विक्रम चरित (उज्जैन सम्राट् विक्रमादित्य - पराक्रम, न्याय एवं ३२ पुतलियों की कथा सटीक)

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heroes of his age. He, on his part, became more and more enamoured of the lovely girl : not only did her personal charms captivate him, but her mental acquirements were also of the highest order. The prince went out for awhile, and Moheeny availed herself of the opportunity to declare her passion for him to Hurridass. ‘Oh !’ said she, ‘how happy should I be could I but continually be with him! It was my sudden and irresistible passion for him which reduced me to the condition in which you found me. I belong to a country very remote from this, and it would be an abuse of his goodness to ask him to travel thither; neither is it my wish to do so. I have made up my mind never more to visit it. If the prince will agree to live with me here, nothing shall be wanting on my part to render his stay comfortable, and suitable to his rank and position ; and, should he hereafter wish it, I shall be prepared to set out with him to the uttermost corner of the earth!’ She concluded by requesting Hurridass to inter- cede for her with the prince, in order that their union might be confirmed and their nuptials celebrated by himself. All this the latter communicated to Sewdass on his return, who, not a little elated, gave a joyful consent. The rite of Gundhervivahu* was accordingly performed by Hurridass the very next day, and Moheeny became the wife of Sewdass. The following morning they all three met together, and were greatly delighted at the aspect of affairs. “Soon after these events, Hurridass expressed a desire that their travels might be resumed, and he entreated the prince to accompany him by the right-hand road, as advised by the hermit. Sewdass begged to be excused, as his health, he said, would not permit him to undertake so long a journey. Hurridass, however, concluded that he was too much taken up with his beautiful partner to be persuaded to leave her; he therefore resolved upon prosecuting the journey alone. The prince regretted much that his friend

• Marriage by mutual consent of the parties, without reference to parents or others.

155 and fellow-traveller should proceed without him, but he was still more disinclined to part from his wife ; they had no alternative, therefore, but to separate. The prince embraced Hurridass, and begged him to visit them without fail within four months, which Hurridass promised to do ; and at length, having partaken of a hasty repast, he saddled his horse and departed, amidst many expressions of kindness and solicitude from his friends. The prince continued to live in the cavern with his wife Moheeny.

156 CHAPTER X. Continuation of Veytal's tale. " HURRIDASS, while jogging along, remembered the admonition of his tutor, and prayed to the Almighty to guide him safely through his journey, and enable him to fulfil the command given him. He crossed the desert without mishap, and was pleased when he beheld the tree at the junction of the two roads, under which he had sat with his companion. He rested there awhile, and then again set out. Having travelled about thirty-two yojuns, he arrived at a meadow, in the centre of which he perceived a beautiful lake, and on its bank a small thatched hut. He went up to it, to ascertain whether any one resided there, and was agreeably surprised to find a venerable hermit seated within. Hurridass entered, and, prostrating himself at the feet of the holy man, received his benediction. The hermit then enquired whence he had come, and what was his mission. Hurridass satisfied him on these points, and told him even of the prince and his habitation. " The hermit was very learned, and a profound thinker, —well acquainted with all the arts and sciences; he was also a mild, temperate, and cheerful companion. He seemed exceedingly pleased with the concluding portion of Hurri- dass' narrative, and greatly commended him for having never once lost sight of his tutor's injunction. 'Hurridass,' said the hermit, 'there are but few who will willingly undergo such toils and inconveniences for the sake of obeying their tutors: he who does so, not only pleases the instructor, but the Almighty also.' After this, the hermit said he might remain with him as long as he pleased or wished, assuring him that he would make him as comfort- able as possible, and teach him some curious and sacred

