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

85 child may have fallen, may the same care be bestowed on him as I will bestow on this involuntary intruder.' Saying this, she took up the infant lying beside her in her arms, and kissed her, naming her Soomutty.

86 CHAPTER VI. Veytal concludes his narration, and disappears. " WHEN the king heard the joyful intelligence of a son being born to him, he ordered it to be proclaimed, not only throughout the court and its environs, but all over the coun- try. He also ordered that a distribution of sugar-candy should be made to his subjects, a variety of alms given to the poor and indigent, and splendid and gorgeous presents to his officers. On the thirteenth day after the birth of the prince, he gave him the name of Bulsain ; and when he had arrived at a proper age he caused him to be educated and instructed in all the useful sciences and every other requisition for a prince, thus enabling him to uphold the dignity of his elevated rank, and to work his way safely through the trammels of court intrigue and court obser- vances. At the age of twelve years, he became so completely qualified to reign, that his father abdicated the throne in his favour, and his elevation was received with unani- mous acclamation. Shortly after this occurrence, the aged monarch, finding that the infirmities of age and their attendant inconveniences were fast creeping upon him, took an affectionate leave of his son, and directed his steps towards a place dedicated to religion, in order to devote his remaining years to works of piety and charity. Previous to the abdication of his throne, and divesting himself of the trammels of royalty, he left plain and positive injunctions with his prime minister, diligently and impartially to discharge the onerous and important duties over which he was now called upon to exercise his care and experience. The prince only nominally held the reins of government. The affairs of state during the regency devolved upon the minister, who displayed such surprising talent and skill on

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all subjects, as effectually, within a short time, to win the affection and esteem of every class. The young and accom- plished prince, meanwhile, passed his days in prosperity, content, and happiness. As in the days of the old monarchs, the actress who has figured in these pages was a frequent visitor at court, where, by her talent in singing, she estab- lished a sort of influence over the young king, who bestowed on her the highest encomiums. One day, the actress presented herself at court with the princess, whom she kept at a distance watching her shoes, which she left behind at the outer door. The prince, seeing the lovely being before him, (who was no other than his own mother, as our readers will recollect,) was, as it were, struck by her charms, and took a great interest in her. He was desirous of obtaining some knowledge of her, and with that view addressed himself to the actress. The prince was very minute in his inquiries, as may be imagined, regarding one who had in so forcible a manner gained his affections at first sight, and whose beauty was beyond description. The wicked actress said she belonged to her, and with an atrocity unknown in the most barbarous ages, proposed that if his majesty selected her for his choice, she would answer for the slave's (as she was pleased to call her) submission. ‘Your majesty,’ continued the actress, ‘need only come to my dwelling to have your wishes fulfilled in this respect.’ The prince having signified to her his intention of paying her a visit at the first opportunity, the actress left the palace, and retired to her lodgings, where she strove by every artifice to make the unfortunate woman in her power receive the youthful king with favor. After making known the intention of the king, she proceeded as follows:—‘I would advise you to be ready, neatly attired, and receive him with all due respect; and I doubt not you will in the end find it to your advantage.’ ‘I do not and cannot possibly feel any pleasure in the expected visit,’ said the now humble princess,—really a princess still, which title she cannot be said by any means to have forfeited as yet,—‘nor do I feel

88 the least sentiment of regard for the king, from the repre- sentations you have made to me of him. I am contented to remain in my present condition ; and, having passed all the time I have been in this country in your service, I hope you will not give me the pain of speaking ill of you, which your present conduct, in insulting me by such impious and wicked proposals, will lead me to. There is, permit me to say, great and daring impiety in proposing to me what you do ; and you will pardon me if I refuse to hear anything more you can advance on such an odious subject, which can only have the painful effect of renewing my griefs.' For a time the actress was silenced ; having, however, made everything ready for the occasion of the king's reception, she returned to the attack. ‘If you will not,’ said she, ‘cheerfully and at once comply with my instructions, I will compel you to accept the king’s proposals, as he has declared that you are the choice and object of his desires, and he is not likely to consent to be thwarted in them.’ The unfortunate victim of this ruthless persecution in vain tried to dissuade the actress from her vile purpose. At last, finding it of no avail to argue with her on the enormity of the crime she meditated, she resolved to let things take their course, fully determined never on any account to prostitute her person. She even thought of endeavouring to excite the king’s com- passion by appealing to his generosity, and by representing to him that a son whom she mourned was of the same age as himself, which she thought might induce him to look upon her in the light of a mother. As this idea crossed her mind, she felt a yearning of the heart towards this youthful king, such as mothers alone can feel ; and a faint whisper within her told her that it might be—that it was her long- lost son ! The age, the mien, and the resemblance to her husband, all tended to confirm her suspicions. ‘I will, at all events, relate the circumstance to him,’ thought she, ‘and thus see if he is worthy of such a noble father and so chaste a mother.’ This idea made her, instead of wishing him away, long for his arrival. She accordingly went up

