Volume 2 / Book 9 — Chapter LIV.

Thus Naraváhanadatta dwelt in the house of his father the king of Vatsa, being attended by his affectionate ministers, Gomukha and the others, and amusing himself with his loving queen Alankáravatí, whose jealousy was removed by her great love, that refused to be hampered by female pride. Then, once on a time, he went to a forest of wild beasts, mounted on a chariot, with Gomukha seated behind him. And, with that heroic Bráhman Pralambabáhu going in front of him, he indulged in silvan sports, accompanied by his attendants. And though the horses of his chariot galloped at the utmost of their speed, Pralambabáhu outstripped their swiftness, and still kept in front of them. The prince from his position on the chariot killed lions, and tigers, and other wild beasts with arrows, but Pralambabáhu, going on foot, slew them with his sword. And Naraváhanadatta, as often as he beheld that Bráhman, said in astonishment—“What courage, and what fleetness of foot he possesses!”

And the prince, being wearied at the end of his hunting, and overcome with thirst, went in search of water, mounted on his chariot, with Gomukha and his charioteer, and preceded by that champion Pralambabáhu, and in the course of his search he reached another great forest far distant. There he came to a great and charming lake with full-blown golden lotuses, looking like a second sky on earth, studded with many solar orbs. There he bathed and drank water, and, after he and his companions had performed their ablutions and other duties, he beheld at one end of the lake, at a distance, four men of heavenly appearance, dressed in heavenly garments, adorned with heavenly ornaments, engaged in culling golden lotuses from that lake. And out of curiosity he approached them, and when they asked him who he was, he told them his descent, his name and his history.

When Naraváhanadatta had in these words praised Vishṇu, the god looked upon him with a favourable eye, and said to Nárada: “Go and demand back from Indra in my name those lovely Apsarases of mine, who long ago sprang from the sea of milk, and whom I deposited in his hand, and make them mount the chariot of Indra, and quickly bring them here.” When Nárada received this command from Hari, he said “So be it,” and with Mátali he brought the Apsarases from Indra in his chariot, and then bowing he presented the Apsarases to Vishṇu, and the Holy one spake thus to the son of the king of Vatsa—“Naraváhanadatta, I give these Apsarases to thee, the future emperor of the kings of the Vidyádharas. Thou art a fitting husband for them, and they are fitting wives for thee, for thou hast been created by Śiva as an incarnation of the god of Love.” When Vishṇu said that, the son of the king of Vatsa fell at his feet, delighted at having obtained favour, and Vishṇu thus commanded Mátali,—“Let this Naraváhanadatta, together with the Apsarases, be taken back by thee to his palace, by whatever path he desires.”

When the Holy one gave this command, Naraváhanadatta, with the Apsarases and those sons of gods who invited him, mounted the chariot which was driven by Mátali, and went to the island of Nárikela, being envied even by gods. There the successful hero, honoured by those four sons of gods, Rúpasiddhi and his brethren, and accompanied by Indra’s chariot, sported in succession on those four mountains on which they dwelt, Maináka, Vṛishabha, and the others, that vied with heaven, in the company of those Apsarases. And he roamed, full of joy, in the thickets of their pleasure-grounds, the various splendid trees of which were in blossom on account of the arrival of the month of spring. And those sons of gods said to him: “See! these clusters on the trees seem to be regarding with the expanded eyes of their open flowers their beloved spring that has arrived. See! the full-blown lotuses shield the lake, as if to prevent their place of birth from being afflicted by the warmth of the sun’s rays. See! the bees, after resorting to a Karnikára splendid with blossoms, leave it again, finding it destitute of perfume, as good men leave a rich man of mean character. See! a concert is being held in honour of spring, the king of the seasons, with the songs of the Kinnarís, the notes of the cuckoos, and the humming of bees.” With such words those sons of gods shewed Naraváhanadatta the range of their pleasure-grounds. And the son of the king of Vatsa amused himself also in their cities, beholding the merry-makings of the citizens, who danced without restraint in honour of the spring-festival. And he enjoyed with the Apsarases delights fitted for gods; wherever the virtuous go, their good fortunes precede them.

Story of the merchant Samudraśúra.

