Then the princess left her parents' presence, and immediately ascended in eager longing a jewelled terrace in the women's apartments, which had pillars of precious stone standing in it, and lattices of pearl fastened to them, and had placed on its pavement, of costly mosaic, luxurious couches and splendid thrones, and was rendered still more delightful by means of the various enjoyments which there presented themselves as soon as thought of. Even when there, she was exceedingly tortured with the fire of separation. And she saw from the top of this terrace a magnificent heavenly garden, planted with trees and creepers of gold, and full of hundreds of tanks adorned with costly stone. And when she saw it, she said to herself, "Wonderful! This splendid city of ours is more beautiful even than the world of the moon in which I was born. And yet I have not explored this city which is the very crest-jewel of the Himalayas, in which there is such a splendid suburban garden excelling Nandana. So I will go into this lovely shrubbery, cool with the shade of trees, and alleviate a little the scorching of the fires of separation."

After the young maiden had gone through these reflections, she dexterously managed to descend slowly from the terrace alone, and prepared to go to that city garden. And as she could not go on foot, she was carried there by some birds that were brought to her by her power, and served as her conveyance. When she reached the garden, she sat in an arbour formed of plantains growing together, on a carpet of flowers, with heavenly singing and music sounding in her ears. And even there she did not obtain relief, and her pa.s.sion did not abate; on the contrary, the fire of her love increased still more, as she was separated from her beloved.

Then in her longing she was eager to behold that loved one, though only in a picture, so by her magic power she summoned for herself a tablet for painting and colour-pencils. And she said to herself, "Considering even the Disposer is unable to create a second like my beloved, how can I, reed [696] in hand, produce a worthy likeness of him? Nevertheless, I will paint him as well as I can for my own consolation." After going through these reflections she proceeded to paint him on a tablet, and while she was thus engaged, her confidante Manoharika, who had been troubled at not seeing her, came to that place to look for her. She stood behind the princess, and saw her languishing alone in the bower of creepers, with her painting-tablet in her hand. She said to herself, "I will just see now what the princess is doing here alone." So the princess's confidante remained there concealed.

And then Padmavati, with her lotus-like eyes gushing with tears, began to address in the following words her beloved in the painting. "When thou didst slay the formidable Asuras and deliver Indra, how comes it that thou dost not deliver me from my woe, though near me, by speaking to me at any rate? To one whose merits in a former life are small, even a wishing-tree is ungenerous, even Buddha is wanting in compa.s.sion, and even gold becomes a stone. Thou knowest not the fever of love, and canst not comprehend my pain; what could the poor archer Love, whose arrows are but flowers, do against one whom the Daityas found invincible? But what am I saying? Truly Fate is adverse to me, for Fate stops my eyes with tears, and will not allow me to behold thee for long together, even in a picture." When the princess had said this, she began to weep with teardrops that were so large that it appeared as if her necklace were broken, and great pearls were falling from it.

At that moment her friend Manoharika advanced towards her, and the princess concealed the picture and said to her, "My friend, I have not seen you for ever so long; where have you been?" When Manoharika heard this, she laughed and said, "I have been wandering about, my friend, for a long time to look for you; so, why do you hide the picture? I saw a moment ago a wonderful picture." [697]

When Padmavati's friend said this to her, she seized her hand, and said to her with a face cast down from shame, and a voice choked with tears, "My friend, you knew it all long ago; why should I try to conceal it? [698] The fact is, that prince, though on that occasion, in the sacred enclosure of Gauri, he delivered me from the terrible fire of the Rakshasi's wrath, plunged me nevertheless in the fire of love, with its intolerable flame of separation. So I do not know, where to go, whom to speak to, what to do, or what expedient I must have recourse to, since my heart is fixed on one hard to obtain."