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to her calculating mistress, as we must no doubt call her, and expressed her willingness to receive the king. The actress became quite enraptured at the turn affairs had taken, and lavished her praise profusely on the princess, who was now little better than—in fact was, her slave. “ The king spent the day, as usual, in the affairs of his state, and at night he set out with a choice retinue for the house of the actress, picturing to himself how much he would enjoy the society and person of the dazzling object of his sudden affection. He had not, however, gone many steps, when he heard the unwelcome chirping of the bird Pingla, which boded disappointment. That was a supersti- tious time, and the king himself was not exempt from a belief in such omens. He was therefore much annoyed at this opposition, and, instead of proceeding onwards, returned to the palace to consult his astrologers. He called one of the best among them, and acquainted him with the private mission on which he had been bent, and the sign he had received. The astrologer's reply was to the effect that in a person of his rank and position so flagrant an act of injustice and crime as he contemplated would not be per- mitted. The king, on hearing this, put off the visit until the following night, and retired to rest in great dudgeon. “ The actress in the mean while had prepared everything, fully expecting that the king would honor her with a visit that night, but she was doomed to be disappointed. She kept looking out of the windows of her dwelling continually, and thus remained until the night was far advanced, when, finding that there was no longer any likelihood of the king's appearance, she thought he had perhaps only declared his intention with a view to make fun of her, at which she was greatly grieved. She at length retired for the night, not to sleep, however, for she was too much agitated in her mind, but to devise means to bring about her wishes. As soon as the morning dawned she was up and dressed, ready to proceed to the palace, to ascertain if possible the cause of the disappointment she had experienced the previous night. On M

90 appearing before the king, and after the usual ceremonials, she ventured to touch upon the subject. The king affected much sorrow at having disappointed her, but said it was owing solely to the pressure of business involved in his kingly office,—that he would allow nothing to impede him that night, and that she might therefore fully expect him. She left the palace, quite satisfied with the explanation that had been vouchsafed to her, in the strongest hope of seeing ' the king in her house that night, and of gaining his coun- tenance and friendship, which was essential, she thought, to her future aggrandisement. At night the king, with an increased flow of spirits, directed his steps, with the same select retinue that had attended him the previous night, to the abode of the wily actress, but, to his great astonish- ment and utter dismay, he met with the same obstruction to his advance as on the former occasion. He therefore had to go back to the palace again, and defer the realisation of his wishes until another and more propitious occasion. “The actress, as before, awaited the coming of the king in anxious expectation. She re-arranged her rooms, and prepared everything for his reception, but again was she disappointed. She was outrageously angry at this second trick played upon her, as she thought, and was more rest- less than ever that night. However, as it was a mighty king she had to do with, she thought it would be neither wise nor discreet in her to vent her rage, or even by any means to let the king perceive it; so she dressed herself as usual, bestowing more than ordinary care on her toilette, and, putting on one of her deceptive guises, though all was a turbulent chaos within, proceeded to the court. When she was ushered into the private apartment of the king, where she invariably obtained an audience, she thus addressed him, ‘Your majesty is well aware that your subjects generally are not addicted to uttering falsehoods ; but if the king, who is considered to be just in all his dealings, commits this offence, no one dare interrogate him as to its justice or otherwise, even if it could be possibly justifiable,

