Chapter X: Part 10

'All but Patralekha were astounded at this saying, and fixed their gaze on the sky; but she, recovering, at the cool touch of that light, from the swoon brought on by seeing the death of Candrapida, rose, hastily seizing Indrayudha from his groom, saying: "However it may be for us, thou must not for a moment leave thy master to go alone without a steed on his long journey;" and plunged, together with Indrayudha, into the Acchoda Lake. (571) Straightway there rose from the lake a young ascetic, and approaching Mahaçveta, said mournfully: "Princess of the Gandharvas, knowest thou me, now that I have passed through another birth?" Divided between joy and grief, she paid homage to his feet, and replied: "Blessed Kapiñjala, am I so devoid of virtue that I could forget thee? And yet this thought of me is natural, since I am so strangely ignorant of myself and deluded by madness that when my lord Pundarika is gone to heaven I yet live. (572) Tell me of Pundarika." He then recalled how he had flown into the sky in pursuit of the being who carried off Pundarika, and passing by the wondering gods in their heavenly cars, he had reached the world of the moon. "Then that being," he continued, "placed Pundarika's body on a couch in the hall called Mahodaya, and said: 'Know me to be the moon! (573) When I was rising to help the world I was cursed by thy friend, because my beams were slaying him before he could meet his beloved; and he prayed that I, too, might die in the land of Bharata, the home of all sacred rites, knowing myself the pains of love. But I, wrathful at being cursed for what was his own fault, uttered the curse that he should endure the same lot of joy or sorrow as myself. When, however, my anger passed away, I understood what had happened about Mahaçveta. Now, she is sprung from the race that had its origin in my beams, and she chose him for her lord. Yet he and I must both be born twice in the world of mortals, else the due order of births will not be fulfilled. I have therefore carried the body hither, and I nourish it with my light lest it should perish before the curse is ended, and I have comforted Mahaçveta. (574) Tell the whole matter to Pundarika's father. His spiritual power is great, and he may find a remedy.' And I, rushing away in grief, leapt off another rider in a heavenly chariot, and in wrath he said to me: 'Since in the wide path of heaven thou hast leapt over me like a horse in its wild course, do thou become a horse, and descend into the world of mortals.' To my tearful assurance that I had leapt over him in the blindness of grief, and not from contempt, he replied: 'The curse, once uttered, cannot be recalled. But when thy rider shall die, thou shalt bathe and be freed from the curse.' Then I implored him that as my friend was about to be born with the moon-god, in the world of mortals, I might, as a horse, constantly dwell with him. (575) Softened by my affection, he told me that the moon would be born as a son to King Tarapida at Ujjayini, Pundarika would be the son of his minister, Çukanasa, and that I should be the prince's steed. Straightway I plunged into the ocean, and rose as a horse, but yet lost not consciousness of the past. I it was who purposely brought Candrapida hither in pursuit of the kinnaras. And he who sought thee by reason of the love implanted in a former birth, and was consumed by a curse in thine ignorance, was my friend Pundarika come down to earth."

'Then Mahaçveta beat her breast with a bitter cry, saying: "Thou didst keep thy love for me through another birth, Pundarika; I was all the world to thee; and yet, like a demon, born for thy destruction even in a fresh life, I have received length of years but to slay thee again and again. (576) Even in thee, methinks, coldness must now have sprung up towards one so ill-fated, in that thou answerest not my laments;" and she flung herself on the ground. But Kapiñjala pityingly replied: "Thou art blameless, princess, and joy is at hand. Grieve not, therefore, but pursue the penance undertaken by thee; for to perfect penance naught is impossible, and by the power of thine austerities thou shalt soon be in the arms of my friend."

'(577) Then Kadambari asked Kapiñjala what had become of Patralekha when she plunged with him into the tank. But he knew naught of what had happened since then, either to her, or his friend, or Candrapida, and rose to the sky to ask the sage Çvetaketu, Pundarika's father, to whom everything in the three worlds was visible.

'(577-578) Then Mahaçveta counselled Kadambari, whose love to her was drawn the closer from the likeness of her sorrow, that she should spend her life in ministering to the body of Candrapida, nothing doubting that while others, to gain good, worshipped shapes of wood and stone that were but images of invisible gods, she ought to worship the present deity, veiled under the name of Candrapida. Laying his body tenderly on a rock, Kadambari put off the adornments with which she had come to meet her lover, keeping but one bracelet as a happy omen. She bathed, put on two white robes, rubbed off the deep stain of betel from her lips, (579) and the very flowers, incense, and unguents she had brought to grace a happy love she now offered to Candrapida in the worship due to a god. That day and night she spent motionless, holding the feet of the prince, and on the morrow she joyfully saw that his brightness was unchanged, (581) and gladdened her friends and the prince's followers by the tidings. (582) The next day she sent Madalekha to console her parents, and they sent back an assurance that they had never thought to see her wed, and that now they rejoiced that she had chosen for her husband the incarnation of the moon-god himself. They hoped, when the curse was over, to behold again her lotus-face in the company of their son-in-law. (583) So comforted, Kadambari remained to tend and worship the prince's body. Now, when the rainy season was over, Meghanada came to Kadambari, and told her that messengers had been sent by Tarapida to ask the cause of the prince's delay, (584) and that he, to spare her grief, had told them the whole story, and bade them hasten to tell all to the king. They, however, had replied that this might doubtless be so; yet, to say nothing of their hereditary love for the prince, the desire to see so great a marvel urged them to ask to be allowed to behold him; their long service deserved the favour; and what would the king say if they failed to see Candrapida's body? (585) Sorrowfully picturing to herself what the grief of Tarapida would be, Kadambari admitted the messengers, (586) and as they tearfully prostrated themselves, she consoled them, saying that this was a cause for joy rather than sorrow. "Ye have seen the prince's face, and his body free from change; therefore hasten to the king's feet. Yet do not spread abroad this story, but say that ye have seen the prince, and that he tarries by the Acchoda Lake. For death must come to all, and is easily believed; but this event, even when seen, can scarce win faith. It profits not now, therefore, by telling this to his parents, to create in them a suspicion of his death; but when he comes to life again, this wondrous tale will become clear to them." (587) But they replied: "Then we must either not return or keep silence. But neither course is possible; nor could we so greet the sorrowing king." She therefore sent Candrapida's servant Tvaritaka with them, to give credit to the story, for the prince's royal retinue had all taken a vow to live there, eating only roots and fruits, and not to return till the prince himself should do so.