157 arts, as well as some rare and wonderful charms, such as were known but to few human beings. Hurridass prostrated himself a second time, and renewed his thanks; he then decided on taking up his residence for a time with the hermit. "Let us now see how Prince Sewdass fared with his beloved Moheeny. He was in the enjoyment of ease and happiness, there being nothing wanting to render a reason- able mind contented and peaceful. The giant had hoarded up plenty of provisions and other needful articles, for the use of Moheeny, before he brought her to the cavern; and there was a deep river, full of fish, on the side of the moun- tain, close to the cavern. One day the prince and Moheeny took a walk together towards this river, and they sat down on its bank to watch the various fishes sporting before them. It was indeed a quiet and delicious retreat. As they sat thus, a sudden movement, as of contention, was observable among the fish. The prince had, in an affectionate manner, wound his arm round the princess' neck, which caused the centre diamond of her necklace, which was of extraordinary size and brilliancy, to drop into the river, and it was immediately swallowed by one of the fish. The prince grieved at the loss of the diamond, and for a time sat without uttering a word. So sat the princess also,—not in anger, but in grief. They retired to their dwelling with heavy hearts, and Sewdass, observing that the princess appeared unusually out of sorts, which he attributed to the irritation she felt at her loss, said to her, 'I pray you, let me know the value of the diamond, and I will endeavour to replace it.' Moheeny hung down her head, but did not speak a word in reply, so deeply absorbed was her mind. The prince continued,—'If a man be once dead, he will never again return to life: his wife and children may lament him as much as they please, and even sacrifice their own lives, in vain. Should an article of small size be dropped into the ocean, it would be useless seeking for it there. The pleasure we derive from any one source has its

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limit : we should not look beyond it, for if we lose it once, it cannot be regained. Listen to me, dear love,' added the prince, 'to eat whilst walking, to laugh whilst talking, to be jealous of others' prospects, to regret losses, to recal the past, to interrupt the conversation of others, and to be eavesdropping, are unmistakeable signs of a perverted understanding. Do not, therefore, my dear Moheeny, grieve for the loss of the precious stone, but try to calm yourself.' These words, spoken in the most endearing tone, helped to clear away the mist of regret that clouded Moheeny's mind, and to restore her to her usual serenity and liveliness. It will be here necessary to make a short digression. "To the northward, about forty-seven yojuns from the cave, there was a city called Hempoory, the ruling monarch of which was named Kankameroo. The city covered an extent of some seven yojuns, and was densely populated. It pleased the Almighty to cause a great scarcity of water in the dominions of this king, the largest ponds, wells, lakes, and rivers being dried up ; the people were conse- quently obliged to quit their respective localities, and take up their residence in places where a sufficiency of this necessary of life was likely to be met with. In this city also lived a poor and destitute fisherman, with a large family wholly depending on his unaided exertions. This family, as may be imagined, was reduced to the most pain- ful stage of distress by the dearth of water,—in reality they were but eking out a wretched and miserable existence. The fisherman happened on one occasion, in pursuit of his calling, to come to that part of the river where the diamond had been dropped by Prince Sewdass. Finding the river well stocked with fish, he thanked God for direct- ing his steps to the spot, and then cast in his net. When he drew it up, he found it well filled, so he cast it a second time, and was favored with another large draught of fish, among which he found one far excelling the others in beauty and brilliancy,—in fact he had never before seen one to be

159 compared to it. This was the fish which had swallowed the diamond. Having admired it for some time, he deposited it, with the others, in two baskets, which he slung across his shoulder, and in this way he went home. He gave the finest fish to his wife, to be dressed for his dinner, asking her to have it ready by the time he returned from the market. The fisherman's wife, on opening the belly of the fish, found therein the rich diamond, set in gold. Its brightness dazzled her eyes, and shone through every crevice in the humble dwelling. The woman had had some ex- perience in things of this sort, she therefore wrapped up the jewel in a piece of cloth the instant she found it, lest some one should see it and deprive her of the treasure. She was quite elated with the prize; and, as she hastily set about preparing her husband's dinner, she felt impatient to impart the joyful tidings to him. When the fisherman returned from the market, his wife placed his meal before him, and being hungry, not having had a good dinner for the previous four or five days, he fell to heartily. When he had ap- peased his hunger, his wife told him of the diamond she had found, and he desired her to produce it. As soon as he saw it, he was struck with amazement at its brilliancy and evident value, and could not help giving utterance to an exclamation of joy at the sight of the unexpected wealth before him, which would render him rich and independent for the remainder of his life. He knew pretty well the value of the diamond, and he cautioned his wife not to tell any one of their good luck. 'God has so bountifully provided for us,' said he, 'in consideration, doubtless, of the continued distresses to which we have been subject.' He told his wife he would take the diamond to the king of the city, who, being a worthy and good man, would no doubt reward him liberally. Accordingly, having clad himself in mean apparel, he placed the diamond in a common plate, and took it to the palace, where, on presenting himself, he was asked by one of the attendants what he wanted. He said he had brought a certain article for his majesty, and