91 which I am far from thinking it can be. The public credit, however, will be lost, whatever semblance of it may be preserved in the presence of power and authority.' The king was in a good humour, and she took advantage of it. He smiled at her freedom of speech, and in the most complacent manner replied, 'Do not be vexed; compose yourself and go home. I will positively be with you this night.' The actress retired, and as evening drew on, the king again, after the labours of the day, bent his steps towards the actress' house. On his way his mind was occupied with nothing but the pleasurable moments he should enjoy with the handsome creature he was about to visit, whom he never for a moment suspected to be his mother. As he was thus wending his way, regardless of all external objects, he trod accidentally on the tail of a calf that was lying in his way, who, on being hurt, set up a roaring noise. The mother, who was hard by, was alarmed at the cry, and said fiercely, in articulate sounds, 'Silence, my child! the hurt you have now received proceeds from the indifference produced by the intoxicating passion of lust. The king, with blind fatality, and overcome by an inhuman passion, is thus rushing on his own destruction: he is now going to meet his own mother, with unworthy and criminal intentions! Is it to be wondered at, then, that he should in this mad adventure be regardless of those he may injure in his wild precipitancy?' The king trembled like an aspen on hearing these words proceed from a dumb animal. He pondered long on their import. 'During the last two days,' thought he 'I found the bird Pingla obstruct- ing my way with its discordant chirpings, and to-day has happened what is in itself a miracle—a dumb animal speaking! Surely there must be some mystery involved in all this!' He for a moment suspended, by an herculean effort, all the workings of his passionate heart, and was gradually led into thinking in the light of a mother of the woman he was going to meet, as the cow had in a most convincing manner pronounced her to be. He was deter-

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mined now, more than ever, to go and see her, and inquire into her history ; so he kept on his course until he arrived at the house of the actress, who was in readiness to receive him, and to conduct him to the room which had been prepared expressly for his majesty. The princess, or, to be more exact, the king's mother, from a conscious rectitude of purpose, and from the previous argument she had entered into with herself, neither dreaded the actress nor yet the approaching meeting. She waited in an apartment ready to receive the king, seated on a couch of downy softness, and had her room-door bolted to prevent unauthorised intrusion. As soon as the king entered the house, which displayed all the riches of the actress, he was received with every demonstration of joy and respect due to him ; but, as may well be supposed, the serious turn the king's mind had taken. prevented his bestowing anything like the appro- bation the actress had been led to expect from his previous conduct. He merely said to her, in rather a stern voice, ' Where is your beautiful and interesting attendant ?' upon which she ushered him into the interior of the house, and to the door of the princess' apartment, which they found fastened. The prince, then, without a moment's hesita- tion, cried out, ' Oh, mother—my dear and accomplished mother !—open the door ; I am impatient to know and to speak to you, and have come to ascertain your history. I assure you I have not come, as you have been led to sup- pose, with any unworthy intentions.' At these words, so contrary to what she had expected, the actress was much surprised, and a trembling suddenly came upon her, but she dared not give way to her feelings in the presence of the king. The princess, or attendant, as she was commonly called, now giving thanks to God for the change in her position, and for the proof, as it were, of the prediction of the astrologer, rose from her seat and instantly opened the door to admit her son,—for that the king was her son she was now thoroughly convinced. ' The king, on entering, with great respect in his manner

93 seated himself beside the handsome attendant, and thus began : ‘ Be so kind as to relate to me your history—who you are, and your reasons for lodging in the house of this disreputable person. Are you a princess ? Tell me, I beseech you !’ She sighed, and for a time was bathed in tears. When she had regained her speech, she addressed the king as follows :—‘ Oh, king ! I will now lay my unfor- tunate case before you. I am the daughter of a certain king, and married the Prince Soorsain, son of King Bhu- drasain, of the city of Bhadravutty. My husband one day, being engaged in the pleasure of the chase in an adjoining wood; became thirsty, and went to a certain lake in order to quench his thirst : while engaged in drawing the water with his hands, the water deities took hold of him by the hand and carried him to their abode, and he is now with them. While deploring the loss of my husband, I happened to overhear a prediction by the famous astrologer Dhanoo, whereupon I was on the point of cursing those who with- held my husband from me, or who had slain him, not knowing at the time his exact fate, or what had become of him. On this the deities suddenly made their appearance in my apartment, and desired me to stop my malediction, saying they would restore my husband to me for that night, under the strict injunction, in support of which they extracted an oath from me, that I should send him back to them the next morning. In the morning they appeared and took him away in their train.’ She then related the particulars of the treatment she had received from her father-in-law, how she came into that city and became an attendant on the actress, together with every subsequent occurrence. Comparing this tale with what he had heard from the cow on his way, the king was fully convinced that the person before him was no other than his mother. He became so affected at this that he mingled his tears with those shed by the unfortunate princess. The king turned to the actress, who was present all the time, and who stood as one rooted to the spot, and inquired, ‘ Do you know

