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

54 the lake. It so happened that the tree under which he sat was the one most loved by the parrot. The brahmin, after having adjusted his clothes, which had been disarranged by his recent travelling, raised his voice and prayed loudly. “Oh, supreme ruler of the universe!” said he, “do not permit me to go back empty-handed from my travels. I solicit no other favor than that you will be pleased to grant me an interview with my old patron and just king Vickra- madetea. The world does not often produco such a rare and virtuous prince: he is rich in every good quality.” Before the brahmin took up his position under the tree, the unfor- tunate parrot, who was perched up aloft, had observed him approaching. He now said to the brahmin, “My good sir, you seem to have come a long distance, and you are greatly fatigued, no doubt, by walking in this hot season of the year. Pray be seated. Please inform me respecting your destination, whom you seek, and your reasons for under- taking so long a journey.” The traveller was extremely pleased at the consideration and sympathising manner in which he was addressed. He suspected something, but could not well define even to himself what that suspicion was. He said to the parrot, however, “Oh, excellent parrot! too truly am I fatigued, both in body and mind; but I feel much relieved of my anxiety at beholding you and hearing you speak. If you are not what you seem to be, pray tell me. I suspect you to be the king of whom I am in search. If so, hasten your return to the city of Oujein. I entreat you, lose no time; and make me acquainted with the circumstances attending your metamorphosis. If you will afford me no comfort in this respect, I shall certainly die of grief.” “By what means,” said the parrot, “would you know again the king? Perhaps he is not in human shape.” “Why not?” said the traveller; “he is a most excellent personage, and I can point him out by virtue of his wisdom, exquisite beauty, and other rare qualities. I am sanguine I shall soon meet him. I see marvellous signs that forebode it. My hand is quivering, my right eye twitching, and the bird

55 Pingla* frequently perches near me. From these signs I am led to believe that it will not be long ere my desire to behold Vickramadetea be accomplished.” Having listened to all that the traveller had said, the parrot, at one bound, approached him, and declared himself to be Vickramadetea. He then related how he had become a parrot, his proceedings while in the possession of the Bahooroopee, in what manner he had been bought by Dushwant, the barbarous attempt of Kamsaina, the actress, against his life, how she became deprived of her riches through his instrumentality, and all the hardships he had endured. He dwelt largely on each of the circumstances attendant upon his adventures. -Lastly, thanking the brahmin for his sincerity and gratitude towards him, which were exemplified by the trouble he had taken to seek him at so great a distance from Oujein,—passing over mountains, through wastes unknown, and foreign cities, where he must have encountered a variety of dangers, disappointments, and delays, and all the hardships and privations attendant upon such a journey,—the bird assured the brahmin that he would at all times and ever after remember, with deep gratitude and profound sentiments of love and esteem, the sacrifices and inconveniences he had been put to for his sake. “My dear Vickramadetea,” said the brahmin, “I have certainly endured much for you, but the wish of my heart being realised, they are no longer thought of, still less dwelt upon. I now feel a most delightful sensation of pleasure that is undefinable. I am, now that I have found you, supremely happy.” And he held the parrot to his bosom, and loaded him with kisses and fond embraces. He made the parrot acquainted with the treatment he had received from the infamous Koobjuck, when he presented himself at court for his yearly allowance; nor did he forget to relate the case of the unfortunate prince whom he had found at his devotions, and practising austerities and severities upon his person, at the temple, and

• A sort of crane, the appearance of which is said to be a good omen.