When the princess said this, her friend answered her, "My dear, this attachment of your mind is quite becoming and suitable; your union would certainly be to the enhancement of one another's beauty, as the union of the digit of the new moon with the hair of Siva matted into the form of a diadem. And do not be despondent about this matter: of a truth he will not be able to live without you; did you not see that he was affected in the same way as yourself? Even women, who see you, [699] are so much in love with your beauty that they desire to become men; so what man would not be a suitor for your hand? Much more will he be, who is equal to you in beauty. Do you suppose that Siva, who declared that you should be man and wife, can say what is false? However, what afflicted one feels quite patient about an object much desired, even though it is soon to be attained? So cheer up! He will soon become your husband. It is not hard for you to win any husband, but all men must feel that you are a prize hard to win."

When the princess's attendant said this to her, she answered her, "My friend, though I know all this, what am I to do? My heart cannot endure to remain for a moment without that lord of my life, to whom it is devoted, and Cupid will not bear to be trifled with any further. For when I think of him, my mind is immediately refreshed, [700] but my limbs burn, and my breath seems to leave my body with glowing heat."

Even as the princess was saying this, she, being soft as a flower, fell fainting with distraction into the arms of that friend of hers. Then her weeping friend gradually brought her round by sprinkling her with water and fanning her with plantain-leaves. Her friend employed with her the usual remedies of a necklace and bracelet of lotus-fibres, a moist anointing with sandal-wood unguent, and a bed of lotus-leaves; but these contracted heat by coming in contact with her body, and seemed by their heating and withering to feel the same pain as she felt.

Then Padmavati, in her agitation, said to that friend, "Why do you weary yourself in vain? My suffering cannot be alleviated in this way. It would be a happy thing, if you would take the only step likely to alleviate it." When she said this in her pain, her friend answered her, "What would not I do for your sake? Tell me, my friend, what that step is."

When the princess heard this, she said with difficulty, as if ashamed, "Go, my dear friend, and bring my beloved here quickly; for in no other way can my suffering be allayed, and my father will not be angry; on the contrary, as soon as he comes here, he will give me to him." When her friend heard that, she said to her in a tone of decision, "If it be so, recover your self-command. This is but a little matter. Here am I, my friend, setting out for Chandrapura the famous and splendid city of Chandraketu the king of the Vidyadharas, the father of your beloved, to bring your beloved to you. Be comforted! What is the use of grief?"

When the princess had been thus comforted by Manoharika, she said, "Then rise up, my friend, may your journey be prosperous! Go at once! And you must say courteously from me to that heroic lord of my life, who delivered the three worlds, 'When you delivered me so triumphantly in that temple of Gauri from the danger of the Rakshasis, how is that you do not deliver me now, when I am being slain by the G.o.d Cupid, the destroyer of women? Tell me, my lord, what kind of virtue is this in persons like yourself able to deliver the worlds--to neglect in calamity one whom you formerly saved, though she is devoted to you.' [701] This is what you must say, auspicious one, or something to this effect as your own wisdom may direct." When Padmavati had said this, she sent that friend on her errand. And she mounted a bird which her magic knowledge brought to her, to carry her, and set out for that city of the Vidyadharas.

And then Padmavati, having to a certain extent recovered her spirits by hope, took the painting-tablet, and entered the palace of her father. There she went into her own apartment surrounded by her servants, and bathed and worshipped Siva with intense devotion, and thus prayed to him, "Holy one, without thy favouring consent no wish, great or small, is fulfilled for any one in these three worlds. So if thou wilt not give me for a husband that n.o.ble son of the emperor of the Vidyadharas, on whom I have set my heart, I will abandon my body in front of thy image."

When she addressed this prayer to Siva, her attendants were filled with grief and astonishment, and said to her, "Why do you speak thus, princess, regardless of your body's weal? Is there anything in these three worlds difficult for you to obtain? Even Buddha would forget his self-restraint, if loved by you. So he must be a man of exceptional merit, whom you thus love." When the princess heard this, carried away by the thought of his virtues, she said, "How can I help loving him, who is the only refuge of Indra and the rest of the G.o.ds, who alone destroyed the army of the Asuras, as the sun destroys the darkness, and who saved my life?" Saying such things, she remained there full of longing, engaged in conversation about her beloved with her confidential attendants.

