The Kādambarī of Bāṇa

‘“Immediately on his command Indrāyudha was brought, and he beheld that wondrous steed, led by two men on each side grasping the circle of the bit, and using all their efforts to curb him. He was very large, his back being just within reach of a man’s uplifted hand; he seemed to drink the sky, which was on a level with his mouth; with a neigh which shook the cavity of his belly, and filled the hollows of the three worlds, he, as it were, upbraided Garuḍa for his vain trust in his fabled speed; (162) with a nostril snorting in wrath at any hindrance to his course, he, in his pride, examined the three worlds, that he might leap over them; his body was variegated with streaks of black, yellow, green, and pink, like Indra’s bow; he was like a young elephant, with a many-hued rug spread over him; like Çiva’s bull, pink with metallic dust from butting at Kailāsa’s peaks; like Pārvatī’s lion, with his mane crimsoned with the red streak of the demon’s clotted blood; and like the very incarnation of all energy, with a sound emitted from his ever-quivering nostrils, he seemed to pour forth the wind inhaled in his swift course; he scattered the foam-flakes that frothed from his lips from the champing of the points of the bit which rattled as he rolled it in his mouth, as if they were mouthfuls of ambrosia drunk in his ocean home. (164) And, beholding this steed, whose like was never before seen, in form fit for the gods, meet for the kingdom of the whole universe, (165) possessed of all the favourable marks, the perfection of a horse’s shape, the heart of Candrāpīḍa, though of a nature not easily moved, was touched with amazement, and the thought arose in his mind: ‘What jewel, if not this wondrous horse, was brought up by the Suras and Asuras when they churned the waters of ocean and whirled round Mount Mandara with the serpent Vāsuki revolving in ceaseless gyration? And what has Indra gained by his lordship of the three worlds if he did not mount this back, broad as Mount Meru? Surely Indra was cheated by the ocean when his heart was gladdened by Uccaiḥçravas! And I think that so far he has not crossed the sight of holy Nārāyaṇa, who even now does not give up his infatuation for riding Garuḍa. My father’s royal glory surpasses the riches of the kingdom of heaven, in that treasures such as this, which can hardly be gained in the whole universe, come here into servitude. From its magnificence and energy, this form of his seems the shrine of a god, and the truth of this makes me fear to mount him. For forms like this, fit for the gods and the wonder of the universe, belong to no common horse. Even deities, subject to a muni’s curse, have been known to leave their own bodies and inhabit other bodies brought to them by the terms of the curse. (166) For there is a story of old how Sthūlaçiras, a muni of great austerity, cursed an Apsaras named Rambhā, the ornament of the three worlds; and she, leaving heaven, entered the heart of a horse, and thus, as the story goes, dwelt for a long time on earth as a mare, in the service of King Çatadhanvan, at Mṛittikāvatī; and many other great-souled beings, having had their glory destroyed by the curse of munis, have roamed the world in various forms. Surely this must be some noble being subject to a curse! My heart declares his divinity.’ Thus thinking, he rose, wishing to mount; and in mind only approaching the steed, he prayed thus: ‘Noble charger, thou art that thou art! All hail to thee! Yet let my audacity in mounting thee be forgiven! for even deities whose presence is unknown taste of a contumely all unmeet for them.’