In old times there was a splendid city, belonging to the king Harshavarman, called Harshapura, the citizens of which were made happy by good government. In this city there was a great merchant, named Samudraśúra; he was of good family, just, of resolute courage, a lord of much wealth. He was once compelled by his business to go to Suvarṇadvípa, and reaching the shore of the sea, he embarked on a ship. As he was travelling over the sea, when his journey was very nearly at an end, a terrible cloud arose and a wind that agitated the deep. The wind tossed the ship about with the violence of the waves, and it was struck by a sea-monster and split asunder; and then the merchant, girding up his loins, plunged into the sea. And after the brave man had made some way by swimming, he found the corpse of a man long dead, driven hither and thither by the wind. And he climbed up on the corpse, and skilfully paddling himself along with his arms, he was carried to Suvarṇadvípa by a favourable wind. There he got off that corpse on to the sand, and he perceived that it had a cloth tied round its loins, with a knot in it. When he unfastened the cloth from its loins, and examined it, he found inside it a necklace richly studded with jewels. He saw that it was of inestimable value, and he bathed and remained in a state of great felicity, thinking that the wealth he had lost in the sea was but straw in comparison with it. Then he went on to a city called Kalaśapura, and with the bracelet in his hand, entered the enclosure of a great temple. There he sat in the shade, and being exceedingly tired with his exertions in the water, he slowly dropped off to sleep, bewildered by Destiny. And while he was asleep, the policemen came and saw that necklace in his hand exposed to view. They said—“Here is the necklace stolen from the neck of the princess Chakrasená; without doubt this is the thief.” And so they woke the merchant up and took him to the palace. There the king himself questioned him, and he told him what had taken place. The king held out the necklace, and said to the people present in court,—“This man is speaking falsely; he is a thief, look at this necklace.” And at that very moment a kite saw it glittering, and quickly swooping down from heaven, carried off the necklace, and disappeared where he could not be traced. Then the king, in his anger, commanded that the merchant should be put to death, and he, in great grief, invoked the protection of Śiva. Then a voice was heard from heaven—“Do not put this man to death: he is a respectable merchant named Samudraśúra from the city of Harshapura, that has landed on your territory. The thief, who stole the necklace, fled, beside himself with fear of the police, and falling into the sea at night, perished. But this merchant here, when his ship foundered, came upon the body of that thief, and climbing up on it, he crossed the sea and came here. And then he found the necklace in the knot of the cloth fastened round his loins; he did not take it from your house. So let go, king, this virtuous merchant, who is not a thief; dismiss him with honour.” Having said this, the voice ceased. When the king heard this, he was satisfied, and revoking the capital sentence passed on the merchant, he honoured him with wealth, and let him go. And the merchant, having obtained wealth, bought wares, and again crossed the terrible ocean in a ship, in order to return to his own native land.

And after he had crossed the sea, he travelled with a caravan, and one day, at evening time, he reached a wood. The caravan encamped in the wood for the night, and while Samudraśúra was awake, a powerful host of bandits attacked it. While the bandits were massacring the members of the caravan, Samudraśúra left his wares and fled, and climbed up a banyan-tree without being discovered. The host of bandits departed, after they had carried off all the wealth, and the merchant spent that night there, perplexed with fear, and distracted with grief. In the morning he cast his eye towards the top of the tree, and saw, as fate would have it, what looked like the light of a lamp, trembling among the leaves. And in his astonishment he climbed up the tree, and saw a kite’s nest, in which there was a heap of glittering priceless jewelled ornaments. He took them all out of it, and found among the ornaments that necklace, which he had found in Svarṇadvípa and the kite had carried off. He obtained from that nest unlimited wealth, and, descending from the tree, he went off delighted, and reached in course of time his own city of Harshapura. There the merchant Samudraśúra remained, enjoying himself to his heart’s content with his family, free from the desire of any other wealth.

“So you have that merchant’s whelming in the sea, and that loss of his wealth, and the finding of the necklace, and again the losing of it, and his undeserved degradation to the position of a malefactor, and his immediate obtaining of wealth from the satisfied king, and his return-voyage over the sea, and his being stripped of all his wealth by falling in with bandits on the journey, and at last his acquisition of wealth from the top of a tree. So you see, prince, such is the various working of destiny, but a virtuous man, though he may have endured sorrow, obtains joy at the last.” When Naraváhanadatta heard this from Gomukha, he approved it, and rising up, he performed his daily duties, such as bathing and the like.

Story of king Chamarabála.

Story of Yaśovarman and the two fortunes.