160 begged to be allowed an interview. The attendant reported the matter to the king, who was pleased to grant the request of the poor fisherman. The attendant led the way into an inner apartment, and he followed. Being come before the king, the fisherman respectfully saluted his majesty, who asked him what he had brought. 'May it please your majesty,' said the wily fisherman, 'I am an inhabitant of this city, where, by severe losses and misfortunes, I have been reduced to the greatest straits. I have been compelled to part with every valuable article that was bequeathed to me by my ancestors, to provide food for myself and family. This diamond (at the same time presenting the plate to his majesty) is all I have now left. I thought it best to show it to your majesty before I offered it for sale elsewhere.' The diamond was one of a rare kind and of great size: it shone like a bright meteor, dazzling all who beheld it. The king was himself no less surprised than the rest. After admiring it for awhile, he took it in his hand, and, in a transport of joy, exclaimed, 'You a poor man!—even I, who am a king, and the possessor of many jewels, have never yet seen a stone of such beauty and dazzling brightness.' The king sent for his jewellers to value it, and they too were amazed at the beauty and size of the precious stone. After turning it over and examining it for a long time, they pro- nounced the diamond invaluable. The king immediately ordered his treasurer to give the owner of the diamond as much money as he should require, and to preserve the stone in his royal treasury; in short, he became the pur- chaser. “As the king handed it to the treasurer, he observed that the stone was set in gold, and had evidently formed part of a lady's neck ornament. He concluded, too, that the person who had worn it must have been a creature of rare perfec- tion and beauty. This idea worked in his mind to such a degree, that he called his prime minister, and made him acquainted with the fact of his being desperately enamoured of this unknown lady; ordering him, at the same time, to

161 procure this Pudmini* for him. The minister was astounded at this unreasonable demand; his duty, however, was to obey; so he despatched couriers in different direc- tions, to seek for information, with instructions that if they found a person answering the description given them, to bring her without delay to court. The minister himself proceeded to an island called Jumboo-Dweep,† where a woman was said to have been seen of such beauty and qualifications as to entitle her to the designation of Pud- mini,—at least so the minister was informed. He searched for her, however, in vain. After his fruitless search he returned to the city, as did also the couriers from the other quarters. The king was much grieved to learn the unsuc- cessful termination of his minister’s journey, which only added to his passion, instead of in any way tending to lessen it. His malady increased to such an extent that he abstained almost altogether from food and rest. The minis- ter was the only person who during this period conducted the business of the state; and though he was just and forbearing, yet the people began to show signs of dissatis- faction at the continued absence of the king for no other reason than that he was indulging in a morbid passion for an unknown person. “Things were in this state when a widow named Sham- bae, who was cook to the royal household, hearing of his majesty’s indisposition, presented herself before him, saying, ‘May it please your majesty, I think I can find a way to cure you, if you will let me know the cause of your indis- position,—how your majesty has become so stricken, and what has made this strong impression upon you.’ The king gave her a particular account of all that had occurred to him relative to the diamond he had purchased a short time ago from, as he thought, a citizen in reduced circum-

• The first of the four classes into which women are said to be divided. † The central division of the world; according to some, India. V

162 stances. The widow possessed a depth of knowledge and cunning worthy of a statesman, and though she was struck dumb with surprise for awhile at the monarch's whim, she requested him to point out the individual from whom he had purchased the diamond, saying that she would try to bring about the wishes of the king. The fisherman was immediately brought before Shambae, who ordered him on pain of death to inform her truly from whence he had pro- cured the diamond. He replied, with much trepidation, that if she would be pleased first to assure him of his majesty's pardon for the deception he had practised, he would reveal the truth. ‘Well,’ replied Shambae, ‘I will secure for you his majesty's pardon, be the circumstances what they may. Speak fearlessly.’ The fisherman then told her his adventure, exactly as it had occurred, and what his profession really was, renewing at the conclusion his solicitation for the king's clemency. Shambae made him wait until she returned from the king, to whom she hastened, and represented the case, saying that the person whom his majesty had taken for an impoverished citizen was a fisher- man, and assuring his majesty that he need not be under any apprehension, for that, if he would rely on her, and have patience for a few days, she would, by employing her utmost zeal in his service, afford him the pleasure, and that very soon, of possessing the object of his love and admira- tion. She then set out, accompanied by the fisherman, in search of the place where the fish containing the diamond had been caught. The fisherman guided her to the spot : it was a beautiful and charming locality, and the pellucid stream flowing tranquilly along added to the charms of the scene. Shambae bade the fisherman leave her, after he had shown her the exact spot, and while revolving in her mind what plan to adopt, she happened to cast her eye on the traces of footsteps on the pathway along which Prince Sewdass and the lady of the cave had but a short time before walked. She followed up these footmarks until she came to the entrance of the cave, which was not very far from