56 the assurance he had given him that he would exert all his powers to secure for him the desire of his heart—the hand- some princess. Vickramadetea's nobleness prompted him to attend to the wants of others, ere he proceeded with anything for himself; so he expressed to the brahmin his willingness to proceed to the place where the young prince of whom he spoke was to be met with, and promised that he would assist in the endeavour to obtain the hand of the princess for the anxious and devoted lover. The parrot and the brahmin passed the night together under the same tree, and in the morning, Somedut placed him on his shoulder and retraced his steps towards the temporary abode of prince Duntsain. The prince saw the brahmin with the parrot approaching, and awaited them with anxiety depicted on his countenance. When they came near to him he saluted Somedut, and addressed him thus :—" My dear Somedut, since your departure I have been placed in a worse position than that in which you found me on your first visit. My passion is killing me gradually, my patience is fast wearing out, my courage fails me more than ever, and I am the most wretched of human creatures." The brahmin replied, " Look here, this bird is the king Vickramadetea, and he will be the means of procuring you your wishes," and he placed the bird on the prince's hand, who prostrated himself in all respect before it. The prince was pleased, and a gleam of joy shot through his withered heart. He likewise made his obeisance, entreating both the king and Somedut not to suffer him any longer to remain a prey to the anguish he had borne for twelve long years and more, but to take pity upon him, and to fulfil the promise they had vouchsafed to make him in their kindness of heart as early as possible. The parrot told his friend Somedut that he wished him to learn the charm of changing his natural shape and appearance, as it was necessary they should mutually exchange their conditions : in this way he said he would be able to bring about speedily the prince's desire. Somedut consented at once, and commenced to learn the mysterious

57 charm ; when he became sufficiently versed in it to answer present purposes, they were each of them transformed : Vickramadetea became a brahmin, and the brahmin a parrot. This bird was delivered into the hands of Prince Duntsain, who, together with the bird and the newly-created brahmin, proceeded to the gate of the princess' subterranean dwelling. Having reached it, the prince and the parrot remained outside, while the brahmin entered alone, and did not stop till he had reached the magnificent palace, situated in the centre of a vast enclosure. He perceived near the palace, in an opposite direction, the whole of the machinery which had been represented to him. He went on till he came up to a number of slaves loitering about. He desired one of them to go instantly and inform his mistress Pudmavuntty that a stranger had arrived, willing to win her hand on the stipulated terms. The slave having reported the arrival of the brahmin to his mistress, introduced him by her sanction into her appartment, which was constructed in a most magnificent style, and at enormous cost, by the most skilful architect of the time. The walls and massive pillars were covered with numerous beautiful representations of beasts and birds, in paintings of gold, with trees of verdant enamel ; then, passing a hall, he was agreeably surprised to see one of the finest orchards a man can well conceive but rarely sees, in which the wonderful and tasteful arrangement of the trees and shrubs, their luxuriant growth, the diversity of the fruits, some few of which he had never before seen or heard of, their freshness and delicacy, and the sweet perfume wafted along by the gentle play of the breeze that was then blowing, all conspired to overpower him with a sensation of unalloyed pleasure for the time. The flower-garden was not less extraordinary in its kind : it was, as in the case of the orchard, arranged with much tasteful skill, and the fragrance issuing from a thousand different sources was a luxury vouchsafed to few. The sweet warblings of a number of birds added to the grandeur and attractions of the place. In short, whoever entered this domicile could not help being I

58 transported with ecstacy at the many and varied sources of enjoyment and pleasure that were there to be met with. The brahmin found that the Princess Pudmavuntty, the mistress of all these rarities, was herself the rarest of all rarities. She was so handsome that fancy could not possibly picture a more perfect being. She was dressed in the richest and costliest linen, and wore precious stones of immense value and in great quantity. When she saw the brahmin advancing towards her, she welcomed him in a very courteous manner, and thus spoke to him :—" I have long been expecting a person like yourself; your looks convince me that you will soon become master of the art by which alone any one can obtain my hand. I sincerely hope you will not prove unworthy of the venture you have made, but that, by a successful execution of your arduous task, you will succeed in establishing a right to claim me in marriage." The supposed brahmin replied that he would strive his utmost to become capable of giving adequate proof of his sincerity. He then approached the vessel, called to mind the supreme power of God, and, before ascending in the sinka, took a small portion of a peculiar description of grass, and, having pronounced some words connected with a charm over it, threw it into the oil which was boiling up, and descended at once into it through the sinka that was suspended. It is wonderful to relate that the oil suddenly became cold and calm! He remained for a few moments in it, turning from one side to another, and he sustained not the slightest injury thereby. The princess, seeing this success, came running with a garland of flowers in her hand to encircle the neck of her future lord, as is usually the case among princesses. She had herself witnessed the prodigy, and there was no mistaking it. She requested him to embrace the earliest opportunity for solemnising their marriage ceremony; and, putting forth her hand, while encircling his neck with the string of flowers, she said, "I am fully satisfied with your might, and will irrevocably become yours. Pray make haste and come out." "You