‘“As if knowing his thought, Indrāyudha looked at him with eye askance, the pupil turned and partly closed by the lashing of his tossing mane, (167) and repeatedly struck the ground with his right hoof, till the hair on his chest was gray with the dust it cast up, as though summoning the prince to mount, with a pleasant whinnying long drawn out into a gentle soft murmur blent with the snorting of his quivering nostrils. Whereupon Candrāpīḍa mounted Indrāyudha, as though invited thereunto by his pleasant neighing; and, having mounted, he passed out, thinking the whole universe but a span long, and beheld a cavalcade of which the furthest limits could not be seen; it deafened the hollows of the three worlds with the clatter of hoofs breaking up the earth, fierce as a shower of stones let fall from the clouds, and with a neighing sounding the fiercer from nostrils choked with dust; it decked the sky with a forest of lances all horrent, whose shafts gleamed bright when touched by the sun, like a lake half hidden in a grove of blue lotus-buds upborne on their stalks; from its darkening the eight quarters with its thousand umbrellas all raised, it was like a mass of clouds iridescent with the full arch of Indra’s bow shining on them; (168) while from the horses’ mouths being white with foam-flakes cast abroad, and from the undulating line of their ceaseless curvetting, it rose to sight like a mass of ocean billows in the flood of final destruction; all the horses were in motion at Candrāpīḍa’s approach, as the waves of ocean at the moon’s rising; and the princes, each wishing to be first in their eagerness to pay their homage, having their heads unprotected by the hasty removal of their umbrellas, and weary with trying to curb their horses, which were wild with trampling on each other, drew around the prince. As Balāhaka presented each by name, they bowed, bending low their heads, which showed the glow of loyalty under the guise of the rays uprising from the rubies in their waving crests, and which, from their having buds held up in adoration, were like lotuses resting on the water in the pitchers of coronation. Having saluted them, Candrāpīḍa, accompanied by Vaiçampāyana, also mounted, straightway set out for the city. (169) He was shaded by a very large umbrella with a gold stick, borne above him, formed like the lotus on which royal glory might dwell, like the moon’s orb to the moon-lotus grove of royal races, like an island being formed by the flow of the cavalcade, in hue like the circle of Vāsuki’s hood whitened by the sea of milk, garlanded with many a rope of pearls, bearing the device of a lion designed above. The flowers in his ears were set dancing by the wind of the cowries waved on either side, and his praises were sung by many thousands of retainers running before him, young, for the most part, and brave, and by the bards, who ceaselessly recited aloud auspicious verses, with a soft cry of ‘Long life and victory.’

‘“And as he passed on his way to the city, like a manifestation of the god of love no longer bodiless,217 all the people, like a lotus-grove awakened by the moon’s rising, left their work and gathered to behold him.