'94 where I was born?' She started, turned pale, and in an incoherent manner replied, 'I know your ma—a—jes—ty was born in the fa—mi—ly of the king whose crown you now wear.' The king threatened that if she did not speak the truth he would punish her in the way which he should deem most advisable. She exhibited the utmost trepidation at these words, and replied, 'Your majesty wishes to know the truth;—indeed I am acquainted with nothing more than what I have already said on the subject; but the midwife who attended at your majesty's birth will doubtless be able to supply you with further particulars.' The king immediately sent for the midwife, and questioned her. 'Tell me,' said he, 'as you value your life, where was I born? If you prevaricate, or tell any untruths, I will cut off your nose and ears! Consider then well what you are about to say.' The midwife, from her first entrance into the presence of the young sovereign, trembled violently, and the perspiration oozed out from every pore of her body to such an extent as well nigh to render it impossible for her to stand from sheer weakness. For a time she could not find utterance; but when at length sufficiently recovered, she said, 'I will obey your majesty's commands, by relating the whole truth; but you must deign to pass your royal word that no evil shall befal me if in the course of the relation I should confess myself to have been guilty of gross miscon- duct.' The king, in his anxiety to get at the truth, gave the promise. The midwife then related the whole of the transaction regarding the exchange of the children which we have already recorded. Having done so, she prostrated herself before the now enraged monarch, and notwithstand- ing the promise of pardon that had been extended to her, besought him for the love of heaven to forgive the part she had taken in the dishonest act, being induced thereto, she said, by the earnest entreaty of the queen. She implored his clemency, not only for herself, but for all concerned in the nefarious business. The princess, who had been all the time an attentive listener to the tale that had been unfolded

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by the midwife, now burst into tears, her supposed daughter joining her, and the king himself was so moved as to catch the infection. The young king and his mother could not but trace the hand of Providence throughout the mazes of the painful story thus unfolded before them, and they blessed and thanked the Almighty for his goodness in enabling them to elicit the truth. The princess, giving way to her feelings, affectionately embraced the king, and kissed him a thousand times, her demonstrations of affection being as tenderly returned ; and though they were both bathed in torrents of tears, yet were they tears of joy. After a short stay in the house, which was spent in mutual inquiries and explanations, and in the interchange of those expressions of solicitude and love, the full depth of which those similarly placed can alone be said to understand, the king ordered his state palanquins to be brought for his mother and the young princess who had so long supplied the place of a child to her. When the princess, after years of misery and privation, found herself with her son and helpmate, if we may so call her adopted child, in the palace together, her joy became boundless; words cannot do justice to that which every look, every movement, and every attitude displayed. She was happy—supremely happy !—the only thing that helped, perhaps, to cast a cloud on the sunshine that now shone over all, was the absence of her dear lord and husband; and even in such moments she might be said to find consolation, for she knew that he was well in health, and in perfect safety. " Next morning, the king called his minister, and without at all acquainting him with his intentions, directed him to assume the reins of government during an absence which he contemplated. He said he trusted to his integrity and ability, for which he was deservedly famed. In all his decisions he directed him to be guided by the strictest impartiality, equity, and justice. He was going, he said, to settle an important affair, which would take at least a month. He also ordered that whatever preparations might

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be necessary for the journey should be made as speedily as possible. When all was ready, he, with his mother and sister, (for so we shall call them for brevity's sake,) and a small retinue, set out for the plain where his father Soorsain had been taken away by the water deities. When he came to the lake he gave directions for encamping there, and his pavilion and the tents of the retinue were immediately pitched on the banks ; after which the king called together a number of hermits, brahmins, and other devout persons, to whom, when they had all assembled, he stated the whole case, requesting at the same time their advice as to how he was to get his father Soorsain back from the abode of the water fairies. The brahmins proposed that certain offerings should be made to fire, close to the lake, for which purpose they caused a pit to be dug to hold the sacred embers. They then entered upon a profound meditation, each person being engaged in performing the respective part allotted to him. This lasted for nine days. In order to propitiate the deities, at the close of the sacrifice they set apart certain pure trees and clarified butter, which they burnt in the sacrificial fire ; but the deities not appearing particularly favorable to Prince Bulsain, he took a knife in his hand, and, after calling upon God, began to slice the flesh off his arms, and to cast it into the burning flames. The deities still seeming indifferent to his prayers, in a most humble manner, and after deep meditation, he appealed to the Almighty, and raised his hand to sever his head from his body ; but lo ! the deities instantly appeared in the sky, saying, ' Oh, prince ! ask what you will ; we can refuse you nothing, for we are pleased with your generous exploit.' The prince answered them, ' If you are pleased with me, give me King Soorsain, my honored father !' They immediately disappeared and released Soorsain, who coming suddenly from the lake, first embraced Bulsain, his son, and then prostrated himself at the feet of the pious men there assembled. The princess now suddenly emerged from among her attendants and waiting-women, and, after