In the meanwhile her friend Manoharika, travelling at full speed, reached Chandrapura, that city of the king of the Vidyadharas; which Visvakarman made wonderful, and of unparalleled magnificence, as if dissatisfied with the city of the G.o.ds, though of that also he was the architect. There she searched for Muktaphalaketu, but could not find him, and then, riding on her bird, she went to the garden belonging to that city. She derived much pleasure from looking at that garden, the magic splendour of which was inconceivable; the trees of which were of glittering jewels, and had this peculiarity that one tree produced a great many flowers of different kinds; which was rendered charming by the blending of the notes of various birds with the sound of heavenly songs; and which was full of many slabs of precious stone.

And then, various gardeners, in the form of birds, saw her, and came up to her, speaking with articulate voice, and addressing her kindly, and they invited her to sit down on a slab of emerald at the foot of a parijata-tree, and when she was seated, served her with appropriate luxuries. And she received that attention gratefully, and said to herself, "Wonderful are the magic splendours of the princes of the Vidyadharas, since they possess such a garden in which enjoyments present themselves unlooked for, in which the servants are birds, and the nymphs of heaven keep up a perpetual concert." When she had said this to herself, she questioned those attendants, and at last, searching about, she found a thicket of parijata and other trees of the kind, and in it she saw Muktaphalaketu appearing to be ill, [702]

lying on a bed of flowers sprinkled with sandal-wood juice. And she recognized him, as she had become acquainted with him in the hermitage of Gauri, and she said to herself, "Let me see what his illness is, that he is lying here concealed."

In the meanwhile Muktaphalaketu began to say to his friend Samyataka, who was attempting to restore him with ice, and sandal-wood, and fanning, "Surely this G.o.d of love has placed hot coals in the ice for me, and in the sandal-wood juice a flame of chaff, and in the air of the fan a fire as of a burning forest, since he produces a scorching glow on every side of me, who am tortured with separation. So why, my friend, do you weary yourself in vain? In this garden, which surpa.s.ses Nandana, even the delightful songs and dances and other sports of heavenly nymphs afflict my soul. And without Padmavati, the lotus-faced, the daughter of Padmasekhara, this fever produced by the arrows of love cannot be alleviated. But I do not dare to say this, and I do not find a refuge in any one; indeed I know only of one expedient for obtaining her. I will go to the temple of Gauri, where I saw my beloved, and where she tore out my heart with the arrows of her sidelong glances, and carried it away. There Siva, who is united with the daughter of the king of mountains, will, when propitiated with penance, shew me how to become united with my beloved."

When the prince had said this, he was preparing to rise up, and then Manoharika, being much pleased, shewed herself; and Samyataka, delighted, said to that prince, "My friend, you are in luck; your desire is accomplished. Look! here is that beloved's female attendant come to you. I beheld her at the side of the princess in the hermitage of the G.o.ddess Ambika." Then the prince, beholding the friend of his beloved, was in a strange state, a state full of the bursting forth of joy, astonishment, and longing. And when she came near him, a rain of nectar to his eyes, he made her sit by his side, and asked her about the health of his beloved.

Then she gave him this answer, "No doubt my friend will be well enough, when you become her husband; but at present she is afflicted. For ever since she saw you, and you robbed her of her heart, she has been despondent, and neither hears nor sees. The maiden has left off her necklace, and wears a chain of lotus-fibres; and has abandoned her couch, and rolls on a bed of lotus-leaves. Best of conquerors, I tell you, her limbs, now white with the sandal-wood juice which is drying up with their heat, seem laughingly [703] to say, 'That very maiden, who formerly was too bashful to endure the mention of a lover [704], is now reduced to this sad condition by being separated from her dear one.' And she sends you this message." Having said so much, Manoharika recited the two verses which Padmavati had put into her mouth.