(589) 'After many days, Queen Vilasavati, in her deep longing for news of her son, went to the temple of the Divine Mothers of Avanti, [345] the guardian goddesses of Ujjayini, to pray for his return; and on a sudden a cry arose from the retinue: "Thou art happy, O Queen! The Mothers have shown favour to thee! Messengers from the prince are at hand." Then she saw the messengers, with the city-folk crowding round them, asking news of the prince, or of sons, brothers, and other kinsfolk among his followers, (591) but receiving no answers. She sent for them to the temple court, and cried: "Tell me quickly of my son. (592) Have ye seen him?" And they, striving to hide their grief, replied: "O Queen, he has been seen by us on the shore of the Acchoda Lake, and Tvaritaka will tell thee the rest." "What more," said she, "can this unhappy man tell me? For your own sorrowful bearing has told the tale. Alas, my child! Wherefore hast thou not returned? When thou didst bid me farewell, I knew by my forebodings that I should not behold thy face again. (593) This all comes from the evil deeds of my former birth. Yet think not, my son, that I will live without thee, for how could I thus even face thy father? And yet, whether it be from love, or from the thought that one so fair must needs live, or from the native simplicity of a woman's mind, my heart cannot believe that ill has befallen thee." (594) Meanwhile, the news was told to the king, and he hastened to the temple with Çukanasa, and tried to rouse the queen from the stupor of grief, saying: (595) "My queen, we dishonour ourselves by this show of grief. Our good deeds in a former life have carried us thus far. We are not the vessel of further joys. That which we have not earned is not won at will by beating the breast. The Creator does what He wills, and depends on none. We have had the joy of our son's babyhood and boyhood and youth. We have crowned him, and greeted his return from his world conquest. (596) All that is lacking to our wishes is that we have not seen him wed, so that we might leave him in our place, and retire to a hermitage. But to gain every desire is the fruit of very rare merit. We must, however, question Tvaritaka, for we know not all yet." (597) But when he heard from Tvaritaka how the prince's heart had broken, he interrupted him, and cried that a funeral pyre should be prepared for himself near the shrine of Mahakala. (598) All his treasure was to be given to Brahmans, and the kings who followed him were to return to their own lands. Then Tvaritaka implored him to hear the rest of the story of Vaiçampayana, and his grief was followed by wonder; while Çukanasa, showing the desire of a true friend to forget his own grief and offer consolation, said: (599) "Sire, in this wondrous transitory existence, wherein wander gods, demons, animals and men, filled with joy and grief, there is no event which is not possible. Why then doubt concerning this? If from a search for reason, how many things rest only on tradition, and are yet seen to be true? As the use of meditation or certain postures to cure a poisoned man, the attraction of the loadstone, the efficacy of mantras, Vedic or otherwise, in actions of all kinds, wherein sacred tradition is our authority. (600) Now there are many stories of curses in the Puranas, the Ramayana, the Mahabharata, and the rest. For it was owing to a curse that Nahusha [346] became a serpent, Saudasa [347] a cannibal, Yayati decrepit, Triçamku [348] a Candala, the heaven-dwelling Mahabhisha was born as Çantanu, while Ganga became his wife, and the Vasus, [349] his sons. Nay, even the Supreme God, Vishnu, was born as Yamadagni's son, and, dividing himself into four, he was born to Daçaratha, and also to Vasudeva at Mathura. Therefore the birth of gods among mortals is not hard of belief. And thou, sire, art not behind the men of old in virtue, nor is the moon greater than the god from whom the lotus springs. Our dreams at our sons' birth confirm the tale; the nectar that dwells in the moon preserves the prince's body, (601) and his beauty that gladdens the world must be destined to dwell in the world. We shall therefore soon see his marriage with Kadambari, and therein find all the past troubles of life more than repaid. Do then thine utmost by worshipping gods, giving gifts to Brahmans, and practising austerities, to secure this blessing." (602-604) The king assented, but expressed his resolve to go himself to behold the prince, and he and the queen, together with Çukanasa and his wife, went to the lake. (605) Comforted by the assurance of Meghanada, who came to meet him, that the prince's body daily grew in brightness, he entered the hermitage; (606) while, at the news of his coming, Mahaçveta fled in shame within the cave, and Kadambari swooned. And as he looked on his son, who seemed but to sleep, the queen rushed forward, and with fond reproaches entreated Candrapida to speak to them. (608) But the king reminded her that it was her part to comfort Çukanasa and his wife. "She also, to whom we shall owe the joy of again beholding our son alive, even the Gandharva princess, is yet in a swoon; do thou take her in thine arms, and bring her back to consciousness." Then she tenderly touched Kadambari, saying "Be comforted, my mother, [350] for without thee, who could have preserved the body of my son Candrapida? Surely thou must be wholly made of amrita, that we are again able to behold his face." (609) At the name of Candrapida and the touch of the queen, so like his own, Kadambari recovered her senses, and was helped by Madalekha to pay due honour, though with face bent in shame, to his parents. She received their blessing--"Mayest thou live long, and long enjoy an unwidowed life"--and was set close behind Vilasavati. The king then bade her resume her care of the prince, and took up his abode in a leafy bower near the hermitage, provided with a cool stone slab, and meet for a hermit, (610) and told his royal retinue that he would now carry out his long-cherished desire of an ascetic life, and that they must protect his subjects. "It is surely a gain if I hand over my place to one worthy of it, and by this enfeebled and useless body of mine win the joys of another world."