And at midnight Yaśovarman suddenly saw in his sleep some men of terrible appearance with clubs in their hands, entering the room. And they exclaimed angrily—“Fie! why have you taken to-day one karsha more of ghee than the small amount allowed to you, and eaten meat-curry, and drunk a pala of milk?” Then they dragged Arthavarman by his foot and beat him with clubs. And they extracted from his stomach the karsha of ghee, and the milk, flesh, and rice, which he had consumed above his allowance. When Yaśovarman had seen that, he woke up and looked about him, and lo! Arthavarman had woke up, and was seized with colic. Then Arthavarman, crying out, and having his stomach rubbed by his servants, vomited up all the food he had eaten above the proper allowance. After the merchant’s colic was allayed, Yaśovarman said to himself: “Away with this good fortune of wealth, which involves enjoyment of such an equivocal kind! This would be altogether neutralized by such misery of ill health.” In such internal reflections he passed that night.

And in the morning he took leave of Arthavarman, and went to the house of that merchant Bhogavarman. There he approached him in due form, and he received him with politeness, and invited him to dine with him on that day. Now he did not perceive any wealth in the possession of that merchant, but he saw that he had a nice house, and dresses, and ornaments. While Yaśovarman was waiting there, the merchant Bhogavarman proceeded to do his own special business. He took merchandise from one man, and immediately handed it over to another, and without any capital of his own, gained dínárs by the transaction. And he quickly sent those dínárs by the hand of his servant to his wife, in order that she might procure all kinds of food and drink. And immediately one of that merchant’s friends, named Ichchhábharaṇa, rushed in and said to him: “Our dinner is ready, rise up and come to us, and let us eat, for all our other friends have assembled and are waiting for you.” He answered, “I shall not come to-day, for I have a guest here.” Thereupon his friend went on to say to him, “Then let this guest come with you; is he not our friend also? Rise up quickly.” Bhogavarman, being thus earnestly invited by that friend, went with him, accompanied by Yaśovarman, and ate excellent food. And, after drinking wine, he returned, and again enjoyed all kinds of viands and wines at his own house in the evening. And when night came on, he asked his servants—“Have we enough wine left for the latter part of the night or not?” When they replied, “No, master,” the merchant went to bed, exclaiming, “How are we to drink water in the latter part of the night?”

Then Yaśovarman, sleeping at his side, saw in a dream two or three men enter, and some others behind them. And those who entered last, having sticks in their hands, exclaimed angrily to those who entered first—“You rascals! Why did you not provide wine for Bhogavarman to drink in the latter half of the night? Where have you been all this time?” Then they beat them with strokes of their sticks. The men who were beaten with sticks, said, “Pardon this single fault on our part.” And then they and the others went out of the room.

Then Yaśovarman, having seen that sight, woke up and reflected, “The good fortune of enjoyment of Bhogavarman, in which blessings arrive unthought of, is preferable to the good fortune of wealth of Arthavarman, which, though attended with opulence, is devoid of enjoyment.”

In these reflections he spent the rest of the night.

“So a smaller fortune, accompanied with enjoyment, is to be preferred to a great fortune, which, though great, is devoid of enjoyment and therefore useless. So why are you annoyed at the good fortune of king Chamarabála, which is combined with meanness, and do not consider your own fortune, which is rich in the power of giving and in enjoyment?

“So an attack on him by you is not advisable, and there is no auspicious moment for commencing the expedition, and I do not foresee victory to you.” Though those five kings were thus warned by the astrologer, they marched in their impatience against king Chamarabála.

Then he entered his city, and gave turbans of honour to the warder Víra and the general Devabala, and loaded them with jewels. And the king made Yaśolekhá an inmate of his own harem, on the ground that she, being the wife of Pratápasena, was captured according to the custom of the Kshatriyas. And she, though flighty, submitted to him because he had won her by the might of his arm; in those abandoned to the intoxication of love the impressions of virtue are evanescent. And after some days, king Chamarabála, being solicited by the queen Yaśolekhá, let go those five captive kings, Pratápasena and the others, after they had learnt submission and done homage, and after honouring them, dismissed them to their own kingdoms. And then king Chamarabála long ruled his own wealthy kingdom, in which there were no opponents, and the enemies of which had been conquered, and he sported with that Yaśolekhá, who surpassed in form and loveliness beautiful Apsarases, being, as it were, the banner that announced his victory over his foes.

“Thus a brave man, though unsupported, conquers in the front of battle even many enemies coming against him in fight, distracted with hate, and not considering the resources of themselves and their foe, and by his surpassing bravery puts a stop to the fever of their conceit and pride.”

When Naraváhanadatta had heard this instructive tale told by Gomukha, he praised it, and set about his daily duties of bathing and so on. And he spent that night, which was devoted to the amusement of a concert, in singing with his wives in such a ravishing way, that Sarasvatí from her seat in heaven gave him and his beloved ones high commendation.