Volume 2 / Book 3 — Chapter XV.
C. H. (Charles Henry) Tawney translation
That five-arrowed god of love conquers the world, at whose command even Śiva trembles, when he is being embraced by his beloved.
Story of the clever physician.
“So, as that physician did his king a good turn by his wisdom, let us also do our king a good turn, let us gain for him the empire of the earth. And in this undertaking our only adversary is Pradyota, the king of Magadha; for he is a foe in the rear that is always attacking us behind. So we must ask for our sovereign that pearl of princesses, his daughter, named Padmávatí. And by our cleverness we will conceal Vásavadattá somewhere, and setting fire to her house, we will give out everywhere that the queen is burnt. For in no other case will the king of Magadha give his daughter to our sovereign, for when I requested him to do so on a former occasion, he answered—‘I will not give my daughter, whom I love more than myself, to the king of Vatsa, for he is passionately attached to his wife Vásavadattá.’ Moreover, as long as the queen is alive, the king of Vatsa will not marry any one else; but if a report is once spread that the queen is burnt, all will succeed. And when Padmávatí is secured, the king of Magadha will be our marriage connection, and will not attack us in the rear, but will become our ally. Then we will march to conquer the eastern quarter, and the others in due succession, so we shall obtain for the king of Vatsa all this earth. And if we only exert ourselves, this king will obtain the dominion of the earth, for long ago a divine voice predicted this.” When Rumaṇvat heard this speech from the great minister Yaugandharáyaṇa, he feared that the plan would cover them with ridicule, and so he said to him—“Deception practised for the sake of Padmávatí might some day be to the ruin of us both;” in proof of this, listen to the following tale:
Story of the hypocritical ascetic.
Once on a time there was a king named Devasena, best of wise men, and the city of Śrávastí was his capital. And in that city there was a wealthy merchant, and to him there was born a daughter of unparalleled beauty. And that daughter became known by the name of Unmádiní, because every one, who beheld her beauty, became mad. Her father the merchant thought, “I must not give this daughter of mine to any one without telling the king, or he may be angry.” So he went and said to the king Devasena, “King, I have a daughter who is a very pearl, take her if she finds favour in your eyes.” When he heard that, the king sent some Bráhmans, his confidential ministers, saying to them, “Go and see if that maiden possesses the auspicious marks or not.” The ministers said, “We will do so,” and went. But when they beheld that merchant’s daughter, Unmádiní, love was suddenly produced in their souls, and they became utterly bewildered. When they recovered their senses, the Bráhmans said to one another: “If the king marries this maiden, he will think only of her, and will neglect the affairs of the State, and everything will go to rack and ruin; so what is the good of her?” Accordingly they went and told the king, what was not true, that the maiden had inauspicious marks. Then the merchant gave that Unmádiní, whom the king had refused, and who in her heart felt a proud resentment at it, to the king’s commander-in-chief. When she was in the house of her husband, she ascended one day to the roof, and exhibited herself to the king, who she knew would pass that way. And the moment the king beheld her, resembling a world-bewildering drug employed by the god of love, distraction seemed to be produced within him. When he returned to his palace, and discovered that it was the same lady he had previously rejected, he was full of regret, and fell violently ill with fever; the commander-in-chief, the husband of the lady, came to him and earnestly entreated him to take her, saying, “She is a slave, she is not the lawful wife of another, or if it seem fit, I will repudiate her in the temple, then my lord can take her for his own.” But the king said to him, “I will not take unto myself another man’s wife, and if you repudiate her, your righteousness will be at end, and you will deserve punishment at my hands.” When they heard that, the other ministers remained silent, and the king was gradually consumed by love’s burning fever, and so died. So that king perished, though of firm soul, being deprived of Unmádiní; but what will become of the lord of Vatsa without Vásavadattá? When Yaugandharáyaṇa heard this from Rumaṇvat, he answered; “Affliction is bravely endured by kings who have their eyes firmly fixed on their duty. Did not Ráma when commissioned by the gods, who were obliged to resort to that contrivance, to kill Rávaṇa, endure the pain of separation from queen Sítá? When he heard this, Rumaṇvat said in answer—“Such as Ráma are gods, their souls can endure all things. But the thing is intolerable to men; in proof whereof listen to the following tale.
Story of the loving couple who died of separation.
Story of Puṇyasena.
There lived long ago in Ujjayiní a king named Puṇyasena, and once on a time a powerful sovereign came and attacked him. Then his resolute ministers, seeing that that king was hard to conquer, spread everywhere a false report that their own sovereign Puṇyasena was dead; and they placed him in concealment, and burnt some other man’s corpse with all the ceremonies appropriate to a king, and they proposed to the hostile king through an ambassador that, as they had now no king, he should come and be their king. The hostile monarch was pleased and consented, and then the ministers assembled accompanied by soldiers, and proceeded to storm his camp. And the enemy’s army being destroyed, Puṇyasena’s ministers brought him out of concealment, and having recovered their power put that hostile king to death.