When Muktaphalaketu heard all that, his pain departed, and he joyfully welcomed Manoharika, and said to her, "This my mind has been irrigated by your speech, as by nectar, and is refreshed; and I have recovered my spirits, and got rid of my languor: my good deeds in a former life have to-day borne fruit, in that that daughter of the Gandharva king is so well-disposed towards me. But, though I might possibly be able to endure the agony of separation, how could that lady, whose body is as delicate as a sirisha-flower, endure it? So I will go to that very hermitage of Gauri; and do you bring your friend there, in order that we may meet at once. And go quickly, auspicious one, and comfort your friend, and give her this crest-jewel, which puts a stop to all grief, which the Self-existent gave me, when pleased with me. And this necklace, which Indra gave me, is a present for yourself." When the prince had said this, he gave her the crest-jewel from his head, and he took the necklace from his neck, and put it on hers.

Then Manoharika was delighted, and she bowed before him, and set out, mounted on her bird, to find her friend Padmavati. And Muktaphalaketu, his languor having been removed by delight, quickly entered his own city with Samyataka.

And Manoharika, when she came into the presence of Padmavati, told her of the love-pain of her beloved, as she had witnessed it, and repeated to her his speech, sweet and tender with affection, as she had heard it; and told her of the arrangement to meet her in the hermitage of Gauri, which he had made, and then gave her the crest-jewel which he had sent, and shewed her the chain which he had given herself as a present. Then Padmavati embraced and honoured that friend of hers who had been so successful; and forgot that pain of the fire of love which had tortured her before, and she fastened that crest-jewel on her head, as if it were joy, and began to prepare to go to the wood of Gauri.

In the meanwhile it happened that a hermit, of the name of Tapodhana, came to that grove of Gauri, with his pupil, named Dridhavrata. And while there, the hermit said to his pupil Dridhavrata, "I will engage in contemplation for a time in this heavenly garden. You must remain at the gate, and not let any one in, and after I have finished my contemplation, I will worship Parvati." When the hermit had said this, he placed that pupil at the gate of the garden, and began to engage in contemplation under a parijata-tree. After he rose up from his contemplation, he went into the temple to worship Ambika, but he did not tell his pupil, who was at the gate of the garden.

And in the meanwhile Muktaphalaketu came there adorned, with Samyataka, mounted on a heavenly camel. And as he was about to enter that garden, that pupil of the hermit forbade him, saying, "Do not do so! My spiritual superior is engaged in contemplation within." But the prince, longing to see his beloved, said to himself, "The area of this garden is extensive, and it is possible that she may have arrived and may be somewhere within it, whereas the hermit is only in one corner of it." So he got out of sight of that hermit's pupil, and with his friend entered the garden by flying through the air.

And while he was looking about, the hermit's pupil came in to see if his spiritual superior had completed his meditation. He could not see his superior there, but he did see the n.o.ble Muktaphalaketu with his friend, who had entered the garden by a way by which it was not meant to be entered. Then that pupil of the hermit cursed the prince in his anger, saying to him, "As you have interrupted the meditation of my spiritual guide, and driven him away, go with your friend to the world of men on account of this disrespect." After he had p.r.o.nounced this curse, he went in search of his superior. But Muktaphalaketu was thrown into great despondency by this curse having fallen on him like a thunderbolt, when his desire was on the point of being fulfilled. And in the meanwhile, Padmavati, eager to meet her beloved, came mounted on a bird, with Manoharika and her other attendants. And when the prince saw that lady, who had come to meet him of her own accord, but was now separated from him by a curse, he was reduced to a painful frame of mind in which sorrow and joy were blended. And at that very moment Padmavati's right eye throbbed, boding evil fortune, and her heart fluttered. Then the princess, seeing that her lover was despondent, thought that he might be annoyed because she had not come before he did, and approached him with an affectionate manner. Then the prince said to her, "My beloved, our desire, though on the point of fulfilment, has been again baffled by Fate." She said excitedly, "Alas! how baffled?" And then the prince told her how the curse was p.r.o.nounced on him.