163 the river. Shambae entered, with great hesitation, and was surprised to find herself in a most delightful and spacious hall. She advanced a little further, and beheld the beauti- ful Moheeny seated on a couch, with the prince reclining negligently by her side. Shambae stood rooted to the spot, as if spell-bound at so much beauty and perfection. She dared not and could not advance further, so she made signs to Moheeny to approach. Moheeny was astonished also, but her astonishment arose from a different cause to that of the intruder : she thought only of the audacity of the woman in venturing at once into the cave, without leave or warning. Then again she thought it might be some unfortunate woman who had been bereft of all she possessed by some of the prowlers of the forest, and who now sought her help and protection. As this idea crossed her mind, she rose from her seat and approached the widow, saying, ‘Well, what is your business in this place?’ Shambae threw herself at the feet of the beauteous lady, and, in the most piteous and mournful tone, replied, ‘Have pity, oh, lady!—my good angel, and goddess of beauty! I am a poor helpless widow: God has left me neither son nor daughter to be the prop of my old age, which is the cause of my having determined on seeking for death in this wild and desolate place, and thus find relief from the cruel grief which now rends my heart! I thought and believed I should meet with no human being here, but God has provi- dentially directed me to this secluded dwelling. I am glad indeed that I should have the good fortune to come into the presence of so noble and handsome a lady. I humbly ask you to keep me in your service. I can cook well, and perform every domestic duty.’ During this address Sham- bae made a great show of grief, and shed an abundance of tears. All this seemed very extraordinary to Moheeny, though she pitied greatly the distressed object before her. She told her, however, that the prince her husband was then asleep, but as soon as he awoke she would ask his permission to keep her in her service. The prince awoke

164 shortly after, and Moheeny then begged him to consent to her employing the widow, who seemed altogether destitute. ‘Consider,’ replied the prince, ‘we are quite happy in our secluded home. This woman may perhaps have come here with no good intention ; if so, we shall have to regret what you now propose doing,—it may be productive of injury to us. People are not all so virtuous and good as they them- selves would fain appear, and therefore cannot always be expected to speak the truth. We are here living in content and happiness, and I see no necessity for, this woman’s being retained in our service. Take my advice,— do not engage her. If you do, I feel a presentiment that some harm will befal us, which may not then be remedi- able.’ The princess, nevertheless, was so urgent in her entreaties that the prince was compelled to yield, though much against his will, and the widow’s services were retained. Shambae was questioned as to her knowledge of cooking, and other domestic work, and her answers were satisfactory. On discovering the aversion of the prince to her, the widow conceived a great and bitter hatred against him, which, however, she concealed in such a manner that it was not discovered until too late. “ One whole month rolled away without anything unusual occurring to disturb the tranquillity of that peace- ful home. During this time Shambae diverted her new mistress with interesting tales and witty anecdotes. In ‘this way she so ingratiated herself into her favor, that the indiscreet but candid Moheeny related to her the little history of her meeting with the prince, and of the extent and sincerity of their love. This was what Shambae longed to know, and she now found how she could most easily and effectually injure the prince. Shambae had, previous to her departure from the palace, procured some poisonous ingredients of great strength, and she was not long in finding an opportunity to execute her vile and atrocious purpose. She one day poisoned the prince’s food, and, owing to the peculiar flavour of the ingredient used, which, as a matter