59 are now mine, and whatever I shall bid you perform you must agree to in all obedience," said the brahmin in reply. "Yes, my lord," said she, "I can truly affirm henceforth I am your slave, entirely disposed to comply with all your wishes." The brahmin immediately came out of the vessel, and declared to her the particular case of the unfortunate Prince Duntsain,—that he had, during a period of twelve years, practised religious austerities, in the hope of conciliating the gods in his favor, in order to become pos- sessed of her,—and that, therefore, she must of necessity marry him. She, having already promised obedience to his commands, after reflecting for a short time remembered that she had done wrong in thus pledging her word. "I will, however," said she aloud, "if you wish it, attend to the request of Prince Duntsain; but you must first oblige me in one respect, otherwise I shall not do so." "Do not hesitate to make me acquainted with your wish," replied the brahmin, "for I am ready to oblige you in any way you can point out, so long as you agree to take the prince for your future husband." She promised to explain in the evening, and in the mean while asked him to partake of a meal with her in her apartments, with which he complied. When it was night, and they had partaken of the meal, they seated themselves on a couch in deep conversation; after some time had elapsed in this way, the brahmin asked her to communicate to him what she had said in the morning was to be the condition of her taking Prince Duntsain for her future lord. "I do not wish to ask you for any favors, or to put you to any inconvenience," said the princess, "all I desire is, that you will make me laugh and speak four different times successively; I will then do as you bid me. Failing in this, however, I must give you distinctly to understand that I will not accept of the prince for my husband." The brahmin felt disconcerted at this pro- position, but he immediately thought of Veytal, whom he instantly summoned to the spot. He appeared to Vickrama- detea, but remained invisible to all others. Vickramadetea

told him the circumstances in which he was placed, and besought his kind offices. The spirit promised them, and said, “My good sir, be easy—be always merry and cheerful. I shall not fail to do before the princess that which will cause her to relax her rigidity and laugh outright, and thus will you gain your end; and what is more, she will at the same time be thankful to you for it, instead of viewing it, as she now does, with an unfavorable eye.” So saying he departed; and with this interview between Vickramadetea and Veytal we close the present chapter.

61 CHAPTER V. Vickram reposes in the palace of Princess Pudmavuntty—Veytal appears, in the form of a parrot, and commences to relate the history of King Bhudrasain, his son Soorsain, and the princess his wife. KING VICKRAMADETEA, under the guise of the brahmin, now reposed within the splendid and sumptuous palace of the Princess Pudmavuntty. At the same time the spirit of Veytal transformed himself into a parrot that was represented in one of the paintings on the wall, and came down and rested near where Vickramadetea and the princess were reposing. He began by stroking and flapping his wings in a sly and knowing manner. The princess, observing this unusual circumstance and great novelty, was exceedingly amused; having never before witnessed such a strange faculty in a bird, she involuntarily commenced laughing. The parrot, seeing this, redoubled his efforts: drawing a mark in front of him with his claw, he continued his tricks, and gave unmistakeable signs of his knowledge of the state of affairs between her and the man beside her, to whom he pointed from time to time. The brahmin, observing that the princess had laughed, thus addressed the parrot:—"Oh, beautiful, lovely, and knowing bird! may I now solicit of you a parti- cular favour? I would you could be persuaded to relate to us one of the many amusing and pleasant stories which are doubtless stored in your little head, from the recounting of which the princess may derive both instruction and amuse- ment, while I shall equally profit by it." The parrot replied, "I should consider it to be the height of presump- tion were I to attempt to do so at your desire, and without the express sanction of my mistress. I must therefore address myself first to the lady. I pray, madam," said the parrot, addressing the princess, "that you will be pleased D