Then they all went, in their despondency, to entreat the hermit, who was the spiritual guide of him who inflicted the curse, and was now in the temple of the G.o.ddess, to fix an end to the curse. When the great hermit, who possessed supernatural insight, saw them approach in humble guise, he said with a kind manner to Muktaphalaketu, "You have been cursed by this fool who acted rashly before he had reflected; [705] however you have not done me any harm, since I rose up of myself. And this curse can only be an instrument, not the real reason of your change; in truth you have in your mortal condition to do the G.o.ds a service. You shall come in the course of destiny to behold this Padmavati, and sick with love, you shall abandon your mortal body, and be quickly released from your curse. And you shall recover this lady of your life, wearing the same body that she wears now; for being a deliverer of the universe, you do not deserve to lie long under a curse. And the cause of all this that has befallen you is the slight stain of unrighteousness which attaches to you, on account of your having slain with that weapon of Brahma, which you employed, old men and children."

When Padmavati heard this, she said, with tears in her eyes, to that sage, "Holy Sir, let me now have the same lot as my future husband! I shall not be able to live for a moment without him." When Padmavati made this request, the hermit said to her, "This cannot be: do you remain here for the present engaged in asceticism, in order that he may be quickly delivered from his curse, and may marry you. And then, as the consort of that Muktaphalaketu, you shall rule the Vidyadharas and Asuras for ten kalpas. And while you are performing asceticism, this crest-jewel, which be gave you, shall protect you; for it is of great efficacy, having sprung from the water-pot of the Disposer."

When the hermit, possessing divine insight, had said this to Padmavati, Muktaphalaketu, bending low, addressed this prayer to him, "Holy Sir, may my faith in Siva be unwavering during my life as a man, and may my mind never be inclined to any lady but Padmavati." The hermit replied, "So let it be!" and then Padmavati, sorely grieved, p.r.o.nounced on that pupil, whose fault had entailed these misfortunes, the following curse, "Since you cursed in your folly my destined husband, you shall be a vehicle for him to ride on in his human condition, possessing the property of going with a wish and changing your shape at will." When the pupil had been thus cursed, he was despondent, and then the hermit Tapodhana disappeared with him.

Then Muktaphalaketu said to Padmavati, "I will now go to my city, and see what will happen to me there." When Padmavati heard this, being terrified at separation, she at once fell on the earth with all her ornaments, as a creeper, broken by the wind, falls with all its flowers. And Muktaphalaketu comforted, as well as he could, his crying love, and departed with his friend, frequently turning round his eyes to look at her. And after he was gone, Padmavati was much grieved, and weeping, said to her friend Manoharika, who tried to comfort her, "My friend, I am certain that I saw the G.o.ddess Parvati to-day in a dream, and she was about to throw a garland of lotuses round my neck, when she said, 'Never mind! I will give it you on some future occasion,' and desisted from her intention. So I understand that she wished in this way to let me know that my union with my beloved would be hindered." When she was mourning in this way over what had occurred, her friend said to her, "This dream was no doubt sent to you when you say, by the G.o.ddess, in order to comfort you. And the hermit said the very same to you, and the G.o.ds have clearly thus ordained: so, be of good cheer, you will soon be reunited with your beloved."

This and other speeches from her friend, and the magic efficacy of the crest-jewel made Padmavati recover her self-command, and she remained there in the hermitage of Gauri. And she performed asceticism, worshipping there Siva and Parvati, three times a day, and also the picture of her beloved, which she had brought from her own city, looking upon it as the image of a divinity. Her parents, hearing what had taken place, came to her in tears, and tried to prevent her, saying, "Do not uselessly fatigue yourself with penance, to bring about a desired end, which will anyhow take place." But she said to them, "How could I live here with any comfort, now that the husband recently appointed for me by the G.o.d has fallen into misery owing to a curse? For to ladies of good family a husband is a G.o.d. And no doubt, this calamity may soon be brought to an end by austerities, and Siva may be propitiated, and then I may be reunited with my beloved, for there is nothing [706] that austerities cannot accomplish." When Padmavati had said this with firm resolution, her mother Kuvalayavali said to her father the king, "King, let her perform this severe asceticism! Why trouble her further on false grounds? This is appointed for her by destiny: there is a reason for it; listen. Long ago, in the city of Siva, the daughter of the king of the Siddhas, named Devaprabha, was performing a very severe penance, in order to obtain the husband she desired. Now my daughter Padmavati had gone there with me to visit the shrine of the G.o.d, and she went up to the Siddha maiden and laughed at her, saying, 'Are you not ashamed to practise austerities in order to obtain a husband?' Then the Siddha maiden cursed her in her rage, saying, 'Fool! your laughter proceeds from childishness: you also shall perform painful austerities to your heart's content to obtain a husband.' Accordingly she must of necessity endure the misery which the curse of the Siddha maiden has entailed; who can alter that? So let her do what she is doing?" When the queen had said this to the king of the Gandharvas, he took leave at last, though reluctantly, of his daughter, who bowed at his feet, and went to his own city. And Padmavati remained in that hermitage of Parvati, intent on religious observances and prayers, and every day she went through the air and worshipped that Siddhisvara, that was worshipped by Brahma and the other G.o.ds, of which Siva had told her in a dream.