165 of course, was imparted to the food with which it was mixed, the prince partook of his dinner with more than his usual appetite; but, strange to say, it had no effect beyond that of intoxicating him. Now, the prince’s Gooru had instruct- ed him how, by holding the little sword which had been given him in a peculiar manner, and by pronouncing certain mystical words, to counteract the effect of any injury which might be attempted against him. Finding himself, there- fore, unusually affected in the head, he had recourse to the sword, and became in a moment perfectly restored. The widow, who had calculated upon the death of the prince, was not a little surprised to find him alive and in his usual health, after the time allowed for the operation of the drug she had given him had elapsed. She was lost in astonished conjecture, and could not understand how the prince had escaped the effect of the potent poison. “ Baulked in this her first attempt, Shambae redoubled her efforts to remove the object of her hatred, who was also the only obstacle to the success of her great project. She had another plan in her head, and she proceeded to carry it out. One day, being alone with Moheeny, she addressed her thus :—‘ I have something to communicate to you, good lady, which it concerns you much to know, and is of the utmost importance to you.’ The princess asked her, with a smile, what it was. ‘ It is this, dear lady,’ said she ; ‘ you fancy, do you not, that your husband loves you with as much sincerity.and truth as you love him ?’ The happy Moheeny replied, ‘ Yes; what doubt can there be of it? He loves me. tenderly, and gives me every day fresh proofs of his regard.’ ‘ I don’t, however, believe it,’ said the wily Shambae ; ‘ you know—or if you do not, you ought to—that men are generally more faithless and hard-hearted than those of our sex. I thereforo advise you to try his love. If you think he is not jealous and suspicious of you, ask him to-night, when you find him in good humour, this question, ridiculous though it may seem, and you will soon be undeceived,—“ Pray, when and how will you die ?”

166 If he tells you that he loves you with all his soul, you may be assured he is not to be believed ; the true sign of affec- tion is when the wife can without hesitation say whether or not her husband's love is exclusively hers. I hope you wilt obtain an answer on this subject from the prince, and that it may not be accompanied by some unfeeling threat.' Moheeny asked Shambae how she could propose that such a ridiculous and unfeeling question should be put to the prince. 'I know,' continued she, 'that my husband will not refuse to reveal any secret to me, if I request him to do so. No ; I am sure he will tell me without a moment's hesitation.' Shambae, after this conversation, busied herself with her usual occupation, and set about preparing the evening meal. When it was ready, Moheeny and the prince partook of it, after which they retired for the night. "Shortly after their retirement, Moheeny, addressing the prince, said, 'Dear Sewdass, I have a request to make of you, and I conjure you to answer me. If you have the same love for me as I have for you, you will not hesitate to comply with my desire. You are a prince by birth, and I have been an eye-witness to your valour and bravery, which——' Here the prince interrupted her before she had time to finish the sentence, and said, 'Do not lengthen your discourse, my love, but tell me at once what it is you desire.' Moheeny eagerly said, 'I wish to be informed what death you will die, and what circumstances will attend your dissolution.' The prince heard her with feelings of horror and disgust, and was enraged to such a degree that, falling back in his bed against a cushion which supported him, he addressed Moheeny in an indignant and scornful tone. 'I all along thought,' said he, 'that you were a woman of sense and discretion, but what you have now pre- sumed to ask convinces me that I have been wrong in my calculation of your worth and merit. Tell me, I beseech you, what could have induced you to put such a question to me ? You must be aware that such a proceeding on your part can only tend to lessen my esteem for you. I advise

167 you from this day never again to allude to the subject, lest I be tempted to punish you for it. I am not allowed by my preceptor, on pain of death, to impart to any one the secret you wish me to reveal.’ Moheeny was struck dumb at this affronting answer. She experienced great difficulty in appeasing the anger of her lord, which, however, she at last in a great measure succeeded in effecting. “In the morning, Moheeny told Shambae that her husband had not deigned to reveal the secret to her, as he could not do it without subjecting himself to certain death. The widow replied, ‘Did not you, princess, boast to me of your exclusive control over the prince?—that he loves you as never man before loved, and that he would refuse you nothing? It is therefore surprising to me that you did not persist longer, in order to satisfy yourself on the subject I alluded to. You see what hard-hearted creatures men are! Notwithstanding all the prince’s professions of love for you, no sooner do you ask him to satisfy your curiosity on one little point than he scruples not to disappoint you. How- ever, you are his wife, and ought certainly to know every- thing that concerns him. You can persist in your request until he relents, and, by setting before him the relation in which you stand to him, bring him to a sense of what is due to you in your position.’ She then ridiculed the idea of the prince’s sudden death should he reveal the secret to his wife; and wound up by pointing out the marked and unfeeling manner in which he refused compliance with her wishes. Moheeny was naturally of an easy and pliable disposition, and her youth and inexperience rendered her incapable of perceiving the drift of Shambae’s continued and eager entreaties to obtain the desired information. ‘You speak truly,’ said Moheeny; ‘I have an undoubted right to be satisfied by my husband.’ So impressed was she with the slight that had been put upon her by Prince Sewdass, that she went into her room, and, having thrown aside her ornaments, gave herself up to the indulgence of immoderate grief, tearing out her beautiful and clustering hair by hand-

