Note 6 — PART II.

(589) ‘After many days, Queen Vilāsavatī, in her deep longing for news of her son, went to the temple of the Divine Mothers of Avantī,6 the guardian goddesses of Ujjayinī, 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 Çukanāsa, 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 Mahākāla. (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 Vaiçampāyana, and his grief was followed by wonder; while Çukanāsa, 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 Purāṇas, the Rāmāyaṇa, the Mahābhārata, and the rest. For it was owing to a curse that Nahusha7 became a serpent, Saudāsa8 a cannibal, Yayāti decrepit, Triçaṃku9 a Caṇḍāla, the heaven-dwelling Mahābhisha was born as Çāntanu, while Gangā became his wife, and the Vasus,10 his sons. Nay, even the Supreme God, Vishṇu, was born as Yamadagni’s son, and, dividing himself into four, he was born to Daçaratha, and also to Vasudeva at Mathurā. 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 Kādambarī, 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 Çukanāsa and his wife, went to the lake. (605) Comforted by the assurance of Meghanāda, 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, Mahāçvetā fled in shame within the cave, and Kādambarī swooned. And as he looked on his son, who seemed but to sleep, the queen rushed forward, and with fond reproaches entreated Candrāpīḍa to speak to them. (608) But the king reminded her that it was her part to comfort Çukanāsa 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 Kādambarī, saying “Be comforted, my mother,11 for without thee, who could have preserved the body of my son Candrāpīḍa? Surely thou must be wholly made of amṛita, that we are again able to behold his face.” (609) At the name of Candrāpīḍa and the touch of the queen, so like his own, Kādambarī recovered her senses, and was helped by Madalekhā 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 Vilāsavatī. 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.”