62 to grant your visitor the satisfaction he solicits, by permit- ting me to commence the story." The princess paid no attention to this, but continued silent. The bird, seeing how taciturn she had all of a sudden become, and knowing the cause, continued his supplication, saying, "I beseech you, oh, goddess! my adored angel, and most kind hostess! would that it were possible for me to express in adequate terms my feelings of joy on beholding you! I have seen and do see daily, during my perambulations, vast numbers of handsome women, acknowledged beauties, but never have my eyes beheld such heavenly charms concentrated in one single individual as I have now the inexpressible joy of paying homage to; indeed, I am so overcome with feelings of delight, that I can scarce be said to be in possession of my senses. Permit me, fair lady, to relate a truly inter- esting story, abounding in wit and mirth. Cast your eyes upon me, and allow me to proceed; it will afford much pleasure to the brahmin beside you, and no less to yourself. Your impenetrable silence affects me much, good mistress. I cannot form an idea as to the cause of the melancholy with which you appear to be overwhelmed, and which seems to have almost struck you dumb." The princess was seated in sullen silence, with her eyes fixed, and gazing intently on vacancy, and would neither bestow a single glance upon the parrot nor utter a word of encouragement to him. Amongst the numerous slaves and others surrounding the princess, was one who observed the efforts of the bird to attract her attention, and pitied his failure. She ventured to entreat her mistress that the parrot might be allowed to proceed with his story, and that she would deign to sanction it, as there was doubtless much pleasure to be derived from it. This being a favorite domestic of the princess, she obtained a hearing, and the princess was prevailed upon, though with much evident reluctance, to break silence. She ordered the parrot to proceed with his story. On receiving the order, the bird seemed transported with joy, and instantly set about relating his tale.

63 "In the great and flourishing town of Bhadravutty," said he, "there reigned once a just and noble king named Bhu- drasain. He was held in great repute for his virtues, and was endowed with qualities that rendered him deservedly esteemed by his subjects and all who knew him. It is therefore not to be wondered at that his kingdom was in profound peace, and the people contented and happy. They worshipped God according to their respective forms of religion, without let or hindrance, as this prince made it a point never to interfere with the consciences of his subjects, but to allow them to remain free and unshackled. In a word, they were mutually happy and free, both the sovereign and his subjects. Providence had in its liberality showered its choicest blessings upon this monarch, and there was but one drawback to the otherwise perfect bliss that he might be said to enjoy : this was nothing less than the want of a son to bear the weight of his crown and wield his sceptre during his declining years. The monarch was at this period advanced in years, though not to that extent when the hope of an issue is generally said to be lost. He was therefore very anxious to have the pleasure of seeing one of his line seated on the throne, ere he closed his earthly career. It was his constant practice to beseech heaven to grant his request, and no amount of charity was grudged in order to propitiate the gods, and to secure the prayers of the holy men to this end. One day, the king being seated in the audience hall, surrounded by his ministers and others, his mind still occupied with the paramount wish of his heart, a hermit called Soodew* arrived from the remote city of Dwarka. His form and person were far from prepossess- ing : with a face pale and languid, eyes sunken, and grisly hair, he might have been taken for one of those beings who are said to spend the best part of their lives in deserts, far from the habitations of man. But he was a sage, profoundly skilled in the sciences, and in all the branches of useful

• This hermit would seem to be the same who taught King Vick- ramadeten the art of transmigration. D