‘“‘Kārtikeya scorns the name of Kumāra,218 since his own form is looked on with scorn by the throng of lotus-faces when this prince is by. Surely we reap the reward of great virtue in that we behold that godlike form with eyes wide with the overflow of love sprung up within us, and upraised in eager curiosity. (170) Our birth in this world has now brought forth its fruit. Nevertheless, all hail to blessed Kṛishṇa, who in the guise of Candrāpīḍa has assumed a new form!’ With such words the city folk folded their hands in adoration and bowed before him. And from the thousand windows which were unclosed from curiosity to behold Candrāpīḍa, the city itself became as it were a mass of open eyes; for straightway on hearing that he had left the palace of learning filled with all knowledge, women eager to see him mounted the roofs hastily throughout the city, leaving their half-done work; some with mirrors in their left hand were like the nights of the full moon, when the moon’s whole orb is gleaming; some, with feet roseate with fresh lac, were like lotus-buds whose flowers had drunk the early sunlight; some, with their tender feet enmeshed in the bells of their girdle, fallen to the ground in their haste, were like elephants moving very slowly, checked by their chain; some were robed in rainbow hues, like the beauty of a day in the rainy season; some raised feet that blossomed into the white rays of their nails, like tame kalahaṃsas drawn by the sound of the anklets; (171) some held strings of large pearls in their hands, as if in imitation of Rati with her crystal rosary grasped in grief for the death of Love; some, with wreaths of pearls falling between their breasts, were like the glory of evening when the pairs of cakravākas are separated by a pure slender stream; some, with rainbow flashes rising from the gems of their anklets, shone as if lovingly accompanied by tame peacocks; some, with their jewelled cups half drunk, distilled, as it were, from their rosy flower-like lips a sweet nectar. Others, too, with their orbed faces appearing at the interstices of the emerald lattices, presented to the eyes a lotus-grove with its opening buds traversing the sky, as they gazed on the prince. On a sudden there arose a tinkling of ornaments born of hasty motion, with many a sound of lutes struck sweetly on their chords, blended with the cry of cranes summoned by the clanging of the girdles, accompanied by the noise of peacocks shut up in the zenana and rejoicing in the thunder caused by the stairs being struck by stumbling feet, (172) soft with the murmur of kalahaṃsas fluttering in fear of the clash of fresh clouds, imitating the triumphant cry of Love, taking captive the ears of lovely women with their ropes of jewels resounding shrilly as they touched one another, and re-echoing through all the corners of the houses. In a moment the dense throng of maidens made the palaces seem walled with women; the ground seemed to blossom by the laying on it of their lac-strewn lotus-feet; the city seemed girt with grace by the stream of fair forms; the sky seemed all moon by the throng of orbed faces; the circle of space seemed a lotus-grove by reason of the hands all raised to ward off the heat; the sunshine seemed robed in rainbows by the mass of rays from the jewels, and the day seemed formed of blue lotus-petals by the long line of bright glances. As the women gazed on him with eyes fixed and widened in curiosity, the form of Candrāpīḍa entered into their hearts as though they were mirrors or water or crystal; and as the glow of love manifested itself there, their graceful speech became straightway mirthful, confidential, confused, envious, scornful, derisive, coquettish, loving, or full of longing. (173) As, for instance: ‘Hasty one, wait for me! Drunk with gazing, hold thy mantle! Simpleton, lift up the long tresses that hang about thy face! Remove thy moon-digit ornament! Blinded with love, thy feet are caught in the flowers of thine offering, and thou wilt fall! Love-distraught, tie up thy hair! Intent on the sight of Candrāpīḍa, raise thy girdle! Naughty one, lift up the ear-flower waving on thy cheek! Heartless one, pick up thine earring! Eager in youth, thou art being watched! Cover thy bosom! Shameless one, gather up thy loosened robe! Artfully artless, go on quicker! Inquisitive girl, take another look at the king! Insatiable, how long wilt thou look? Fickle-hearted, think of thine own people! Impish girl, thy mantle has fallen, and thou art mocked! Thou whose eyes art filled with love, seest thou not thy friends? Maiden full of guile, thou wilt live in sorrow with thy heart in causeless torment! Thou who feignest coyness, what mean thy crafty glances? (174) look boldly! Bright with youth, why rest thy weight against us? Angry one, go in front! Envious girl, why block up the window? Slave of love, thou bringest my outer robe to utter ruin! Drunk with love’s breath, restrain thyself! Devoid of self-control, why run before thine elders? Bright in strength, why so confused? Silly girl, hide the thrill of love’s fever! Ill-behaved girl, why thus weary thyself? Changeful one, thy girdle presseth thee, and thou sufferest vainly! Absent-minded, thou heedest not thyself, though outside thy house! Lost in curiosity, thou hast forgotten how to breathe! Thou whose eyes art closed in the happy imagination of union with thy beloved, open them! He is passing! Bereft of sense by the stroke of love’s arrow, place the end of thy silken robe on thy head to keep off the sun’s rays! Thou who hast taken the vow of Satī, thou lettest thine eyes wander, not seeing what is to be seen! Wretched one, thou art cast down by the vow not to gaze on other men! Vouchsafe to rise, dear friend, and to look at the blessed fish-bannered god,219 without his banner and bereft of Rati, visibly present. (175) His crest of mālatī flowers under his umbrella looks like a mass of moonbeams fallen in under the idea that night has set in, on his head dark with swarms of bees. His cheek is fair as a garland of open çirīsha flowers touched with green by the splendour of his emerald earring. Our youthful glow of love, under the guise of rich ruby rays among the pearl necklaces, shines out eager to enter his heart. It is so seen by him among the cowries. Moreover, what is he laughing at as he talks to Vaiçampāyana, so that the circle of space is whitened with his bright teeth? Balāhaka, with the edge of his silken mantle green as a parrot’s plumage, is removing from the tips of his hair the dust raised by the horses’ hoofs. His bough-like foot, soft as Lakshmī’s lotus-hand, is raised and sportively cast athwart his horse’s shoulder. His hand, with tapering fingers and bright as pink lotus-buds, is outstretched to its full length to ask for betel-nut, just as an elephant’s trunk in eagerness for mouthfuls of vallisneria. (176) Happy is she who, a fellow-bride with earth, shall, like Lakshmī, win that hand outvying the lotus! Happy, too, is Queen Vilāsavatī, by whom he who is able to bear the whole earth was nourished in birth, as the elephant of the quarters by Space!’

