It is remarkable that there are no questions addressed by the Siddhi-kur to his captor. At the end of every story the Khan's son utters an involuntary, often meaningless exclamation, of which the Siddhi-kur takes advantage. (Oesterley's Baital Pachisi, pp. 174 and 175.)

Oesterley refers to an Arabian form of the 1st story in Scott's Tales, Anecdotes and Letters, 1800, p. 108. A painter falls in love with the picture of a beauty, and finds that the original is in the possession of a certain minister. He penetrates in disguise into the minister's harem, wounds his beloved in the hand and takes away her veil. He then goes in the disguise of a pilgrim to the king, and says that he has seen six witches, and that he has wounded one of them, who left her veil behind her. The veil is recognized, the owner produced, convicted by her veil, and as a witch flung into a chasm. There the painter finds her, rescues her and carries her off. See also the 1001 Nights, Breslau, 1, p. 245 (Oesterley's Baital Pachisi, pp. 182 and 183).

CHAPTER LXXVI.

(Vetala 2.)

Then king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree to fetch the Vetala. And when he arrived there, and looked about in the darkness by the help of the light of the funeral pyres, he saw the corpse lying on the ground groaning. Then the king took the corpse, with the Vetala in it, on his shoulder, and set out quickly and in silence to carry it to the appointed place. Then the Vetala again said to the king from his shoulder, "King, this trouble, into which you have fallen, is great and unsuitable to you; so I will tell you a tale to amuse you, listen."

Story of the three young Brahmans who restored a dead lady to life.

There is, on the banks of the river Yamuna, a district a.s.signed to Brahmans, named Brahmasthala. In it there lived a Brahman, named Agnisvamin, who had completely mastered the Vedas. To him there was born a very beautiful daughter named Mandaravati. Indeed, when Providence had created this maiden of novel and priceless beauty, he was disgusted with the nymphs of Heaven, his own previous handiwork. And when she grew up, there came there from Kanyakubja three young Brahmans, equally matched in all accomplishments. And each one of these demanded the maiden from her father for himself, and would sooner sacrifice his life than allow her to be given to another. But her father would not give her to any one of them, being afraid that, if he did so, he would cause the death of the others; so the damsel remained unmarried. And those three remained there day and night, with their eyes exclusively fixed on the moon of her countenance, as if they had taken upon themselves a vow to imitate the partridge. [284]

Then the maiden Mandaravati suddenly contracted a burning fever, which ended in her death. Then the young Brahmans, distracted with grief, carried her when dead, after she had been duly adorned, to the cemetery, and burnt her. And one of them built a hut there and made her ashes his bed, and remained there living on the alms he could get by begging. And the second took her bones and went with them to the Ganges, and the third became an ascetic and went travelling through foreign lands.

As the ascetic was roaming about, he reached a village named Vajraloka. And there he entered as a guest the house of a certain Brahman. And the Brahman received him courteously. So he sat down to eat; and in the meanwhile a child there began to cry. When, in spite of all efforts to quiet it, it would not stop, the mistress of the house fell into a pa.s.sion, and taking it up in her arms, threw it into the blazing fire. The moment the child was thrown in, as its body was soft, it was reduced to ashes. When the ascetic, who was a guest, saw this, his hair stood on end, and he exclaimed, "Alas! Alas! I have entered the house of a Brahman-demon. So I will not eat food here now, for such food would be sin in a visible material shape." When he said this, the householder said to him, "See the power of raising the dead to life inherent in a charm of mine, which is effectual as soon as recited." When he had said this, he took the book containing the charm and read it, and threw on to the ashes some dust, over which the charm had been recited. [285] That made the boy rise up alive, exactly as he was before. Then the mind of the Brahman ascetic was quieted, and he was able to take his meal there. And the master of the house put the book up on a bracket, and after taking food, went to bed at night, and so did the ascetic. But when the master of the house was asleep, the ascetic got up timidly, and took the book, with the desire of restoring his beloved to life.