'So saying, he gave up all his wonted joys, and betook himself to the unwonted life in the woods; he found a palace beneath the trees; the delights of the zenana, in the creepers; the affection of friends, in the fawns; the pleasure of attire, in rags and bark garments. (611) His weapons were rosaries; his ambition was for another world; his desire for wealth was in penance. He refused all the delicacies that Kadambari and Mahaçveta offered him, and so dwelt with his queen and Çukanasa, counting all pains light, so that every morning and evening he might have the joy of seeing Candrapida.'

Having told this tale, [351] the sage Jabali said with a scornful smile to his son Harita and the other ascetics: 'Ye have seen how this story has had power to hold us long, and to charm our hearts. And this is the love-stricken being who by his own fault fell from heaven, and became on earth Vaiçampayana, son of Çukanasa. He it is who, by the curse of his own wrathful father, and by Mahaçveta's appeal to the truth of her heart, has been born as a parrot.' (612) As he thus spoke, I awoke, as it were, out of sleep, and, young as I was, I had on the tip of my tongue all the knowledge gained in a former birth; I became skilled in all arts; I had a clear human voice, memory, and all but the shape of a man. My affection for the prince, my uncontrolled passion, my devotion to Mahaçveta, all returned. A yearning arose in me to know about them and my other friends, and though in deepest shame, I faintly asked Jabali: 'Now, blessed saint, that thou hast brought back my knowledge, my heart breaks for the prince who died in grief for my death. (613) Vouchsafe to tell me of him, so that I may be near him; even my birth as an animal will not grieve me.' With mingled scorn and pity he replied: 'Wilt thou not even now restrain thine old impatience? Ask, when thy wings are grown.' Then to his son's inquiry how one of saintly race should be so enslaved by love, he replied that this weak and unrestrained nature belonged to those born, like me, from a mother only. For the Veda says, 'As a man's parents are, so is he,' (614) and medical science, too, declares their weakness. And he said my life now would be but short, but that when the curse was over, I should win length of years. I humbly asked by what sacrifices I should gain a longer life, but he bade me wait, and as the whole night had passed unobserved in his story, (615) he sent the ascetics to offer the morning oblation, while Harita took me, and placed me in his own hut near his couch, and went to his morning duties. (616) During his absence, I sorrowfully thought how hard it would be to rise from being a bird to being a Brahman, not to say a saint, who has the bliss of heaven. Yet if I could not be united to those I loved in past lives why should I yet live? But Harita then returned, and told me that Kapiñjala was there. (617-618) When I saw him weary, yet loving as ever, I strove to fly to him, and he, lifting me up, placed me in his bosom, and then on his head. (619) Then he told me, 'Thy father Çvetaketu knew by divine insight of thy plight, and has begun a rite to help thee. As he began it I was set free from my horse's shape; (620) but he kept me till Jabali had recalled the past to thee, and now sends me to give thee his blessing, and say that thy mother Lakshmi is also helping in the rite.' (621) Then, bidding me stay in the hermitage, he rose to the sky, to take part in the rite. (622) After some days, however, my wings were grown, and I resolved to fly to Mahaçveta, so I set off towards the north; (623) but weariness soon overtook me, and I went to sleep in a tree, only to wake in the snare of a terrible Candala. (624) I besought him to free me, for I was on the way to my beloved, but he said he had captured me for the young Candala princess, who had heard of my gifts. With horror I heard that I, the son of Lakshmi and of a great saint, must dwell with a tribe shunned even by barbarians; (625) but when I urged that he could set me free without danger, for none would see him, he laughed, and replied: 'He, for whom there exist not the five guardians of the world, [352] witnesses of right and wrong, dwelling within his own body to behold his actions, will not do his duty for fear of any other being.' (626) So he carried me off, and as I looked out in hope of getting free from him, I beheld the barbarian settlement, a very market-place of evil deeds. It was surrounded on all sides by boys engaged in the chase, unleashing their hounds, teaching their falcons, mending snares, carrying weapons, and fishing, horrible in their attire, like demoniacs. Here and there the entrance to their dwellings, hidden by thick bamboo forests, was to be inferred, from the rising of smoke of orpiment. On all sides the enclosures were made with skulls; (627) the dustheaps in the roads were filled with bones; the yards of the huts were miry with blood, fat, and meat chopped up. The life there consisted of hunting; the food, of flesh; the ointment, of fat; the garments, of coarse silk; the couches, of dried skins; the household attendants, of dogs; the animals for riding, of cows; the men's employment, of wine and women; the oblation to the gods, of blood; the sacrifice, of cattle. The place was the image of all hells. (628) Then the man brought me to the Candala maiden, who received me gladly, and placed me in a cage, saying: 'I will take from thee all thy wilfulness.' What was I to do? Were I to pray her to release me, it was my power of speech that had made her desire me; were I silent, anger might make her cruel; (629) still, it was my want of self-restraint that had caused all my misery, and so I resolved to restrain all my senses, and I therefore kept entire silence and refused all food.