‘“And as they uttered these and other sayings of the same kind, Candrāpīḍa, drunk in by their eyes, summoned by the tinkling of their ornaments, followed by their hearts, bound by the ropes of the rays of their jewels, honoured with the offering of their fresh youth, bestrewn with flowers and rice in salutation like a marriage fire, advancing step by step on a mass of white bracelets slipping from their languid arms, reached the palace.”’

[Dismounting and leaning on Vaiçampāyana, he entered the court, preceded by Balāhaka, and passing through the crowd of attendant kings, beheld his father seated on a white couch and attended by his guards.220]

‘“(189) And on the chamberlain’s saying ‘Behold him!’ the prince, with his head bent low, and its crest shaking, while yet afar off made his salutation, and his father, crying from afar, ‘Come, come hither!’ stretched forth both arms, raised himself slightly from his couch, while his eyes filled with tears of joy and a thrill passed over his body, and embraced his reverently-bent son as though he would bind him fast221 and absorb him, and drink him in. And after the embrace, Candrāpīḍa sat down on the bare ground by his father’s footstool, kicking away the cloak which had been rolled up and hastily made into a seat by his own betel-nut bearer, and softly bidding her take it away; (190) and then Vaiçampāyana, being embraced by the king like his own son, sat down on a seat placed for him. When he had been there a short time, assailed, as it were, by glances from the women who stood motionless, with the waving of the cowries forgotten, glances of love, long as strings of lotus stirred by the wind, from fine eyes tremulous and askant, he was dismissed with the words, ‘Go, my son, salute thy loving mother, who longs to see thee, and then in turn gladden all who nurtured thee by thy sight.’ Respectfully rising, and stopping his suite from following him, he went with Vaiçampāyana to the zenana, led by the royal servants meet to enter therein, and approaching his mother, saluted her”’ [as she sat surrounded by her attendants and by aged ascetic women, who read and recited legends to her222].