And he left the house with the book, and travelling day and night at last reached the cemetery, where that beloved of his had been burnt. And at that moment he saw the second Brahman arrive there, who had gone to throw her bones into the river Ganges. And having also found the one who remained in the cemetery sleeping on her ashes, having built a hut over them, he said to the two, "Remove this hut, in order that by the power of a certain charm I may raise up my beloved alive from her ashes." Having earnestly solicited them to do this, and having overturned that hut, the Brahman ascetic opened the book, and read the charm. And after thus charming some dust, he threw it on the ashes, and that made Mandaravati rise up alive. And as she had entered the fire, she possessed, when resuscitated, a body that had come out of it more splendid than before, as if made of gold. [286]

When the three Brahmans saw her resuscitated in this form, they immediately became love-sick, and quarrelled with one another, each desiring her for himself. And the first said, "She is my wife, for she was won by the power of my charm." And the second said, "She belongs to me, for she was produced by the efficacy of sacred bathing-places." And the third said, "She is mine, for I preserved her ashes, and resuscitated her by asceticism."

"Now king, give judgment to decide their dispute; whose wife ought the maiden to be? If you know and do not say, your head shall fly in pieces."

When the king heard this from the Vetala, he said to him, "The one who restored her to life by a charm, though he endured hardship, must be considered her father, because he performed that office for her, and not her husband; and he who carried her bones to the Ganges is considered her son; but he, who out of love lay on her ashes, and so remained in the cemetery embracing her and practising asceticism, he is to be called her husband, for he acted like one in his deep affection." [287]

When the Vetala heard this from king Trivikramasena, who had broken silence by uttering it, he left his shoulder, and went back invisible to his own place. But the king, who was bent on forwarding the object of the mendicant, made up his mind to fetch him again, for men of firm resolution do not desist from accomplishing a task they have promised to perform, even though they lose their lives in the attempt.

NOTE.

Oesterley, in the notes to his German translation of the Baital Pachisi, refers to the Turkish Tutinamah in which the lady dies of despair at the difficulty of the choice, as in the Tamul version. [In the Hindi version she dies of snake-bite.] She is brought back to life by a good beating. The first suitor opens the grave, the second advises the use of the cudgel, the third carries it out.

This method of restoring people, who die suddenly, to life by a good beating, is found in a Persian story, professing to be derived from a book "Post nubila Phoebus," in which the physician bears the name of Kati, and a.s.serts that he learnt the method from an old Arab. The story is found in Epistolae Turcicae et Narrationes Persicae editae et Latine conversae a Joh. Ury. Oxonii, 1771, 4o, pp. 26 and 27. This collection, which contains not the least hint of its origin, is particularly interesting as it contains the VIIIth story of the Siddhikur; "The Painter and the Wood-carver." [See Sagas from the Far East, p. 97.] The Episode of the stealing of the magic book is found, quite separated from the context, in many MS. versions of the Gesta Romanorum: see Appendix to Oesterley's edition. (Oesterley's Baital Pachisi, pp. 183-185.)

CHAPTER LXXVII.

(Vetala 3.)

Then the heroic king Trivikramasena again went to the asoka-tree, to fetch the Vetala. And he found him there in the corpse, and again took him up on his shoulder, and began to return with him in silence. And as he was going along, the Vetala, who was on his back, said to him, "It is wonderful, king, that you are not cowed with this going backwards and forwards at night. So I will tell you another story to solace you, listen."

Story of the king, and the two wise birds.

There is on the earth a famous city named Pataliputra. In it there lived of old time a king named Vikramakesarin, whom Providence made a storehouse of virtues as well as of jewels. And he possessed a parrot of G.o.dlike intellect, knowing all the sastras, that had been born in that condition owing to a curse, and its name was Vidagdhachudamani. And the prince married as a wife, by the advice of the parrot, a princess of equal birth, of the royal family of Magadha, named Chandraprabha. That princess also possessed a similar hen-maina, of the name of Somika, remarkable for knowledge and discernment. And the two, the parrot and the maina, remained there in the same cage, a.s.sisting with their discernment their master and mistress.

One day the parrot became enamoured of the maina, and said to her, "Marry me, fair one, as we sleep, perch, and feed in the same cage." But the maina answered him, "I do not desire intimate union with a male, for all males are wicked and ungrateful." The parrot retorted, "It is not true that males are wicked, but females are wicked and cruel-hearted." And so a dispute arose between them. The two birds then made a bargain that, if the parrot won, he should have the maina for wife, and if the maina won, the parrot should be her slave, and they came before the prince to get a true judgment. The prince, who was in his father's judgment-hall, heard the point at issue between them, and then said to the maina, "Tell me, how are males ungrateful?" Then the maina said, "Listen," and in order to establish her contention, proceeded to relate this story ill.u.s.trating the faults of males.