97 embracing her husband, prostrated herself at his feet. The rejoicings at their reunion were universal. “After the sensation created by this event had some- what subsided, King Bulsain, with unexampled liberality, rewarded the devout persons there assembled with grants in land and money; and, having been sumptuously regaled, they set out to their respective abodes, after having bestowed their prayers and benedictions on the kingly donor. Shortly after, King Bulsain ordered the tents to be struck, and preparations made to commence their journey homeward. They began their march with every sign of joy, and with great military display. When they approached the city of Shewpoory, the minister, who had received notice of the advance of his royal master, went with the principal nobles of the court to receive him; and they entered the city amid loud shouts of welcome. Prince Soorsain, owing to the anxiety he had undergone, appeared but as the shadow of his former self, so that it can scarcely be wondered at that he showed the effects of it in his personal appearance. On this account it was resolved that, until he should have perfectly recovered his health and strength, he should take up his residence with his son, King Bulsain. “Some few months after, Prince Soorsain prepared to return to the city of Bhadravutty, having made his son acquainted with his intention. The latter immediately ordered preparations to be made on an extensive scale; and, when all was in readiness, Prince Soorsain set out with his wife and son. When they drew nigh to the capital, the officers of King Bhudrasain’s court became alarmed, and in great terror informed the king that King Bulsain’s army was approaching, apparently with hostile intent. ‘Knowing,’ said they, ‘that your majesty is not at the present time possessed of a sufficient force to repel the invaders, and that Prince Soorsain is deceased, King Bulsain has taken advantage of it. Now, we would advise your majesty to collect, with as little delay as possible, as many of your subjects as you can, in order to meet this formidable army.’ N

98 King Bhudrasain was astounded at the announcement of an invading army being in the outskirts of the town, and he knew from experience that no hastily-concerted measures could be of any use in repelling the attacks of a strong and disciplined foe. However, the minister had in the mean time collected a large number of men, and, with some few of the regular troops to back them, he determined to proceed, as he said, to meet the invading force, and ascertain the cause of their wanton aggression. He therefore appeared before the king, prostrated himself at the foot of the throne, and obtained the royal authority to go on his mission. " Prince Bulsain observing the army of his grandsire approaching in warlike array towards him, was convinced that the formidable appearance his men presented 'was the cause of some alarm in the country. He therefore directed a letter to be written, containing full particulars, and despatched it by a trusty messenger, praying that his majesty would recal his army, and be graciously pleased to favor his son Soorsain and his grandson Bulsain with an interview. The messenger to whom this letter was entrusted gallopped away in advance, and came up to King Bhudra- sain's minister, who was on his way with his force to meet the supposed enemy. The messenger desired to be presented without delay to the king his master, as he had a letter of great importance to deliver to him personally ; he also communicated to the minister verbally what the presence of the great army outside meant. The minister of Bhudra- sain was overjoyed, and he lost no time in directing an officer to conduct the bearer of the letter into the presence of the king, telling him not to lose a word of what his majesty might say. The officer and the messenger then proceeded together, and, after having traversed the city, they arrived at the magnificent palace of King Bhudrasain. He was seated in the council chamber, deeply engaged in discussing with his courtiers the reason of the sudden appearance of so formidable a force as he had been informed of. The messenger was immediately ushered into the king's