‘“(191) She raised him, while her attendants, skilled in doing her commands, stood around her, and, with a loving caress, held him in a long embrace, as though thinking inwardly of a hundred auspicious words to say, and straightway, when the claims of affection had been satisfied, and she had embraced Vaiçampāyana, she sat down, and drew Candrāpīḍa, who was reverently seated on the ground, forcibly and against his will to rest in her arms; (192) and when Vaiçampāyana was seated on a stool quickly brought by the attendants, she embraced Candrāpīḍa again and again on brow, breast, and shoulders, and said, with many a caressing touch: ‘Hard-hearted, my child, was thy father, by whom so fair a form, meet to be cherished by the whole universe, was made to undergo great fatigue for so long! How didst thou endure the tedious restraint of thy gurus? Indeed, young as thou art, thou hast a strong man’s fortitude! Thy heart, even in childhood, has lost all idle liking for childish amusement and play. Ah well, all devotion to natural and spiritual parents is something apart; and as I now see thee endowed, by thy father’s favour, with all knowledge, so I shall soon see thee endowed with worthy wives.’ Having thus said as he bent his head, smiling half in shame, she kissed him on the cheek, which was a full reflection of her own, and garlanded with open lotuses; and he, when he had stayed a short time, gladdened in turn by his presence the whole zenana. Then, departing by the royal door, he mounted Indrāyudha, who was standing outside, and, followed by the princes, went to see Çukanāsa,”’ [and at the gate of an outer court, filled with priests of many sects, he dismounted223] ‘“(194) and entered the palace of Çukanāsa, which resembled a second royal court. On entering he saluted Çukanāsa like a second father as he stood in the midst of thousands of kings, showing him all respect, with his crest bent low even from afar. Çukanāsa, quickly rising, while the kings rose one after another, and respectfully advancing straight to him, with tears of joy falling from eyes wide with gladness, heartily, and with great affection, embraced him, together with Vaiçampāyana. Then the prince, rejecting the jewelled seat respectfully brought, sat on the bare ground, and next to him sat Vaiçampāyana; and when he sat on the ground, the whole circle of kings, except Çukanāsa, leaving their own seats, sat also on the ground. Çukanāsa stood silent for a moment, showing his extreme joy by the thrill that passed over his limbs, and then said to the prince: ‘Truly, my child, now that King Tārāpīḍa has seen thee grown to youth and possessed of knowledge, he has at length gained the fruit of his rule over the universe. Now all the blessings of thy parents have been fulfilled. Now the merit acquired in many other births has borne fruit. Now the gods of thy race are content. (195) For they who, like thee, astonish the three worlds, do not become the sons of the unworthy. For where is thy age? and where thy superhuman power and thy capacity of reaching boundless knowledge? Yea, blessed are those subjects who have thee for their protector, one like unto Bharata and Bhagīratha. What bright deed of merit was done by Earth that she has won thee as lord? Surely, Lakshmī is destroyed by persisting in the caprice of dwelling in Vishṇu’s bosom, that she does not approach thee in mortal form! But, nevertheless, do thou with thine arm, as the Great Boar with his circle of tusks, bear up for myriads of ages the weight of the earth, helping thy father.’ Thus saying, and offering homage with ornaments, dresses, flowers, and unguents, he dismissed him. Thereupon the prince, rising, and entering the zenana, visited Vaiçampāyana’s mother, by name Manoramā, and, departing, mounted Indrāyudha, and went to his palace. It had been previously arranged by his father, and had white jars filled and placed on the gates, like an image of the royal palace; it had garlands of green sandal boughs, thousands of white flags flying, and filled the air with the sound of auspicious instruments of music; open lotuses were strewn in it. A sacrifice to Agni had just been performed, every attendant was in bright apparel, every auspicious ceremony for entering a house had been prepared. On his arrival he sat for a short time on a couch placed in the hall, and then, together with his princely retinue, performed the day’s duties, beginning with bathing and ending with a banquet; (196) and meanwhile he arranged that Indrāyudha should dwell in his own chamber.

‘“And in these doings of his the day came to a close; the sun’s orb fell with lifted rays like the ruby anklet – its interstices veiled in its own light – of the Glory of Day, as she hastens from the sky. (198) And when evening had begun, Candrāpīḍa, encircled by a fence of lighted lamps, went on foot to the king’s palace, (199) and having stayed a short time with his father, and seen Vilāsavatī, he returned to his own house and lay down on a couch, many-hued with the radiance of various gems, like Kṛishṇa on the circle of Çesha’s hoods.

‘“And when night had turned to dawn, he, with his father’s leave, rose before sunrise, in eagerness for the new delight of hunting, and, mounting Indrāyudha, went to the wood with a great retinue of runners, horses, and elephants. His eagerness was doubled by huntsmen leading in a golden leash hounds large as asses. With arrows whose shafts were bright as the leaves of a blossoming lotus, and fit to cleave the frontal bones of young wild elephants, he slew wild boars, lions, çarabhas,224 yaks, and many other kinds of deer by thousands, (200) while the woodland goddesses looked at him with half-closed eyes, fluttered by fear of the twanging of his bow. Other animals by his great energy he took alive. And when the sun reached the zenith, he rode home from the wood (201) with but a few princes who were well mounted, going over the events of the chase, saying: ‘Thus I killed a lion, thus a bear, thus a buffalo, thus a çarabha, thus a stag.’