The maina's story. [288]

There is on the earth a famous city, of the name of Kamandaki. In it there was a rich merchant, of the name of Arthadatta. And he had a son born to him, of the name of Dhanadatta. When his father died, the young man became dissipated. And rogues got round him, and plunged him in the love of gambling and other vices. In truth the society of the wicked is the root of the tree of vice. In a short time his wealth was exhausted by dissipation, and being ashamed of his poverty, he left his own country, to wander about in foreign lands.

And in the course of his travels, he reached a place named Chandanapura, and desiring food, he entered the house of a certain merchant. As fate would have it, the merchant, seeing that he was a handsome youth, asked him his descent and other things, and finding out that he was of good birth, entertained him, and adopted him as a protege. And he gave him his daughter Ratnavali, with a dower, and thenceforth Dhanadatta lived in his father-in-law's house.

And in the course of some days, he forgot in his present happiness his former misery, and having acquired wealth, and longing for fresh dissipation, he wished to go back to his own land. Then the rascal with difficulty wrung a permission from his unwilling father-in-law, whose daughter was his only child, and taking with him his wife, covered with ornaments, accompanied by an old woman, set out from that place, with a party of three in all. And in course of time he reached a distant wood, and on the plea that there was danger of robbers, he took those ornaments from his wife and got them into his own possession. Alas! Observe that the heart of ungrateful males, addicted to the hateful vices of dicing and drabbing, is as hard as a sword.

Then the villain, being determined to kill his wife, though she was virtuous, for the sake of her wealth, threw her and the old woman into a ravine. And after he had thrown them there, he went away. The old woman was killed, but his wife was caught in a ma.s.s of creepers and did not die. And she slowly climbed up out of the chasm, weeping bitterly, supporting herself by clinging to gra.s.s and creepers, for the appointed end of her life had not yet come. And asking her way, step by step, she arrived, by the road by which she came, at the house of her father, with difficulty, for her limbs were sorely bruised. When she arrived there suddenly, in this state, her mother and father questioned her eagerly. And the virtuous lady weeping told this tale, "We were robbed on the way by bandits, and my husband was dragged away bound; the old woman died, but I survived, though I fell into a ravine. Then I was dragged out of the ravine by a certain benevolent traveller, who came that way, and by the favour of destiny I have arrived here." When the good Ratnavali said this, her father and mother comforted her, and she remained there, thinking only of her husband.

And in course of time her husband Dhanadatta, who had gone back to his own country, and wasted that wealth in gambling, said to himself, "I will go and fetch more wealth, begging it from my father-in-law, and I will tell him that I have left his daughter in my house here." Thinking thus in his heart, he set out for that house of his father-in-law, and when he drew near, his wife beheld him from a distance, and she ran and fell at his feet, though he was a villain. For, though a husband is wicked, a good wife does not alter her feelings towards him. And when he was frightened, she told him all the fict.i.tious story she had previously told her parents about the robbery, her fall, and so on. Then he entered fearlessly with her the house of his father-in-law; and his father-in-law and mother-in-law, when they saw him, welcomed him joyfully. And his father-in-law called his friends together, and made a great feast on the occasion, exclaiming, "It is indeed a happy thing, that my son-in-law has been let go with life by the robbers." Then Dhanadatta lived happily with that wife of his Ratnavali, enjoying the wealth of his father-in-law. But, fie! what the cruel man did one night, though it should not be told for shame, must still for the story's sake be related. He killed his wife when asleep in his bosom, and took away all her ornaments, and then went away un.o.bserved to his own country.

"So wicked are males!" When the maina had said this, the king said to the parrot--"Now say your say."--Then the parrot said--"King, females are of intolerable audacity, immoral and wicked; hear a tale in proof of it."

The parrot's story. [289]

There is a city of the name of Harshavati, and in it there was a leading merchant named Dharmadatta, possessed of many crores. And that merchant had a daughter named Vasudatta, matchless in beauty, whom he loved more than his life. And she was given to an excellent young merchant named Samudradatta, equal to her in rank, distinguished for wealth and youth, who was an object that the eyes of lovely women loved to feast on, as the partridges on the rays of the moon, and who dwelt in the city of Tamralipti which is inhabited by honourable men. Once on a time, the merchant's daughter, while she was living in her father's house, and her husband was in his own country, saw at a distance a certain young and good-looking man. The fickle woman, deluded by Mara, [290] invited him by means of a confidante, and made him her secret paramour. And from that time forth she spent every night with him, and her affections were fixed upon him only.