CHAPTER CXVIII.

While Padmavati was engaged in asceticism, in order that she might be reunited to Muktaphalaketu, the son of the emperor of the Vidyadharas, that prince, feeling that his descent into the world of men was nigh at hand owing to the curse of the Brahman, in his fear, fled to Siva as a refuge.

And while he was worshipping Siva, he heard a voice issue from the inner cell of his temple, "Fear not, for thou shalt not have to endure misery while dwelling in the womb, and thou shalt not have to suffer during thy life as a mortal, nor shalt thou long remain in that condition. [707] Thou shalt be born as a strong and valorous prince. Thou shalt obtain from the hermit Tapodhana the control of all weapons, and my Gana named Kinkara shall be thy younger brother. With his help thou shalt conquer thy enemies, and accomplish the required service for the G.o.ds, and thou shalt be reunited with Padmavati and rule the Vidyadharas." When that prince had heard this voice, he conceived hope, and remained waiting for the ripening, so to speak, of the fruit of the curse p.r.o.nounced upon him.

At this point of my story there was a city in the eastern region named Devasabha, that surpa.s.sed in splendour the court of the G.o.ds. In it there lived a universal monarch named Merudhvaja, the comrade of Indra when war arose between the G.o.ds and Asuras. That great-hearted prince was greedy of glory, not of the goods of others; his sword was sharp, but not his punishments; he feared sin, but not his enemy. His brows were sometimes curved in anger, but there was no crookedness in his heart. His arm was hard, where it was marked with the h.o.r.n.y thickening produced by the bowstring, but there was no hardness in his speech. He spared his helpless enemies in battle, but he did not exhibit any mean parsimony with regard to his treasure; [708] and he took pleasure in virtuous deeds and not in women.

That king had always two anxieties in his heart, the first was that not even one son was as yet born to him, the second was that the Asuras, who escaped from the slaughter in the great fight long ago between the G.o.ds and Asuras, and fled to Patala, kept continually sallying out to a distance from it, and treacherously destroying holy places, temples, and hermitages in his land, and then retiring into Patala again; and the king could not catch them, as they could move through the air as well as through Patala; that afflicted the brave monarch, though he had no rivals upon earth.

It happened that once, when he was afflicted with these anxieties, he went to the a.s.sembly of the G.o.ds, on the day of the full moon in the month Chaitra, in Indra's splendid chariot, which he sent to fetch him; for Indra always held a general a.s.sembly in the early part of that day, and king Merudhvaja always went to it in his chariot. But on that occasion the king kept sighing, though he was amused with the dances and songs of the heavenly nymphs, and honoured by Indra.

When the king of the G.o.ds saw that, knowing what was in his heart, he said to him, "King, I know what thy grief is; dismiss it from thy mind. One son shall be born to thee, who shall be called Muktaphaladhvaja, and shall be a portion of Siva, and a second named Malayadhvaja, who shall be an incarnation of a Gana. Muktaphaladhvaja and his younger brother shall obtain from the hermit Tapodhana the sciences and all weapons and a creature to ride on, that shall possess the power of a.s.suming any shape. And that invincible warrior shall again obtain the great weapon of Pasupati, and shall slay the Asuras, and get into his power the earth and Patala. And receive from me these two air-going elephants Kanchanagiri and Kanchanasekhara, together with mighty weapons." When Indra had said this to Merudhvaja, he gave him the arms and the elephants, and dismissed him, and he went delighted to his own city on the earth. But those Asuras, who had managed by their treachery to cast discredit upon the king, escaped being caught by him, even when mounted on the sky-going elephant, for they took refuge in Patala.