64

knowledge; he was also learned in divine law. When he presented himself at court, the king, perceiving him, hastily descended from his throne, and prostrating himself before the withered creature, besought him to take his place on the throne, which, from the well-known qualities he possessed, the king said, he was most fitted to adorn. The hermit consented, whereupon the king (according to the Hindoo practice) worshipped the holy man. He then dismissed the officials of his court, save a few belonging to his household, and sent for the queen, after having first introduced the hermit into the private apartments of his palace. The queen approached the hermit with the same respectful demeanour that the king had observed, and in like manner paid her obeisance at the hermit's feet. The king and queen, as may well be supposed, consulted the hermit chiefly on the subject uppermost in their hearts, and in all their intercourse paid a marked deference to the sage. The hermit, observ- ing the disinterested homage paid to him by them, bestowed his blessing upon both with great solemnity, and assured them they would speedily see their wish realised. The son that should be born to them would prove, he said, worthy of their exalted rank and position; his name would be handed down to distant ages for his brilliant conquests and many eminent virtues, and finally, he would enjoy long life, health, and happiness. After this, the time for their afternoon meal had arrived, and the hermit was invited to partake of every possible delicacy that the palace could afford. At the conclusion of this entertainment, the king perfumed the person of the hermit with choice scents, and entreated him, in the most affectionate and flattering terms, to give him some advice regarding the subject nearest his heart —that of obtaining male issue, to hand down his name and virtues to posterity. The hermit replied that such things were at the disposal of God alone, and that it was in the power of no man to give any advice by which such a consummation could be effected. The Divine Power above, he said, for reasons not known to us, often deprives us of this

65 pleasure and comfort, perhaps because we are not sufficiently obedient to his will, and that when we pray we fail to do so with humble reliance on Him. ‘How often,’ said he, ‘do we not, even in extreme cases, place our faith rather in man, when our dependence in all things, even to the smallest item, should be on God alone! Go,’ continued the hermit, ‘perform certain sacrifices, open your inmost soul to heaven, seek the divine aid in humble supplication, and entreat all devout men and brahmins to join you in your prayers, and you may move God to grant your request; there is no other means. To God alone must you apply.’ The king attended to all the hermit had said, and having assembled all the good and devout men in his realms, besought them to address their prayers to heaven for a prince to succeed him. The sacrifice ordered by the hermit was performed, and soon after the united prayers of the people and their sovereign were heard, and it pleased heaven in due time for the queen to prove with child. This event caused, not unreason- ably, universal joy in the kingdom, and the king and queen were in addition filled with so profound a feeling of gratitude that they testified it in more ways than one. Among others, the king gave a general invitation to all the devout men and priests to assemble together in his palace on a certain day, and there to partake of his bounty in a style of princely magnificence. He treated them with profuse liberality, bestowing on them rich and costly presents in gold, jewels, and apparel, and they departed, extolling in a loud voice the generosity of the monarch, and the many virtues that adorned him. Not satisfied with this, he set apart a large amount of money to be distributed amongst the poor of his dominions, which elicited from them repeated blessings on his head. To the hermit he gave many a costly gift, in proof of the high estimation in which he was held; and in a flow of gratitude threw himself at his feet, and blessed him for the kind sympathy he had manifested in his behalf. The hermit soon afterwards retired, fully convinced of the great- ness and power of the monarch, of which he had given him J

66 such undeniable proofs. The king, with a small retinue, accompanied him a short distance out of the city, as a mark of deference. At the expiration of the usual time, the queen was delivered of a son, to the inexpressible joy of the king, who ordered sugar to be distributed throughout the whole city, in token of his joy at the event, and celebrated the happy occasion for twelve successive days, with all the pomp, and pageantry that united wealth and power could command. The child was beautiful in the extreme, and, after consulting with the astrologers, who had calculated its nativity, the king gave it the name of Soorsain, and caused it to be trained up under the especial care and instruction of his royal parents, availing himself, when the child attained a proper age, of the services of competent instructors, who contributed to the education of the youthful prince in the different branches of study,—the arts, sciences, and everything requisite for him, who was ultimately to reign in those realms, to know. The prince showed great aptitude for learning, and, under the guidance of his able and experienced preceptors, he made rapid progress in his education. He was soon master of those branches which are preliminary to the acquisition of a high standard of knowledge. As he advanced in years, he advanced apace in knowledge, nor were his morals neglected. In due time, as his physical powers became developed, he applied himself with diligence and assiduity to the various manual exercises then in vogue. In archery he became proficient, and there were but few who could enter the lists against him. In person he was handsome, of middling stature, combining elegance and physical strength. He was graceful in his bearing, and winning in his manners, and though he displayed much of that haughtiness in his inter- course with men that a consciousness of superiority begets, yet it was so mild, and so naturally displayed, that it became him well, and added to rather than detracted from his worth and merit. He was, in short, loved by all who knew him, and was the light of his parents' eyes. Such then, was the son and heir of the equally loved and esteemed King Bhudrasain.