99 presence, and received with due respect. He presented the letter from King Bulsain, which King Bhudrasain proceeded carefully to read. When he came to the conclud- ing part, where his son's wife's sufferings were briefly related, he shed tears of repentance; nevertheless, he rejoiced that no serious injury had befallen her. He forgot all past grief in his present joy; so, rising with a radiant face, his eyes beaming with pleasure, he proceeded into the apartment of the queen, his wife,—who had barely got over the double grief, if we may so say, of the loss of her dear and only son and the perfidy of his wife,—and acquainted her with the joyful intelligence that had reached him. She was so much affected with the alternation from extreme sorrow to equal joy, that for a time she seemed stupified; at last she collected her scattered thoughts, and was, in some degree capable of appreciating the extent of her new-found happiness. The king, after communicating the intelligence to the queen, proceeded to meet his long-lost and providentially-restored offspring. On his approach, King Bulsain, his grandson, alighted to pay his devoirs to his grandsire, and they embraced each other affectionately. Then Prince Soorsain approached his father, and prostrated himself at the feet of the aged Bhudrasain. This was indeed a moment of the most exquisite pleasure to Bhudrasain;—to have for his offspring two of the handsomest and most accomplished princes that could be found in those days, caused him to weep with extacy. They then mounted their horses and returned to the city, where they were received with accla- mation by the populace. The king led his children to the palace, together with the princess his daughter-in-law and her adopted child, whose age, it will be remembered, corresponded with that of King Bulsain. The queen, now quite recovered from the sudden indisposition caused by the unexpected arrival of her children, made her appearance also among them, and might be seen, equally with the king, engaged in the mutual exchange of kind offices. Her daughter-in-law prostrated herself at her feet, and looked

' 100 up to her as if calling on her to recal those terms of oppro- brium she had cast upon this innocent victim of circumstantial evidence. ‘My dear and affectionate child,’ said the aged queen, ‘ I am sorry for what I in my passion, and under the fullest impression of your infidelity, launched on your innocent head. I am fully sensible of the wrong I have done you, but let me hope that my future conduct towards you will in some degree atone for it.’ ‘ Ah!’ said the princess, ‘ do not say so; all that befals us is decreed by an unerring Providence. Had you not caused me to be expelled the palace, I might probably have never been enabled to find means for the recovery of my lost husband : it is to you that I am indebted for this happiness. Say not, then, that you have wronged me. The happiness of this moment more than atones for any amount of privation I may have been put to, and the latter has been but very slight indeed, comparatively.’ The king and queen were highly pleased at this disposition on the part of the injured princess to forget the past : if it were possible, it raised her in their estimation in an unparalleled degree, and they embraced her, with contrition and tears of joy streaming down their furrowed cheeks. It was too great a happiness for them to regain their son, whom they had never expected to see again in this life, and at the same time to find his wife, whom it was now evident they had unjustly expelled the palace, placed beyond suspicion, with a fine young king the fruit of their union. King Bhudrasain, after this, ordered a banquet to be prepared in honour of the great event we have recorded,—the meeting together of this dispersed family,—and it was kept up with all the splendour of royalty. In a short time he also caused his son, Prince Soorsain, to be crowned in his stead, and invested with the royal dignity. “ The youthful Balsain, during this visit, became smitten with the charms of a neighbouring princess, and was soon after married. After some weeks spent in con- viviality, he took leave of his father and grandsire, and

101 returned to his own territory, loaded with presents and proofs of the estimation in which he was held by all. There, surrounded by everything that could render a monarch happy, and in the enjoyment of the blessings of peace, he continued to reign for a series of years, until he had run the course allotted to him here below.” The parrot, having finished the tale, leaped into an opening in the wall and disappeared, followed by the wondering gaze of all those assembled in the room, who had been, as may well be supposed, attentive listeners to the whole story. We must now refresh the memory of our readers, and ask them to go back with us to where we left King Vickra- madetea, in the guise of a brahmin, with the Princess Pudmavuntty. King Vickramadetea, it will be remembered, was engaged in negociating for the hand of Pudmavuntty on behalf of Prince Duntsain, and had in some degree succeeded. It only remained for him to get over the condition attached by the princess of her acquiescence with his project, which was to make her laugh and speak four different times successively ; and it was to effect this that Vickramadetea had called in the aid of the spirit Veytal, who, under the assumed form of a parrot, entered upon the tale just related. They were yet engaged in praising the parrot, who had helped them to wile away the heavy hours of night with his interesting story, and wondering at the unlooked-for depth of understanding and grasp of thought (if we may so say) displayed by this tiny creature, when a Shaloonky,* represented in a painting on the wall of the princess’ apartment, became animated, and took her seat upon a chowrung before them. Who this Shaloonky was, and the purport of her visit, shall form the subject of another chapter. * A bird, Gracula religiosa. 152486

