Note 17 — Chapter CIII

Then the king and Mṛigánkadatta feasted with the kings and Śaśánkavatí and Susheṇa, and spent the rest of the day in a wine-party. Then, after the inhabitants of the palace had eaten and drunk well, and enjoyed music and dancing, the sun, having accomplished his journey, and having drunk up the moisture of the earth, entered the cavern of the western mountain. And the glory of the day, seeing that he had departed somewhere or other with the evening that was all ablaze with a warm glow, ran after him in a fit of jealous anger, and the birds flying to and fro seemed like her agitated zone.17 And then in due course appeared advancing the wanton nymph Night, beautiful with her waving black robe of darkness, and showing a face in which stars rolled for eyeballs, and the god of Love waxed mighty. And the moon, own brother to the curved corner of an angry long-eyed beauty’s eye, arose, and glowing with fresh rosy colour, made itself the driving-hook of the elephant of the eastern mountain. And the eastern quarter, that was clear and bright with the departure of the darkness, bore a laughing face, to which the moon, like a new shoot of the twining plant of Love, formed an extemporized ear-ornament. And at night Mṛigánkadatta, after performing his evening devotions, retired to his luxuriously appointed bed-chamber with his bride Śaśánkavatí. And during it, that fair one’s moonlike countenance, dispelling the darkness, and lighting up the pictured panels of the room, seemed to render unnecessary the lamps hanging there, that were made of precious stones.18 And the next morning Mṛigánkadatta was aroused by the soft sweet strains of the following song, “The night has past; leave your bed, prince, for the breezes of morning are blowing, fanning the perfumed locks of the gazelle-eyed fair ones. And the dewdrops collected on the points of the blades of dúrva-grass sparkle brilliantly, looking like pearls fallen from the necklace of the night quickly following the moon. And observe, prince, the bees that long sported in the cups of the white water-lilies opening when touched by the beams of the moon, and drank the honey, and were joyous at having obtained an entrance, now that the water-lilies are closed and their glory is departing, are seeking some other retreat; for to whom are black souls faithful in calamity? And the god of Love, seeing that the lip of night has been adorned by the finger of the sun, has stripped it of the moon which served it for a beauty-patch, and has gradually dissipated the darkness which was a black powder to set it off.” Aroused by these strains at the hour of dawn, Mṛigánkadatta cast off sleep, and leaving Śaśánkavatí, at once started up from his couch. And he rose and performed the ceremonies of the day, his father having made all the arrangements that devolved on him; and accompanied by his beloved he passed many more days in similar rejoicing. Then his father, Amaradatta, first inaugurated the prince’s brother-in-law Susheṇa with the holy waters, and placed a turban of honour on his head; and bestowed on him as a mark of respect a suitable territory and elephants, horses, quantities of gold, and garments, and a hundred beautiful women. And then the king complimented the king of the Śavaras and the king of the Kirátas, Máyávaṭu and Śaktirakshita, with their relations and wives, and that king Durgapiśácha the leader of the host of the Mátangas, and the ministers of Mṛigánkadatta with Śrutadhi, by giving them territories, cows, horses, gold and garments. Then king Amaradatta dismissed the king of the Kirátas and the other monarchs, with Susheṇa, to their own dominions: and ruled his realm in happiness, at ease because his valour was so well known. Mṛigánkadatta, for his part, having conquered his enemies, and attained his ends, remained in happiness with his wife Śaśánkavatí, whom he had gained after a long struggle, and with Bhímaparákrama and his other ministers.