67 " It happened that as the prince advanced to manhood, he received a wound from one of Cupid's shafts : he became enamoured of a princess, daughter to a powerful monarch, whose beauty was the least of her perfections. He sued for her hand in due form, backed by the interest and power of his father and his own rare qualifications, and obtained it in marriage. The union was celebrated, under the most favorable auspices, in the city, and no expense was spared to give brilliancy and effect to the occasion. It was a joyous time when the marriage took place. The king invited his relatives as well as those of his son's wife, with numerous other guests, and entertained them for several days together in the most sumptuous manner; and when the festivities were ended, he sent them back loaded with presents. "One day, King Bhudrasain, accompanied by his son and a small retinue, set out on a sporting excursion. They went into an adjoining wood, and while there, Bhudrasain was suddenly seized with the desire of witnessing his son's skill in archery, for which he was much famed. He called his son, and made him acquainted with his wishes; he then detached a part of his retinue for the purpose of waiting upon him, and he himself followed in person. Having arrived in the centre of the wood, the king directed his son to aim at a certain part of the forest at a distance, where a small object, scarce visible to the naked eye, was pointed out. While yet conversing, a wild boar suddenly appeared from amidst a clump of bushes, and, rushing past the prince and his father, attacked one of their followers with great deter- mination and ferocity. The prince, acting on the impulse of the moment, with his usual bravery and dauntless courage, pursued the boar, in the hope of getting sufficiently near him to attack him with the short spear he carried in his hand. But the monster, seeing his pursuer, and conscious of danger, took to flight, and regained the shelter of a thickly-studded cover of trees, in the opposite direction. The prince still pursued the boar, and in the ardour of the chase forgot all personal danger. Keeping his eye steadily

68 fixed in the direction the boar had taken, he continued to follow him, and left his father and all the followers far behind him. The difficult road over which the prince pursued the boar rendered it impossible for him to come up to his victim as speedily as he could have wished ; he nevertheless kept up the chase, passing, as he went, over valleys and by the side of precipices, through rugged paths and dangerous defiles. The king and his followers were anxiously awaiting his return, while every moment he was widening the distance between them. The boar, after having gone some miles, ensconsed himself in a cave, the prince remaining trans- fixed to the spot with fatigue and vexation. It pained him to think that all his efforts had proved fruitless for the capture of the forest denizen ; and what mortified him still more was, that it would go, far to convey an unfavorable opinion of his skill in archery and in the use of arms to the mind of his father, to please whom was the chief desire of his heart. However, he thought of retracing his steps back and relating all the occurrence to the king, but he found that he was quite fatigued by the exertions he had made, and his horse still more so ; added to which he felt a burning thirst and a sensation of weakness which rendered him quite incapable of moving a step in obedience to his wish. In this state the clouds of night found him listlessly leaning against a tree. As the darkness thickened around him he became fully sonsible of his condition, and the danger he was exposing himself to by remaining in that lonely and desolate place, perhaps to become a prey to the wild animals infesting the locality ; so he strove to mount his horse, and succeeded in gaining his seat, but as he was suffering very severely from thirst, his first object was to go in search of water. Having roamed about for some time, he happened to reach the inviting banks of a lake of great extent, clear as crystal, with a variety of trees uniformly placed at a convenient distance from each other, and forming a delight- ful arbour, cool and refreshing to travellers and others who sought their friendly shade. The prince, as may well be