102 CHAPTER VII. Veytal reappears, in the form of a bird called Shaloonky, and com- mences to relate the history of Queen Shoodhamutty, her son Soomunt, and the Princess Malattee. WHEN Veytal, as the parrot, had left the presence of Vickramadetea and the princess, he transformed himself into a Shaloonky, who, as we said at the conclusion of the last chapter, took up her place, to the wonder of the gaping assem- bly, on a chowrung. She remained there for some time, shaking her wings and attracting attention in a most singular manner. Vickramadetea observing this, and knowing well that the Shaloonky was no other, as has been already said, than the spirit Veytal, requested her to oblige the company with one of those very interesting tales which abounded alike in good sense and instruction. He said it would be very acceptable, and would prevent them from falling asleep during the remainder of the night. "The parrot has but just left us," said he, "after recounting one of those admirable stories, which caused the time to pass agreeably away. I hope you will not be less obliging." The Shaloonky replied, "Oh, my good brahmin! your mode of address inclines me to comply with your wish, but you must be aware that I cannot do so without the sanction of my mistress. I am her slave, and must receive my orders from her before I engage in anything." The princess remained silent, as before, and would not deign a reply. "Never mind the princess, your mistress," said Vickramadetea; "be good enough to proceed with your story; you will much oblige me by it." "I am aware of your anxiety to hear me, and I am equally disposed to gratify you, but you must excuse me if I refuse you the gratification unless I am warranted by the bidding of your hostess, my sovereign lady." The Shaloonky being appa-

103 rently determined not to proceed with her story without the express command of the princess, and curiosity being at its height among the attendants and slaves there assembled, they ventured to address the princess. "May it please you, good lady, to direct the Shaloonky to gratify our eagerness to hear her story. It will, we feel assured, afford us no small amount of pleasure and amusement, as we doubt not it will be an excellent one,—as good as, if not better than the one the parrot amused us with a while ago." The princess was still silent, but the Veytal, by the peculiar powers of which he was possessed, influenced her mind, when she laughed involuntarily and bade the Shaloonky commence her narrative. Whereupon, after having noticed that the princess both laughed and spoke at the same time, she began as follows :— "In the city of Kawnty there lived a king named Kashei- shwer, and his queen Shoodhamutty, with an only child called Soomunt. According to the usual course of events, after a long and peaceful reign, this king expired, full of years and honour. Shortly after this sad occurrence, one of the neighbouring princes, who had long had an eye upon the kingdom of the deceased monarch, invaded it with a powerful army. The queen fled with her infant, who was but ten years old, without casting a thought behind. Weighed down with grief for the loss of her husband, she could ill take the active measures that were needed on such an occasion : she left all in the hands of her subordinates. She feared lest the fortunes of war should place her and the heir to the throne in the hands of their enemy, who might be induced to remove her dear child by some foul means, thus to put an end to all future contentions. She had not proceeded far when news reached her of the success of the invasion, and she thanked heaven that she with her child had escaped the unscrupulous enemy. Her patience was sorely tried by the hardships and privations she had to endure during her journey. Without any fixed placed to

104 go to, without the means of supplying herself and the infant with nourishment, and, more than all, without any apparent means of regaining her dominions and avenging the injury offered to her, she was indeed wretched in the extreme. Still, onward she went, remedying as much as in her lay these great evils, though, indeed, such remedies cannot be said to have by any means brought her the slightest relief. For a time she subsisted by parting one by one with the ornaments and jewels she had on when she fled from the palace : when these were all gone, alas ! her condition was miserable indeed. How many a day did, this fond mother deprive herself of food, that a sufficiency might be afforded her child ! But this could not last long ; nature would not permit it. Without food she must sink. She was in the very last stage of weakness : a feather's weight might have sealed her fate. The cravings of hunger she tried to appease by partaking of the wild fruits of the forest, and this but added to her sufferings. In this state, between hope (faint though it was) and despair, she thought of a brother she had, also a king, who was immensely rich and very power- ful. This idea, as it crossed her mind, cheered the dreari- ness with which she was enveloped, and raised her sinking heart. Towards him, therefore, she turned her steps. He was reigning in a city far from where she then was ; and the condition in which she arrived there may therefore be better conceived than described. No sooner did she present herself before the king her brother than he was struck dumb with the woeful picture of want and misery his sister presented. He received her with open arms, and soothed her grief with many words of consolation and the promise of seeing her righted, if possible. After hearing her rela- tion of all the sufferings she had undergone, and the cruel usage she had endured from the invader of her husband's dominions, he addressed her thus : ' Let me entreat you, dear sister, great as are the wrongs which have been heaped upon you, not to give way. Be assured that the Almighty never wills a thing without a good design. Though the