Next day, however, the maiden brought fruits and water, and when I did not touch them she said tenderly: 'It is unnatural for birds and beasts to refuse food when hungry. If thou, mindful of a former birth, makest distinction of what may or may not be eaten, yet thou art now born as an animal, and canst keep no such distinction. (630) There is no sin in acting in accordance with the state to which thy past deeds have brought thee. Nay, even for those who have a law concerning food, it is lawful, in a time of distress, to eat food not meet for them, in order to preserve life. Much more, then, for thee. Nor needst thou fear this food as coming from our caste; for fruit may be accepted even from us; and water, even from our vessels, is pure, so men say, when it falls on the ground.' I, wondering at her wisdom, partook of food, but still kept silence.

'After some time, when I had grown up, I woke one day to find myself in this golden cage, and beheld the Candala maiden as thou, O king, hast seen her. (631) The whole barbarian settlement shewed like a city of the gods, and before I could ask what it all meant, the maiden brought me to thy feet. But who she is and why she has become a Candala, and why I am bound or brought hither, I am as eager as thou, O king, to learn.'

Thereupon the king, in great amazement, sent for the maiden, and she, entering, overawed the king with her majesty, and said with dignity: 'Thou gem of earth, lord of Rohini, joy of Kadambari's eyes--thou, O moon, hast heard the story of thy past birth, and that of this foolish being. Thou knowest from him how even in this birth he disregarded his father's command, and set off to seek his bride. Now I am Lakshmi, his mother, and his father, seeing by divine insight that he had started, bade me keep him in safety till the religious rite for him was completed, and lead him to repentance. (632) The rite is now over. The end of the curse is at hand. I brought him to thee that thou mightest rejoice with him thereat. I became a Candala to avoid contact with mankind. Do ye both therefore, straightway leave bodies beset with the ills of birth, old age, pain, and death, and win the joy of union with your beloved.' So saying, she suddenly rose to the sky, followed by the gaze of all the people, while the firmament rang with her tinkling anklets. The king, at her words, remembered his former birth and said: 'Dear Pundarika, now called Vaiçampayana, happy is it that the curse comes to an end at the same moment for us both'; but while he spoke, Love drew his bow, taking Kadambari as his best weapon, and entered into the king's heart to destroy his life. (635) The flame of love wholly consumed him, and from longing for Mahaçveta, Vaiçampayana, who was in truth Pundarika, endured the same sufferings as the king.

Now at this time there set in the fragrant season of spring, as if to burn him utterly, (636) and while it intoxicated all living beings, it was used by Love as his strongest shaft to bewilder the heart of Kadambari. On Kama's festival she passed the day with great difficulty, and at twilight, when the quarters were growing dark, she bathed, worshipped Kama, and placed before him the body of Candrapida, washed, anointed with musk-scented sandal, and decked with flowers. (637) Filled with a deep longing, she drew nigh, as if unconsciously and suddenly, bereft by love of a woman's native timidity, she could no longer restrain herself, and clasped Candrapida's neck as though he were yet alive. At her ambrosial embrace the prince's life came back to him, and, clasping her closely, like one awakened from sleep (638), he gladdened her by saying: 'Timid one, away with fear! Thine embrace hath brought me to life; for thou art born of the Apsaras race sprung from nectar, and it was but the curse that prevented thy touch from reviving me before. I have now left the mortal shape of Çudraka, that caused the pain of separation from thee; but this body I kept, because it won thy love. Now both this world and the moon are bound to thy feet. Vaiçampayana, too, the beloved of thy friend Mahaçveta, has been freed from the curse with me.' While the moon, hidden in the shape of Candrapida, thus spoke, Pundarika descended from the sky, pale, wearing still the row of pearls given by Mahaçveta, and holding the hand of Kapiñjala. (639) Gladly Kadambari hastened to tell Mahaçveta of her lover's return, while Candrapida said: 'Dear Pundarika, though in an earlier birth thou wast my son-in-law, [353] thou must now be my friend, as in our last birth.' Meanwhile, Keyuraka set off to Hemakuta to tell Hamsa and Citraratha, and Madalekha fell at the feet of Tarapida, who was absorbed in prayer to Çiva, Vanquisher of Death, and Vilasavati, and told them the glad tidings. (640) Then the aged king came, leaning on Çukanasa, with the queen and Manorama, and great was the joy of all. Kapiñjala too brought a message to Çukanasa from Çvetakatu, saying: 'Pundarika was but brought up by me; but he is thy son, and loves thee; do thou therefore keep him from ill, and care for him as thine own. (641) I have placed in him my own life, and he will live as long as the moon; so that my desires are fulfilled. The divine spirit of life in me now yearns to reach a region surpassing the world of gods.' That night passed in talk of their former birth; and next day the two Gandharva kings came with their queens, and the festivities were increased a thousandfold. Citraratha, however, said: 'Why, when we have palaces of our own, do we feast in the forest? Moreover, though marriage resting only on mutual love is lawful among us, [354] yet let us follow the custom of the world.' 'Nay,' replied Tarapida. 'Where a man hath known his greatest happiness, there is his home, even if it be the forest.1 (642) And where else have I known such joy as here? [355] All my palaces, too, have been given over to thy son-in-law; take my son, therefore, with his bride, and taste the joys of home.' Then Citraratha went with Candrapida to Hemakuta, and offered him his whole kingdom with the hand of Kadambari. Hamsa did the same to Pundarika; but both refused to accept anything, for their longings were satisfied with winning the brides dear to their hearts.

