Note 7 — Chapter XXV

Then he, concealed by the dense leaves, overheard the conversation of those birds perched on the branches, which was carried on in human language. One described some distant island, another a mountain, another a distant region as the place where he had gone to roam during the day, but an old bird among them said, “I went to-day to the Golden City to disport myself, and to-morrow morning I shall go there again to feed at my ease, for what is the use of my taking a long and fatiguing journey?” Śaktideva’s sorrow was removed by that speech of the bird’s, which resembled a sudden shower of nectar, and he thought to himself, “Bravo! that city does exist, and now I have an instrument for reaching it, this gigantic bird given me as a means of conveyance.” Thinking thus, Śaktideva slowly advanced and hid himself among the back-feathers of that bird while it was asleep, and next morning, when the other birds went off in different directions, that vulture exhibiting a strange partiality to the Bráhman like destiny,7 carrying Śaktideva unseen on his back where he had climbed up, went immediately to the Golden City to feed again.8 Then the bird alighted in a garden, and Śaktideva got down from its back unobserved and left it, but while he was roaming about there, he saw two women engaged in gathering flowers; he approached them slowly, who were astonished at his appearance, and he asked them, “What place is this, good ladies, and who are you?” And they said to him: “Friend, this is a city called the Golden City, a seat of the Vidyádharas, and in it there dwells a Vidyádharí, named Chandraprabhá, and know that we are the gardeners in her garden, and we are gathering these flowers for her.” Then the Bráhman said; “Obtain for me an interview with your mistress here.” When they heard this, they consented, and the two women conducted the young man to the palace in their city. When he reached it, he saw that it was glittering with pillars of precious stones, and had walls of gold,9 as it were the very rendezvous of prosperity. And all the attendants, when they saw him arrived there, went and told Chandraprabhá the marvellous tidings of the arrival of a mortal; then she gave a command to the warder, and immediately had the Bráhman brought into the palace and conducted into her presence; when he entered, he beheld her there giving a feast to his eyes, like the Creator’s ability to create marvels, represented in bodily form. And she rose from her jewelled couch, while he was still far off, and honoured him with a welcome herself, overpowered by beholding him. And when he had taken a seat, she asked him, “Auspicious sir, who are you, that have come here in such guise, and how did you reach this land inaccessible to men?” When Chandraprabhá in her curiosity asked him this question, Śaktideva told her his country and his birth and his name, and he related to her how he had come in order to obtain the princess Kanakarekhá as the reward of beholding the Golden City. When Chandraprabhá heard that, she thought a little and heaved a deep sigh, and said to Śaktideva in private; “Listen, I am now about to tell you something, fortunate sir. There is in this land a king of the Vidyádharas named Śaśikhaṇḍa, and we four daughters were born to him in due course; I am the eldest Chandraprabhá, and the next is Chandrarekhá, and the third is Śaśirekhá and the fourth Śaśiprabhá. We gradually grew up to womanhood in our father’s house, and once upon a time those three sisters of mine went together to the shore of the Ganges to bathe, while I was detained at home by illness; then they began to play in the water, and in the insolence of youth they sprinkled with water a hermit named Agryatapas, while he was in the stream. That hermit in his wrath cursed those girls, who had carried their merriment too far, saying:—“You wicked maidens, be born all of you in the world of mortals.” When our father heard that, he went and pacified the great hermit, and the hermit told how the curse of each of them severally should end, and appointed to each of them in her mortal condition the power of remembering her former existence, supplemented with divine insight. Then, they having left their bodies and gone to the world of men, my father bestowed on me this city, and in his grief went to the forest, but while I was dwelling here, the goddess Durgá informed me in a dream that a mortal should become my husband. For this reason, though my father has recommended to me many Vidyádhara suitors, I have rejected them all and remained unmarried up to this day. But now I am subdued by your wonderful arrival and by your handsome form, and I give myself to you; so I will go on the approaching fourteenth day of the lunar fortnight to the great mountain called Ṛishabha to entreat my father for your sake, for all the most excellent Vidyádharas assemble there from all quarters on that day to worship the god Śiva, and my father comes there too, and after I have obtained his permission, I will return here quickly; then marry me. Now rise up.”