‘“On dismounting, he sat down on a seat brought hastily by his attendants, took off his corselet, and removed the rest of his riding apparel; he then rested a short time, till his weariness was removed by the wind of waving fans; having rested, he went to the bathroom, provided with a hundred pitchers of gold, silver, and jewels, and having a gold seat placed in its midst. And when the bath was over, and he had been rubbed in a separate room with cloths, his head was covered with a strip of pure linen, his raiment was put on, and he performed his homage to the gods; and when he entered the perfuming-room, there approached him the court women attendants, appointed by the grand chamberlain and sent by the king, slaves of Vilāsavatī, with Kulavardhanā, and zenana women sent from the whole zenana, bearing in baskets different ornaments, wreaths, unguents, and robes, which they presented to him. Having taken them in due order from the women, he first himself anointed Vaiçampāyana. When his own anointing was done, and giving to those around him flowers, perfumes, robes, and jewels, as was meet, (202) he went to the banquet-hall, rich in a thousand jewelled vessels, like the autumn sky gleaming with stars. He there sat on a doubled rug, with Vaiçampāyana next him, eagerly employed, as was fitting, in praising his virtues, and the host of princes, placed each in order of seniority on the ground, felt the pleasure of their service increased by seeing the great courtesy with which the prince said: ‘Let this be given to him, and that to him!’ And so he duly partook of his morning meal.

‘“After rinsing his mouth and taking betel, he stayed there a short time, and then went to Indrāyudha, and there, without sitting down, while his attendants stood behind him, with upraised faces, awaiting his commands, and talking mostly about Indrāyudha’s points, he himself, with heart uplifted by Indrāyudha’s merits, scattered the fodder before him, and departing, visited the court; and in the same order of routine he saw the king, and, returning home, spent the night there. Next day, at dawn, he beheld approaching a chamberlain, by name Kailāsa, the chief of the zenana, greatly trusted by the king, accompanied by a maiden of noble form, in her first youth, from her life at court self-possessed, yet not devoid of modesty, (203) growing to maidenhood, and in her veil of silk red with cochineal, resembling the Eastern quarter clothed in early sunshine. (204) And Kailāsa, bowing and approaching, with his right hand placed on the ground, spoke as follows:

‘“‘Prince, Queen Vilāsavatī bids me say: “This maiden, by name Patralekhā, daughter of the King of Kulūta, was brought with the captives by the great king on his conquest of the royal city of Kulūta while she was yet a little child, and was placed among the zenana women. And tenderness grew up in me towards her, seeing she was a king’s daughter and without a protector, and she was long cared for and brought up by me just like a daughter. Therefore, I now send her to thee, thinking her fit to be thy betel-bearer; but she must not be looked on by thee, great prince of many days, as thine other attendants. She must be cared for as a young maiden; she must be shielded from the thoughtless like thine own nature; she must be looked on as a pupil. (205) Like a friend, she must be admitted to all thy confidences. By reason of the love that has long grown up in me, my heart rests on her as on my own daughter; and being sprung from a great race, she is fitted for such duties; in truth, she herself will in a few days charm the prince by her perfect gentleness. My love for her is of long growth, and therefore strong; but as the prince does not yet know her character, this is told to him. Thou must in all ways strive, happy prince, that she may long be thy fitting companion.”’ When Kailāsa had thus spoken and was silent, Candrāpīḍa looked long and steadily at Patralekhā as she made a courteous obeisance, and with the words, ‘As my mother wishes,’ dismissed the chamberlain. And Patralekhā, from her first sight of him, was filled with devotion to him, and never left the prince’s side either by night or day, whether he was sleeping, or sitting, or standing, or walking, or going to the court, just as if she were his shadow; while he felt for her a great affection, beginning from his first glance at her, and constantly growing; he daily showed more favour to her, and counted her in all his secrets as part of his own heart.