Now, one day Kadambari, though her joy was complete, asked her husband with tears: 'How is it that when we all have died and come to life, and have been united with each other, Patralekha alone is not here, nor do we know what has become of her?' 'How could she be here, my beloved?' replied the prince tenderly. 'For she is my wife Rohini, and, when she heard I was cursed, grieving for my grief, she refused to leave me alone in the world of mortals, and though I sought to dissuade her, she accepted birth in that world even before me, that she might wait upon me. (643) When I entered on another birth, she again wished to descend to earth; but I sent her back to the world of the moon. There thou wilt again behold her.' But Kadambari, in wonder at Rohini's nobility, tenderness, loftiness of soul, devotion, and charm, was abashed, and could not utter a word.

The ten nights that Candrapida spent at Hemakuta passed as swiftly as one day; and then, dismissed by Citraratha and Madira, who were wholly content with him, he approached the feet of his father. There he bestowed on the chieftains who had shared his sufferings a condition like his own, and laying on Pundarika the burden of government, followed the steps of his parents, who had given up all earthly duties. Sometimes from love of his native land, he would dwell in Ujjayini, where the citizens gazed at him with wide, wondering eyes; sometimes, from respect to the Gandharva king, at Hemakuta, beautiful beyond compare; sometimes, from reverence to Rohini, in the world of the moon, where every place was charming from the coolness and fragrance of nectar; sometimes, from love to Pundarika, by the lake where Lakshmi dwelt, on which the lotuses ever blossomed night and day, and often, to please Kadambari, in many another fair spot.

With Kadambari he enjoyed many a pleasure, to which the yearning of two births gave an ever fresh [356] and inexhaustible delight. Nor did the Moon rejoice alone with Kadambari, nor she with Mahaçveta, but Mahaçveta with Pundarika, and Pundarika with the Moon, all spent an eternity of joy in each other's company, and reached the very pinnacle of happiness.

APPENDIX.

DESCRIPTION OF UJJAYINI.

(102) There is a town by name Ujjayini, the proudest gem of the three worlds, the very birthplace of the golden age, created by the blessed Mahakala, [357] Lord of Pramathas, [358] Creator, Preserver and Destroyer of the Universe, as a habitation meet for himself, like a second earth. It is encompassed by a moat deep as hell--as by the ocean, mistaking it for another earth--and surrounded by fenced walls, white with plaster, like Kailasa, with its many points showing clear against the sky, through joy at being the dwelling of Çiva.

It is adorned with large bazaars, like the oceans when their waters were drunk by Agastya, stretching far, with gold-dust for sand, with conch and oyster pearls, coral and emeralds laid bare. The painted halls that deck it are filled with gods, demons, Siddhas, [359] Gandharvas, genii, and snakes, (103) and show like a row of heavenly chariots come down from the sky to behold fair women at ceaseless festivals. Its crossways shine with temples like Mandara whitened by the milk raised up by the churning stick, with spotless golden vases for peaks, and white banners stirred by the breeze like the peaks of Himalaya with the heavenly Ganges falling on them. Commons gray with ketaki pollen, dark with green gardens, watered by buckets constantly at work, and having wells adorned with brick seats, lend their charm. Its groves are darkened by bees vocal with honey draughts, its breeze laden with the sweetness of creeper flowers, all trembling. It pays open honour to Kama, with banners marked with the fish on the house-poles, with bells ringing merrily, with crimson pennons of silk, and red cowries steady, made of coral, standing upright in every house. Its sin is washed away by the perpetual recitation of sacred books. (104) It resounds with the cry of the peacocks, intent on a wild dance with their tails outspread from excitement in the bathing-houses, wherein is the steady, deep sound of the drums, and a storm caused by the heavy showers of spray, and beautiful rainbows made by the sunbeams cast upon it. It glitters with lakes, fair with open blue water-lilies, with their centre white as unclosed moon-lotuses, beautiful in their unwavering gaze, [360] like the thousand eyes of Indra. It is whitened with ivory turrets on all sides, endowed with plantain groves, white as flecks of ambrosial foam. It is girt with the river Sipra, which seems to purify the sky, with its waves forming a ceaseless frown, as though jealously beholding the river of heaven on the head of Çiva, while its waters sway over the rounded forms of the Malavis, wild with the sweetness of youth.

The light-hearted race that dwell there, like the moon on the locks of Çiva, spread their glory [361] through all the earth, and have their horn filled with plenty; [362] like Mainaka, they have known no pakshapata; [363] like the stream of the heavenly Ganges, with its golden lotuses, their heaps of gold and rubies [364] shine forth; like the law-books, they order the making of water-works, bridges, temples, pleasure-grounds, wells, hostels for novices, wayside sheds for watering cattle, and halls of assembly; like Mandara, they have the best treasures of ocean drawn up for them; though they have charms against poison, [365] yet they fear snakes; [366] though they live on the wicked, [367] they give their best to the good; though bold, they are very courteous; though pleasant of speech, they are truthful; though handsome, [368] content with their wives; though they invite the entrance of guests, they know not how to ask a boon; though they seek love and wealth, they are strictly just; though virtuous, they fear another world. [369] They are connoisseurs in all arts, pleasant [370] and intelligent. They talk merrily, are charming in their humour, spotless in their attire, (106) skilled in foreign languages, clever at subtleties of speech, [371] versed in stories of all kinds, [372] accomplished in letters, having a keen delight in the Mahabharata, Puranas, and Ramayana, familiar with the Brihatkatha, masters of the whole circle of arts, especially gambling, lovers of the çastras, devoted to light literature, calm as a fragrant spring breeze, constantly going to the south; [373] upright, [374] like the wood of Himalaya; skilled in the worship of Rama, [375] like Lakshmana; open lovers of Bharata, like Çatrughna; [376] like the day, following the sun; [377] like a Buddhist, bold in saying 'Yes' about all kinds of gifts; [378] like the doctrine of the Samkhya philosophy, possessed of noble men; [379] like Jinadharma, pitiful to life.