Then the king, desiring a son, went, on his heavenly elephant, to the hermitage of that hermit Tapodhana, of whom Indra had told him. There he approached that hermit, and told him that command of Indra, and said to him, "Reverend Sir, quickly tell me what course I ought to take to gain my end." And the hermit recommended that the king and his wife should immediately take upon them a vow for the propitiation of Siva, in order that they might attain their end. The king then proceeded to propitiate Siva with that vow, and then that G.o.d, being pleased, said to the king in a dream, "Rise up, king, thou shalt soon [709]

obtain one after another two invincible sons for the destruction of the Asuras." When the king had heard this, he told it to the hermit when he woke up in the morning, and after he and his wife had broken their fast, he returned to his own city.

Then that august and beautiful lady, the queen of Merudhvaja, became pregnant within a few days. And Muktaphalaketu was in some mysterious way conceived in her, having been compelled by the curse to abandon his Vidyadhara body. And that body of his remained in his own city of Chandrapura, guarded by his relations, kept by magic from corrupting.

So the queen of king Merudhvaja, in the city of Devasabha, delighted her husband by becoming pregnant. And the more the queen was oppressed by her condition, the more sprightly was her husband the king. And when the time came, she gave birth to a boy resembling the sun, who, though an infant, was of great might, even as Parvati gave birth to the G.o.d of war. And then not only did rejoicing take place over the whole earth, but in the heaven also in which the G.o.ds struck their drums. And the hermit Tapodhana, who possessed heavenly insight, came there in person, to congratulate that king Merudhvaja. With the help of that hermit, the rejoicing king gave his son the name Muktaphaladhvaja mentioned by Indra.

Then the hermit departed; but after the lapse of a year a second son was born to the king by that queen, and the king, with the help of that hermit, who, in the same way, came there out of joy, named him Malayadhvaja.

Then Samyataka was born as the son of the king's minister in accordance with the curse, and his father gave him the name of Mahabuddhi. Then those two princes gradually grew up, like lions' whelps, with that minister's son, and as they grew, their might developed also.

And after eight years only had pa.s.sed, the hermit Tapodhana came and invested those princes with the sacred thread. And during eight more years he instructed them [710] in knowledge, and in the accomplishments, and in the use of all the mighty weapons. Then king Merudhvaja, seeing that his sons were young men, able to fight with all weapons, considered that he had not lived in vain.

Then the hermit was about to return to his hermitage, but the king said to him, "Reverend Sir, now take whatever present you desire." The great sage answered, "This is the present I desire from you, king, that, with your sons, you would slay the Asuras that impede my sacrifices. The king said to him, "Then, reverend sir, you must now take your present; so begin a sacrifice; the Asuras will come to impede it, and then I will come with my sons. For formerly those Daityas, after they had treacherously wrought you wrong, used to fly up into the air, and dive into the sea, and go to Patala. But now I have two air-going elephants given me by Indra, by means of those two I and my sons will catch them, even if they do fly through the air."

When the hermit heard that, he was pleased and he said to the king, "Then do you make in the mean time fit preparation for my sacrifice, in order that I may go and begin a long sacrificial session that will be famous in every corner of the earth. And I will send you, as a messenger, this my pupil Dridhavrata, who has acquired the shape of an unrestrained mighty bird going with a wish; and on him shall Muktaphaladhvaja ride."

When the hermit had said this, he returned to his hermitage, and the king sent after him the preparations for the sacrifice. With those he began a sacrifice, at which the G.o.ds and rishis a.s.sembled in a body, and the Danavas, dwelling in Patala, were excited when they heard of it.