Note 4 — Chapter XLVII

Then Súryaprabha, grieved at the slaughter of his kinsmen and friends, spent that night apart from his wives. And eager for the fight, he passed that night in various military discussions with his ministers, without going to sleep. And his wives, grieved on account of the slaughter of their relations, met together in one place that night, having come for the sake of mutual condolence. But even on that melancholy occasion they indulged in miscellaneous conversation; there is no occasion on which women are not irrelevant in their talk. In the course of this conversation, one princess said—“It is wonderful! How comes it that to-night our husband has gone to sleep without any of his wives?” Hearing that, another said—“Our husband is to-day grieved on account of the slaughter of his followers in battle, so how can he take any pleasure in the society of women?” Then another said, “If he were to obtain a new beauty, he would that instant forget his grief.” Then another said—“Do not say so; although he is devoted to the fair sex, he would not behave in this way on such a sad occasion.” While they were thus speaking, one said with wonder; “Tell me why our husband is so devoted to women, that, though he has carried off many wives, he is perpetually marrying new princesses and is never satisfied.” One of the wives, a clever woman of the name of Manovatí, said when she heard this,—“Hear why kings have many loves. The good qualities of lovely women are different, varying with their native land, their beauty, their age, their gestures, and their accomplishments, no one woman possesses all good qualities. The women of Karṇáṭa, of Láṭa, of Sauráshṭra and Madhyadeśa, please by the peculiar behaviour of their various countries. Some fair ones captivate by their faces like an autumn moon, others by their breasts full and firm like golden ewers, and others by their limbs, charming from their beauty. One has limbs yellow as gold, another is dark like a priyangu, another, being red and white, captivates the eyes as soon as seen. One is of budding beauty, another of full-developed youth, another is agreeable on account of her maturity, and distinguished by increasing coquetry. One looks lovely when smiling, another is charming even in anger, another charms with gait resembling that of an elephant, another with swan-like motion. One, when she prattles, irrigates the ears with nectar; another is naturally beautiful, when she looks at one with graceful contraction of the eyebrows. One charms by dancing, another pleases by singing, and another fair one attracts by being able to play on the lyre and other instruments. One is distinguished for good temper, another is remarkable for artfulness; another enjoys good fortune from being able to understand her husband’s mind. But, to sum up, others possess other particular merits; so every lovely woman has some peculiar good point, but of all the women in the three worlds none possesses all possible virtues. So kings, having made up their minds to experience all kinds of fascinations, though they have captured many wives for themselves, are for ever seizing new ones.4 But the truly noble never, under any circumstances, desire the wives of others. So this is not our husband’s fault, and we cannot be jealous.” When the head-wives of Súryaprabha, beginning with Madanasená, had been addressed in this style by Manovatí, they made one after another remarks to the same effect. Then, in their merriment, they laid aside all the ties of reserve, and began to tell one another all kinds of secrets. For unfortunately there is nothing which women will not let out, when they are met together in social intercourse, and their minds are interested in the course of the conversation. At last that long conversation of theirs was somehow or other brought to an end, and in course of time the night passed away, during which Súryaprabha was longing to conquer the host of his enemies, for he was alone, intently waiting for the time when the darkness should depart.5