The city seems possessed of rocks, with its palaces; it stretches like a suburb with its long houses; it is like the tree that grants desires with its good citizens; it bears in its painted halls the mirror of all forms. Like twilight, it shines with the redness of rubies; [380] (107) like the form of the Lord of Heaven, it is purified with the smoke of a hundred sacrifices; like the wild dance of Çiva, it has the smiles, which are its white markets; [381] like an old woman, it has its beauty worn; [382] like the form of Garuda, it is pleasing in being the resting-place of Vishnu; [383] like the hour of dawn, it has its people all alert; like the home of a mountaineer, it has palaces in which ivory cowries [384] are hanging; like the form of Çesha, [385] it always bears the world; like the hour of churning the ocean, it fills the end of the earth with its hubbub; [386] like the rite of inauguration, it has a thousand gold pitchers [387] at hand; like Gauri, it has a form fit to sit on the lion-throne; like Aditi, honoured in a hundred houses of the gods; like the sports of Mahavaraha, showing the casting down of Hiranyaksha; [388] like Kadru, it is a joy to the race of reptiles; [389] like the Harivamça, it is charming with the games of many children. [390] (108) Though its courts are open to all, its glory is uninjured; [391] though it glows with colour, [392] it is white as nectar; though it is hung with strings of pearls, yet when unadorned [393] it is adorned the most; though composed of many elements, [394] it is yet stable, and it surpasses in splendour the world of the immortals.

There the sun is daily seen paying homage to Mahakala, for his steeds vail their heads at the charm of the sweet chant of the women singing in concert in the lofty white palaces, and his pennon droops before him. There his rays fall on the vermeil floors like the crimson of eve; and on the emerald seats, as though busy in creating lotus beds; on the lapis-lazuli, as though scattered on the sky; on the circling aloe smoke, as though eager to break its dense gloom; on the wreaths of pearl, as though disdaining the clusters of stars; (109) on the women's faces, as though kissing unfolding lotuses; on the splendour of crystal walls, as though falling amid the pale moonlight of morning; on the white silken banners, as though hanging on the waves of the heavenly Ganges; on the sun-gems, as though blossoming from them; on the sapphire lattices, as though entering the jaws of Rahu. There darkness never falls, and the nights bring no separation to the pairs of cakravakas; nor need they any lamps, for they pass golden as with morning sunshine, from the bright jewels of women, as though the world were on fire with the flame of love. There, though Çiva is at hand, the cry of the hamsas in the houses, arising sweet and ceaseless, at the kindling of love, fills the city with music, like the mourning of Rati for the burning of the God of Love. There the palaces stretch forth their flags, whose silken fringes gleam and flutter at night in the wind, like arms to remove the mark of the moon put to shame by the fair lotus-faced Malavis. (110) There the moon, deer-marked, moves, in the guise of his reflection, on the jewel pavement, cool with the sprinkling of much sandal-water, as though he had fallen captive to Love at the sight of the faces of the fair city dames resting on the palace roofs. There the auspicious songs of dawn raised by the company of caged parrots and starlings, though they sing their shrillest, as they wake at night's close, are drowned and rendered vain by the tinkling of women's ornaments, reaching far, and outvying the ambrosial voices of the tame cranes. [395] (111) There dwells Çiva, who has pierced the demon Andhaka with his sharp trident, who has a piece of the moon on his brow polished by the points of Gauri's anklets, whose cosmetic is the dust of Tripura, and whose feet are honoured by many bracelets fallen from Rati's outstretched arms as she pacifies him when bereft of Kama.

DESCRIPTION OF TARAPIDA. [396]

(112) Like hell, he was the refuge of the lords of earth, [397] fearing when their soaring pride was shorn; [398] like the stars, he was followed by the wise men; [399] like Love, he destroyed strife; [400] like Daçaratha, he had good friends; [401] (113) like Çiva, he was followed by a mighty host; [402] like Çesha, he had the weight of the earth upon him; [403] like the stream of Narmada, his descent was from a noble tree. [404] He was the incarnation of Justice, the very representative of Vishnu, the destroyer of all the sorrows of his people. He re-established justice, which had been shaken to its foundations by the Kali Age, set on iniquity, and mantled in gloom by the spread of darkness, just as Çiva re-established Kailasa when carried off by Ravana. He was honoured by the world as a second Kama, created by Çiva when his heart was softened by the lamentations of Rati.