168 fuls in her rage. The prince, as was customary with him, made his ablutions and performed his usual worship before he sat down to his meal, but was astonished, after waiting some time, that his consort did not make her appearance. He enquired of Shambae where Moheeny was, and the widow said she was in her bed-room, but that she did not know what she was doing. The prince went hastily into the room, and there saw his wife asleep, with her counte- nance swollen with recent weeping and her hair dishevelled and in disorder. He wondered at all this, and, after gazing at her for awhile in bewilderment, he approached her and roused her from her slumber. To his eager enquiries as to what had occurred to disturb her so violently, she replied that she was surprised he should take any interest in her after what had passed between them the previous night. ‘By refusing to comply with a reasonable request on my part,’ said she, ‘you have proved that you no longer deem me worthy of sharing your confidence. Is that not a suffi- cient cause to make me miserable for life?’ The prince was much mortified and even enraged at this language from one whom he had hitherto considered quite a pattern of obedience; his love for her, however, got the better of him after a short time, and he said, ‘If you are determined upon knowing the secret, I will impart it to you; the consequence you already know. Go and bathe, and after you have taken your food and adorned your person, come to me.’ Moheeny, hearing this, did all she was asked to do, and once more regained her usual vivacity and good humour. At night, when they retired to rest, she desired Sowdass to fulfil his promise of that morning, as she was very impatient to receive the desired information. The prince told her that, from her importunity on the forbidden subject, he appre- hended some calamity was about to befal them, but that as she seemed resolved upon it, he could not in his heart refuse her, though his revealing the secret would be at the risk of his very existence, as he had already told her, ‘Look at that sword,’ continued he, pointing to the one hanging in his

169 room; 'whenever that weapon is put into the fire and heated until it is red-hot, that moment will be my last. This is all I have been told by my preceptor. I hope you will, if you value my life, bury this secret in your own bosom. It is unseemly in a man and wife to allow anything to cause a diminution of their regard for each other; and it is solely to avoid such an evil that I have been induced to reveal the secret of my death to you. Let me see that you prove yourself, my dearest Moheeny, worthy of the great trust I have now reposed in you.' Moheeny affectionately embraced the prince, and then fell prostrate at his feet, imploring heaven to preserve and prosper him, and to increase daily, aye, even hourly, their mutual regard and affection for each other. "Moheeny was not a little surprised to hear the account given her of the sword, and, as is usual with women gene- rally, she thought of the necessity of having a confidante. Shambae had so won upon the affection of the princess, that the latter thought she might place implicit reliance upon her; so she eagerly awaited the coming morning to unburden her bosom of the weighty secret, which had become so oppressive to her that she spent a restless night. Accordingly, in the morning, Moheeny called the widow, and informed her in an exulting manner that she had at last persuaded her husband to tell her the secret of his death, and she then proceeded to lay it all in detail before the now overjoyed Shambae. 'Is this true?' asked the latter. 'Yes,' replied Moheeny, 'he has actually told me all that his tutor, the learned hermit, had foretold regarding him; so that you see you were wrong in not believing him to be sincere in his love for me.' The wicked Shambae rejoiced at the favorable result of all the trouble she had been at for king Kankameroo's sake, and she told Moheeny that she was glad to hear her husband had given so great a proof of his devotion to her. 'You are happy,' said she, 'superlatively happy; for what can give greater happiness than the consciousness of being loved in an equal measure W