69 imagined, was transported with joy on seeing the lake; he alighted from his horse with great alacrity, but ere he quenched his own thirst he led his noble steed, who had borne by far the greater part of the fatigues of the day, into the lake. He then secured him to a tree, and approached the margin of the water, where, by repeated draughts of the liquid element, he satisfied his burning thirst. The water deities, observing his hands submerged in the water, took hold of them, and immediately conveyed him to their stately abode at the bottom. “The king, his father, having in vain waited in painful suspense for the reappearance of his son from the woods in which he had lost sight of him, at length grew fearful that some unforeseen accident had occurred; he therefore, with his officers and servants, explored all the surrounding caves, bushes, and hollows, in hope of discovering the prince, but all to no purpose: they were, after a long and fruitless search, growing very apprehensive lest some accident had deprived the youth of his life. They still continued their search, however, and at last came upon the prince's horse, which he had left tied to a tree when he approached the lake to quench his thirst. They went up to the horse, and found him tied; this so added to their grief that they were completely overwhelmed, and plunged into the most painful solicitude at not discovering the slightest trace of the young prince. Some of the followers, alarmed at the dreadful agitation evinced by the king, and thinking the prince might have been drowned in the lake, proposed to dive into it and bring up the body. They were perfect adepts in diving, but, notwithstanding all their exertions, not the slightest trace of the lost prince could be found. Long and painful was the suspense in which the now miserable and, as he thought, bereaved father and his followers remained. Various conjectures were formed of the probable mischance which had deprived them of their beloved and only prince, and the king of his heir and successor to the throne, procured by such an amount of prayer and devotion. Some said

70 that he had been devoured by wild beasts while traversing the forest; others that he had been carried away by the fairies, for his rare beauty and perfection; and others, again, that he had most assuredly been drowned in the lake before them. In the midst of so much confusion and uncertainty as to the fate of the prince, the king, overcome by his affection for his son, began in the most piteous manner to smite his head and breast, and to throw himself on the ground, weeping bitter tears, and lamenting his loss in terms of the most piercing anguish. ‘Oh, what a dire calamity is this which has befallen me!’ said he; ‘he in whom all my hopes were centred is suddenly torn away, and I am left lonely and desolate in the midst of riches and splendour. Alas! how have I deserved such a fate! May not my subjects think that I hated to see my successor during my lifetime, and therefore brought him to this desert to rid myself of him by foul means? And yet, oh, my God! thou knowest the sad and desolate state of my heart!’ In this way he continued for some time, and having worked himself up to a state of frenzy by continually dwelling on his lost child, he unsheathed his sword, and meditated putting an end to his miserable existence with his own hand. The minister, observing this movement on the part of the king, fortunately arrived at his side in time to prevent the dreadful purpose, and, in a soothing tone, addressed the king thus:—‘My lord and king, what would you do? Consider, I entreat you, the power of the Almighty Being who at your request granted you this son. He can, if He choose, restore him to you again. It is not for us, poor finite beings, the creatures of a day, to arraign the wise decrees of the great Ruler. If, as we have but too great a reason to believe, and which we all equally with yourself deeply lament, your son is by some mystery or unaccountable accident summoned away from this life and all its brief and transitory pleasures, let us hope he is now in a place of happiness. Remember that we have had innumerable instances of every living creature being under the influence of some peculiar fate. As the

71 loss you now deplore cannot be remedied, and could not possibly have been averted by any human agency, let me entreat you to call your powerful reason to your aid, and console yourself with the blessings that are still left to you.' 'I am fully sensible,' replied the king, 'and thoroughly aware of the truth of what you adduce, and the sincerity with which you put it to me. Your deep sympathy in my sad bereavement is also not unknown to me; but, alas! how can I have offended God to such a degree as to merit so severe a mark of his displeasure? You know not the intensity of my feelings; you cannot in any manner conceive the keenness of my sufferings. They are great—very great! I do not know that I have ever deprived the labourer of his wages, or injured any one by injustice. I have always sought to relieve the distresses of my fellow-creatures, to comfort the afflicted, and to succour the helpless and needy. All this have I done, and more; and yet, oh, my God! I am visited with this greatest of all afflictions—the loss of him I had reckoned upon as the prop of my declining years! It is more than man can bear. I know I must sink under it, for my heart is broken!' His feelings here found vent in a flow of bitter scalding tears. Shortly after, deeming it useless to proceed any further in search of the prince, as they had but too many proofs, as they thought, of his untimely death, they mounted their horses, the king, from sheer weakness, having to be supported on his, and returned to the city. When the queen and the prince's wife were made acquainted with the melancholy news, they were so affected by it that for a while they found a temporary refuge from grief in insensibility. Returning animation only made them feel the more acutely. They in turn set up a most woeful lamentation, beating their breasts and smiting their faces, with every other demonstration of uncontrollable grief, and their cries resounded throughout the palace. The king, after spending some time in sad reflection, called to him an aged slave or nurse, an attendant in the apartments of the queen, and desired her