(113-115) Before him bowed conquered kings with eyes whose pupils were tremulous and quivering from fear, with the bands of the wreaths on their crest ornaments caught by the rays of his feet, and with the line of their heads broken by the lotus-buds held up in adoration. They came from the Mount of Sunrise, [405] which has its girdle washed by the ocean waves, where the flowers on the trees of its slopes are doubled by stars wandering among the leaves, where the sandal-wood is wet with the drops of ambrosia that fall from the moon as it rises, where the clove-trees [406] blossom when pierced by the hoofs of the horses of the sun's chariot, where the leaves and shoots of the olibanum-trees are cut by the trunk of the elephant Airavata; (114) from Setubandha, built with a thousand mountains seized by the hand of Nala, [407] where the fruit on the lavali-trees is carried off by monkeys, where the feet of Rama are worshipped by the water-deities coming up from the sea, and where the rock is starred with pieces of shell broken by the fall of the mountain; from Mandara, where the stars are washed by the waters of pure waterfalls, where the stones are polished by the rubbing of the edge of the fish ornament of Krishna rising at the churning of ambrosia, where the slopes are torn by the weight of the feet moving in the effort of drawing hither and thither Vasuki coiled in the struggles of Gods and demons, where the peaks are sprinkled with ambrosial spray; from Gandhamadana, beautiful with the hermitage of Badarika marked with the footprints of Nara and Narayana, where the peaks are resonant with the tinkling of the ornaments of the fair dames of Kuvera's city, where the water of the streams is purified by the evening worship of the Seven Rishis, and where the land around is perfumed by the fragments of lotuses torn up by Bhima.

CANDRAPIDA'S ENTRY INTO THE PALACE.

(188) Preceded by groups of chamberlains, hastening up and bowing, he received the respectful homage of the kings, who had already taken their position there, who came forward on all sides, who had the ground kissed by the rays of the crest-jewels loosened from their crests and thrown afar, and who were introduced one by one by the chamberlains; at every step he had auspicious words for his dismounting uttered by old women of the zenana, who had come out from inside, and were skilled in old customs; having passed through the seven inner courts crowded with thousands of different living beings, as if they were different worlds, he beheld his father. The king was stationed within, surrounded by a body-guard whose hands were stained black by ceaseless grasping of weapons, who had their bodies, with the exception of hands, feet, and eyes, covered with dark iron coats of mail, (189) like elephant-posts covered with swarms of bees ceaselessly attracted by desire of the scent of ichor, hereditary in their office, of noble birth, faithful; whose heroism might be inferred from their character and gestures, and who in their energy and fierceness were like demons. On either side he had white cowries ceaselessly waved by his women; and he sat on a couch white as a wild goose, and bright as a fair island, as if he were the heavenly elephant on the water of Ganges.

VILASAVATI'S ATTENDANTS.

(190) Approaching his mother, he saluted her. She was surrounded by countless zenana attendants in white jackets, like Çri with the waves of milk, and was having her time wiled away by elderly ascetic women, very calm in aspect, wearing tawny robes, like twilight in its clouds, worthy of honour from all the world, with the lobes of their ears long, knowing many stories, relating holy tales of old, reciting legends, holding books, and giving instructions about righteousness. (191) She was attended by eunuchs using the speech and dress of women, and wearing strange decorations; she had a mass of cowries constantly waved around her, and was waited upon by a bevy of women seated around her, bearing clothes, jewels, flowers, perfumes, betel, fans, unguents, and golden jars; she had strings of pearls resting on her bosom, as the earth has the stream of Ganges flowing in the midst of mountains, and the reflection of her face fell on a mirror close by, like the sky when the moon's orb has entered into the sun.

ÇUKANASA'S PALACE.

(192) He reached Çukanasa's gate, which was crowded with a troop of elephants appointed for the watch, obstructed by thousands of horses, (193) confused with the hustling of countless multitudes, visited day and night by Brahmans, Çaivas, and red-robed men skilled in the teaching of Çakyamuni, clothed as it were in the garments of righteousness, sitting on one side by thousands, forming circles, coming for various purposes, eager to see Çukanasa, having their eyes opened by the ointment of their several çastras, and showing their respectful devotion by an appearance of humility. The gateway was filled with a hundred thousand she-elephants of the tributary kings who had entered the palace with double blankets drawn round the mahouts who sat on their shoulders, having their mahouts asleep from weariness of their long waiting, some saddled and some not, nodding their heads from their long standing motionless. The prince dismounted in the outer court, as though he were in a royal palace, though not stopped by the guards standing in the entrance and running up in haste; and having left his horse at the entrance, leaning on Vaiçampayana, and having his way shown by circles of gatekeepers, who hastened up, pushing away the bystanders, he received the salutes of bands of chiefs who arose with waving crests to do him homage, and beheld the inner courts with all the attendants mute in fear of the scolding of cross porters, and having the ground shaken by hundreds of feet of the retinues of neighbouring kings frightened by the moving wands, (194) and finally entered the palace of Çukanasa, bright inside with fresh plaster, as if it were a second royal court.

DESCRIPTION OF NIGHT.