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by the object dearest to us? Life without love would become a loathsome burden.' " Shambae allowed. three days to pass by without attempting anything further, except that she asked the princess, in a playful manner, to let her have a sight of the wonderful sword which had been bestowed by the hermit on her husband. 'It must be a miraculous one,' said she. Moheeny was quite ignorant of the villany that lurked under so much apparent regard and solicitude; she there- fore did not hesitate to satisfy her in this particular, and, with that view, conducted her to the inner room. Shambae marked well the spot where it hung; and, to disarm suspi- cion, again entered into an eulogistic dissertation on the sincerity of the prince's attachment to his wife. The widow determined in her own mind, however, that the prince should die that night; so she made a fierce fire in the kitchen, and, after they had all retired for the night, she went on tip-toe into the room where the sword was suspended, and stole away with it in her possession. She then hastened to put it into the fire; and, as it became red-hot, the life of Prince Sewdass gradually ebbed away, until at length he expired! " Next morning, when Moheeny awoke and arose from her bed, she thought she noticed something unusual in the appearance of her husband; she therefore tried to awaken him, but what was her horror at finding that he was stiff and lifeless! She instantly raised an alarm, and cried for help. 'Oh, my dear and loving husband!' exclaimed she, in an agony of grief, 'what is this that has happened to you? Why lie you there so motionless and still?' She then rushed from the apartment, calling wildly to Shambae for assistance, like one suddenly bereft of her senses. The suspicion of the widow's treachery now for the first time crossed her mind, and on glancing at the place where the sword usually hung, her fears were confirmed—it had disappeared! She wept bitter tears of repentance—she beat her breast, and tore her hair. 'Unhappy wretch that

171 I am!' cried she, 'where shall I look for protection now?— oh, where shall I find peace? Could I but restore you, my dearest husband, to life and consciousness, if but for a moment, I would willingly forfeit mine own! Alas! this would never have happened had I not compelled you to comunicate the secret of your death! I am irrecoverably undone!' While Moheeny was thus lamenting her cruel loss, Shambae rushed into the room with outstretched arms, feigning great distress, and exclaiming, 'My dear lady!—my angelic mistress!—what is the matter? What has happened to you?' 'Cruel woman!' replied Moheeny, 'Your are the cause of this mischief!—I know it but too well! You have cruelly, heartlessly, deceived me! Your barbarous advice has made me miserable for life, depriving me of my dear and fondly-cherished husband! There was not the slightest need for his communicating to me the secret which you have, by your artful designs, wormed out of him for my own and his ruin. His blood be upon your head! He had expressly desired me not to admit you into our service, but out of pity for you I prevailed on him to consent to it; and this is what you have done in return for so much kindness! Oh, inhuman wretch!—how could you be so un

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city hard by, where I will procure for you one of the hand- somest and mightiest of the princes of the earth to supply the place of him whose loss you now deplore. This king— for he is the reigning monarch of the city in question—will not, I am sure, give you the least cause of dissatisfaction : he will bestow upon you his undivided affection, and share all he has with you.' This speech so enraged Moheeny, that she seized a large stone, and threw it with great force at Shambae, who, however, by a timely motion of her head, avoided the blow which had been aimed at her. Notwith- standing this unmistakeable sign of Moheeny's disinclina- tion to listen to the widow's proposal, the latter again addressed her. 'You are a lovely being,' said she, 'and it will never do for you to pine away in obscurity in this desolate wilderness. Besides, some misfortune greater than the present will probably befal you if you remain here, now that your protector and husband is numbered with the dead, nor can I stay with you any longer; so take my advice, and follow me. Leave this dismal place, and let the recollec- tion of the dead be buried with him. It is appointed that every man should die once,—it is the road we must all go; in a word, it is worse than useless to rush into extremes of passion when by so doing we cannot remedy the evil.' Shambae continued in this strain for some time, and at length succeeded in making some impression on Moheeny, who, on considering her isolated condition, and the impos- sibility of remaining much longer in that dreary spot, in the end consented to accompany the widow, and be guided in her future proceedings by circumstances. "There were now only seven days required for the expira- tion of the period at the end of which Hurridass, the prince's bosom-friend and companion, had promised to visit them. Moheeny knew this, and she resolved upon keeping it closely locked within her own bosom, lest the widow should find means to deceive Hurridass and prevent his coming, so much in dread of this woman did the unfortunate Moheeny stand. Previous to their departure she went into her

173 husband's room, and wept over his remains; she then covered them with a large winding-sheet, upon which she placed two of the jewels of her neck ornament, exposed openly to view, for the information of Hurridass, should he arrive in fulfilment of his promise. After this, with a heavy heart, she bade Shambae take her where she pleased. Moheeny plucked off two other jewels on her way out, and placed them in the middle of the entrance to the cave; and all along her journey she managed, .unperceived by her companion, to drop a jewel here and there, at short dis- tances, by which their track might be preserved, should Hurridass feel disposed to follow her.