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to bestow every possible care on the princess, the sweet relict of him whom he mourned,—to afford her all the assistance she stood in need of, to calm the violence of her grief, and above all, not to lose sight of her on any account. “ One day the widowed princess, having arrived at the age of puberty, took a bath, and was proceeding through one of the corridors of the palace to an upper apartment, to dry her hair in the rays of the sun, when she overheard an able astrologer, named Dhanoo Patuckh, saying to his son, who dwelt close to her mansion, ‘ Oh my son ! you will confer on me a great favour, and much oblige me, if you will not as usual go to that strange woman, but remain at home and share your bed with your true and lawful wife; for it is predicted, by an auspicious omen in the science of astrology, that if a man have sexual intercourse with his wife at the hour of midnight, and she become pregnant of a son, that this son will become a great and excellent king, and possess many estimable qualities and much energy of purpose.’ But the astrologer’s son turned a deaf ear to all his father had told him, and continued leading a debauched life. On hearing the advice given by the astrologer to his son, the princess felt much the loss of her husband. Throughout the whole of that day she was ruminating on her sad condition ; and, what with grief for the loss of a husband she dearly loved, and the other attendant considera- tions, she found it impossible to rest that night when she retired to bed. She rose, after in vain trying to sleep, and paced up and down the room, in a state of feverish anxiety for something she could not well define. At last she involuntarily took hold of a vessel filled with water, and having poured some into the palm of her hand, said, ‘ What bitter cause have I not to curse the author of so much injury to me,—he who was instrumental in killing my husband, or depriving me of him, however that might have been done !’ The water deities at this moment made their appearance before the princess, whom they found just as we have described, with the water in her palm and her

73 countenance expressing execration of the deed the conse- quences of which she had to deplore. The deities appeared, as we said, before the princess, and one among them addressed her as follows :—' My dear princess ! stay, stay awhile, and we will tell you." She paused involuntarily, and was struck with wonder as she observed the beauty which these deities displayed, and at their sudden and unexpected appearance in the privacy of her apartment at that hour of the night. She however summoned sufficient courage to enquire of them the purport of their visit. ' I suppose,' said she, ' you are in possession of my husband. There has been to-day a favourable prediction revealed to me,—that if I enjoy his person to-night, I shall bear a son who will possess extra- ordinary merit. Hearing this, I was about to curse those who kept my husband from me or killed him.' The deities said, ' We beg to offer you our services in recovering your husband, if you will promise to send him back to us after the accomplishment of your present desires.' Upon hearing this the princess was much overjoyed, and, without giving the proposition a single thought beyond the hope of speedily recovering him she loved, though he was eventually to be lost to her for ever, replied, ' Here do I give you my faithful promise that as soon as I shall have realised what I have just been telling you, I will return my husband to you. Believe me, I will not forfeit my word, which is as dear to me as anything can well be.' The deities were satisfied, and immediately, by some agency peculiar to themselves, introduced the long-lost prince into the apartment, they themselves disappearing at the same instant. As soon as the princess beheld the prince before her, full of life and health, she rushed into his arms, and he affectionately embraced her ; they then retired for the night. At early dawn the deities presented themselves as before in the apartment, and claimed the fulfilment of the promise made by the princess the previous night,—to make over her husband to them, as had been then agreed upon on both sides. She had no alternative but to comply, and she K