(196) The brightness of day approached the west, following the path of the sun's chariot-wheels, like a stream of water. Day wiped away all the glow of the lotuses with the sun's orb hastening downwards like a hand roseate as fresh shoots. The pairs of cakravakas, whose necks were hidden in swarms of bees approaching from familiarity with the scent of lotuses, were separated as if drawn by the noose of destiny. The sun's orb poured forth, under the guise of a rosy glow, the lotus honey-draught, as it were, drunk in with its rays till the end of day, as if in weariness of its path through the heavens. And when in turn the blessed sun approached another world, and was a very red lotus-earring of the West, when twilight shone forth with its lotus-beds opening into the lake of heaven, (197) when in the quarters of space lines of darkness showed clear like decorations of black aloes; when the glow of eve was driven out by darkness like a band of red lotuses by blue lotuses dark with bees; when bees slowly entered the hearts of red lotuses, as if they were shoots of darkness, to uproot the sunshine drunk in by the lotus-beds; when the evening glow had melted away, like the garland round the face of the Lady of night; when the oblations in honour of the goddess of twilight were cast abroad in all quarters; when the peacock's poles seemed tenanted by peacocks, by reason of the darkness gathered round their summits, though no peacocks were there; when the doves, very ear-lotuses of the Lakshmi of palaces, were roosting in the holes of the lattices; when the swings of the zenana had their bells dumb, and their gold seats motionless and bearing no fair dames; when the bands of parrots and mainas ceased chattering, and had their cages hung up on the branches of the palace mango-trees; when the lutes were banished, and their sound at rest in the ceasing of the concert; when the tame geese were quiet as the sound of the maidens' anklets was stilled; (198) when the wild elephants had the clefts of their cheeks free from bees, and their ornaments of pearls, cowries, and shells taken away; when the lights were kindled in the stables of the king's favourite steeds; when the troops of elephants for the first watch were entering; when the family priests, having given their blessing, were departing; when the jewelled pavements, emptied almost of attendants on the dismissal of the king's suite, spread out wide, kissed by the reflection of a thousand lights shining in the inner apartments, like offerings of golden campak-blossoms; when the palace tanks, with the splendours of the lamps falling on them, seemed as if the fresh sunlight had approached to soothe the lotus-beds grieved by separation from the sun; when the caged lions were heavy with sleep; and when Love had entered the zenana like a watchman, with arrows in hand and bow strung; when the words of Love's messenger were uttered in the ear, bright in tone as the blossoms in a garland; when the hearts of froward dames, widowed by grief, were smouldering in the fire transmitted to them from the sun-crystals; and when evening had closed in, Candrapida ... went to the king's palace....

THE REGION OF KAILASA.

(243) The red arsenic-dust scattered by the elephants' tusks crimsoned the earth. The clefts of the rock were festooned with shoots of creepers, now separating and now uniting, hanging in twists, twining like leafage; the stones were wet with the ceaseless dripping of gum-trees; the boulders were slippery with the bitumen that oozed from the rocks. The slope was dusty with fragments of yellow orpiment broken by the mountain horses' hoofs; powdered with gold scattered from the holes dug out by the claws of rats; lined by the hoofs of musk-deer and yaks sunk in the sand and covered with the hair of rallakas and rankus fallen about; filled with pairs of partridges resting on the broken pieces of rock; with the mouths of its caves inhabited by pairs of orang-outangs; with the sweet scent of sulphur, and with bamboos that had grown to the length of wands of office.

PASSAGES PRINTED IN THE APPENDIX. [408]

102, 1--110, 6
111, 1-4
112, 6--115, 1
188, 4--189, 5
190, 6--191, 5
192, 11--194, 2
196, 4--199, 1
243, 4-10

PASSAGES CONDENSED OR OMITTED. [409]

11, 7--15, 2
*31, 10--34, 2
46, 7--48, 4
81, 3-10
83, 1-8
85, 3--89, 4
119, 3--124, 3
137, 7--138, 3
141, 6--155, 5
162, 8--164, 8
176, 6--188, 4
*199, 5--200, 9
203, 2--204, 2
*227, 4--234, 6
242, 6-10
*245, 4--248, 3
250, 3-8
*252, 7--256, 5
262, 1--266, 3
276, 9--277, 8
285, 2-4
*346, 7--348, 7
353, 6--355, 9
357, 1-10
359, 12--365, 2
369, 2-8
*383, 6--384,9
388, 5--390, 4
403, 6--410, 3
417, 1--426, 3

NOTES

[1] It is needless to give here more than the few facts essential for the understanding of 'Kadambari,' for the life and times of Bana will probably be treated of in the translation of the 'Harsha-Carita' by Professor Cowell and Mr. Thomas in this series; and Professor Peterson's Introduction to his edition of 'Kadambari' (Bombay Sanskrit Series, 1889) deals fully with Bana's place in literature. The facts here given are, for the most part, taken from the latter work.

[2] E.g., the Madhuban grant of Sam 25, E. I. i., 67 ff. For this and other chronological references I am indebted to Miss C. M. Duff, who has let me use the MS. of her 'Chronology of India.'

[3] For Bana's early life, V. 'Harsha-Carita,' chs. i., ii. I have to thank Mr. F. W. Thomas for allowing me to see the proof-sheets of his translation.

[4] Peterson, 'Kadambari,' pp. 96-98; and 'The Subhashitavali,' edited by Peterson (Bombay Sanskrit Series, 1886), pp. 62-66.

[5] Translated by Mr. C. Tawney (Calcutta, 1884), vol. ii., pp. 17-26. Somadeva's date is about A.D. 1063.

[6] V. Peterson, 'Kadambari,' pp. 82-96.

[7] Translated by Ballantyne and Pramada-Dasa-Mitra (Calcutta, 1875), § 567. The italics represent words supplied by the translators.

[8] Kadambari,' p. 69.

[9] Professor Peterson does not, however, make this deduction in favour of Bana's own version.

[10] I.e., rasa, poetic charm.

[11] 'Kadambari,' Nirnaya Sagara Press, Bombay, pp. 205-221. 'Evam samatikramatsu--ajagama.'

[12] Bombay edition, p. 6.

[13] Professor Cowells review of 'A Bengali Historical Novel.' Macmillan, April, 1872.

[14] V. Peterson, 'Kadambari,' p. 42.