But one day the husband of her youth returned from his own land, appearing to her parents like delight in bodily form. And on that day of rejoicing she was adorned, but she would have nothing to say to her husband in spite of her mother's injunctions, but when he spoke to her, she pretended to be asleep, as her heart was fixed on another. And then her husband, being drowsy with wine, and tired with his journey, was overpowered by sleep. In the meanwhile, as all the people of the house, having eaten and drunk, were fast asleep, a thief made a hole in the wall and entered their apartment. At that very moment the merchant's daughter rose up, without seeing the thief, and went out secretly, having made an a.s.signation with her lover. When the thief saw that, his object being frustrated, he said to himself, "She has gone out in the dead of night adorned with those very ornaments which I came here to steal; so I will watch where she goes." When the thief had formed this intention, he went out, and followed that merchant's daughter Vasudatta, keeping an eye on her, but himself un.o.bserved.

But she, with flowers and other things of the kind in her hands, went out, accompanied by a single confidante, who was in the secret, and entered a garden at no great distance outside the city.

And in it she saw her lover, who had come there to meet her, hanging dead on a tree, with a halter round his neck, for the city-guards had caught him there at night and hanged him, on the supposition that he was a thief. Then she was distracted and beside herself, and exclaiming, "I am ruined," she fell on the ground and lamented with plaintive cries. Then she took down her dead paramour from the tree, and placing him in a sitting position, she adorned him with unguents and flowers, and though he was senseless, embraced him, with mind blinded by pa.s.sion and grief. And when in her sorrow she raised up his mouth and kissed it, her dead paramour, being animated by a Vetala, suddenly bit off her nose. Then she left him in confusion and agony, but still the unfortunate woman came back once more, and looked at him to see if he was still alive. And when she saw that the Vetala had left his body, and that he was dead and motionless, she departed slowly, weeping with fear and humiliation.

In the meanwhile the thief, who was hidden there, saw all, and said to himself, "What is this that this wicked woman has done? Alas! the mind of females is terrible and black like a dark well, unfathomable, exceedingly deep for a fall. [291] So I wonder what she will do now." After these reflections, the thief again followed her at a distance, out of curiosity.

She went on and entered her own chamber, where her husband was asleep, and cried out weeping, "Help! Help! This wicked enemy, calling himself a husband, has cut off my nose, though I have done nothing wrong." Then her husband, and her father, and the servants, hearing her repeated cries, woke up, and arose in a state of excitement. Then her father, seeing that her nose had been recently taken off, was angry, and had her husband bound as having injured his wife. But even while he was being bound, he remained speechless, like a dumb man, and said nothing, for all the listeners, his father-in-law and the others, had altogether turned against him. [292]

When the thief had seen all this, he slipped away nimbly, and the night, which was spent in tumult, gradually pa.s.sed away, and then the merchant's son was taken by his father-in-law to the king, together with his wife who had been deprived of her nose. And the king, after he had been informed by them of the circ.u.mstances, ordered the execution of the young merchant, on the ground that he had maimed his own wife, rejecting with contempt his version of the story. Then, as he was being led to the place of execution, with drums beating, the thief came up to the king's officers and said to them, "You ought not to put this man to death without cause; I know the circ.u.mstances, take me to the king, that I may tell him the whole story." When the thief said this, they took him to the king, and after he had received a promise of pardon, he told him the whole history of the night from the beginning. And he said, "If your Majesty does not believe my words, look at once at the woman's nose, which is in the mouth of that corpse." When the king heard that, he sent servants to look, and finding that the statement was true, he gave orders that the young merchant should not suffer capital punishment. But he banished his wicked wife from the country, after cutting off her ears also, and punished his father-in-law by confiscating all his wealth, and being pleased with the thief, he made him chief magistrate of the city.

"So you see that females are naturally wicked and treacherous." When the parrot had told this tale, the curse imposed on him by Indra lost its force, and he became once more the Gandharva Chitraratha, and a.s.suming a celestial form, he went to heaven. And at the same moment the maina's curse came to an end, and she became the heavenly nymph Tilottama, and went at once to heaven. And so their dispute remained undecided in the judgment-hall.