The Kādambarī of Bāṇa

‘“As the days thus passed on, the king, eager for the anointing of Candrāpīḍa as crown prince, (206) appointed chamberlains to gather together all things needful for it; and when it was at hand, Çukanāsa, desirous of increasing the prince’s modesty, great as it already was, spoke to him at length during one of his visits: ‘Dear Candrāpīḍa, though thou hast learnt what is to be known, and read all the çāstras, no little remains for thee to learn. For truly the darkness arising from youth is by nature very thick, nor can it be pierced by the sun, nor cleft by the radiance of jewels, nor dispelled by the brightness of lamps. The intoxication of Lakshmī is terrible, and does not cease even in old age. There is, too, another blindness of power, evil, not to be cured by any salve. The fever of pride runs very high, and no cooling appliances can allay it. The madness that rises from tasting the poison of the senses is violent, and not to be counteracted by roots or charms. The defilement of the stain of passion is never destroyed by bathing or purification. The sleep of the multitude of royal pleasures is ever terrible, and the end of night brings no waking. Thus thou must often be told at length. Lordship inherited even from birth, fresh youth, peerless beauty, superhuman talent, all this is a long succession of ills. (207) Each of these separately is a home of insolence; how much more the assemblage of them! For in early youth the mind often loses its purity, though it be cleansed with the pure waters of the çāstras. The eyes of the young become inflamed, though their clearness is not quite lost. Nature, too, when the whirlwind of passion arises, carries a man far in youth at its own will, like a dry leaf borne on the wind. This mirage of pleasure, which captivates the senses as if they were deer, always ends in sorrow. When the mind has its consciousness dulled by early youth, the characteristics of the outer world fall on it like water, all the more sweetly for being but just tasted. Extreme clinging to the things of sense destroys a man, misleading him like ignorance of his bearings. But men such as thou art the fitting vessels for instruction. For on a mind free from stain the virtue of good counsel enters easily, as the moon’s rays on a moon crystal. The words of a guru, though pure, yet cause great pain when they enter the ears of the bad, as water does; (208) while in others they produce a nobler beauty, like the ear-jewel on an elephant. They remove the thick darkness of many sins, like the moon in the gloaming.225 The teaching of a guru is calming, and brings to an end the faults of youth by turning them to virtue, just as old age takes away the dark stain of the locks by turning them to gray. This is the time to teach thee, while thou hast not yet tasted the pleasures of sense. For teaching pours away like water in a heart shattered by the stroke of love’s arrow. Family and sacred tradition are unavailing to the froward and undisciplined. Does a fire not burn when fed on sandal-wood? Is not the submarine fire the fiercer in the water that is wont to quench fire? But the words of a guru are a bathing without water, able to cleanse all the stains of man; they are a maturity that changes not the locks to gray; they give weight without increase of bulk; though not wrought of gold, they are an ear-jewel of no common order; without light they shine; without startling they awaken. They are specially needed for kings, for the admonishers of kings are few. (209) For from fear, men follow like an echo the words of kings, and so, being unbridled in their pride, and having the cavity of their ears wholly stopped, they do not hear good advice even when offered; and when they do hear, by closing their eyes like an elephant, they show their contempt, and pain the teachers who offer them good counsel. For the nature of kings, being darkened by the madness of pride’s fever, is perturbed; their wealth causes arrogance and false self-esteem; their royal glory causes the torpor brought about by the poison of kingly power. First, let one who strives after happiness look at Lakshmī. For this Lakshmī, who now rests like a bee on the lotus-grove of a circle of naked swords, has risen from the milk ocean, has taken her glow from the buds of the coral-tree, her crookedness from the moon’s digit, her restlessness from the steed Uccaiḥçrava, her witchery from Kālakūṭa poison, her intoxication from nectar, and from the Kaustubha gem her hardness. (210) All these she has taken as keepsakes to relieve her longing with memory of her companions’ friendship. There is nothing so little understood here in the world as this base Lakshmī. When won, she is hard to keep; when bound fast by the firm cords of heroism, she vanishes; when held by a cage of swords brandished by a thousand fierce champions, she yet escapes; when guarded by a thick band of elephants, dark with a storm of ichor, she yet flees away. She keeps not friendships; she regards not race; she recks not of beauty; she follows not the fortunes of a family; she looks not on character; she counts not cleverness; she hears not sacred learning; she courts not righteousness; she honours not liberality; she values not discrimination; she guards not conduct; she understands not truth; she makes not auspicious marks her guide; like the outline of an aërial city, she vanishes even as we look on her. She is still dizzy with the feeling produced by the eddying of the whirlpool made by Mount Mandara. As if she were the tip of a lotus-stalk bound to the varying motion of a lotus-bed, she gives no firm foothold anywhere. Even when held fast with great effort in palaces, she totters as if drunk with the ichor of their many wild elephants. (211) She dwells on the sword’s edge as if to learn cruelty. She clings to the form of Nārāyaṇa as if to learn constant change of form. Full of fickleness, she leaves even a king, richly endowed with friends, judicial power, treasure, and territory, as she leaves a lotus at the end of day, though it have root, stalk, bud, and wide-spreading petals. Like a creeper, she is ever a parasite.226 Like Gangā, though producing wealth, she is all astir with bubbles; like the sun’s ray, she alights on one thing after another; like the cavity of hell, she is full of dense darkness. Like the demon Hiḍambā, her heart is only won by the courage of a Bhīma; like the rainy season, she sends forth but a momentary flash; like an evil demon, she, with the height of many men,227 crazes the feeble mind. As if jealous, she embraces not him whom learning has favoured; she touches not the virtuous man, as being impure; she despises a lofty nature as unpropitious; she regards not the gently-born, as useless. She leaps over a courteous man as a snake; (212) she avoids a hero as a thorn; she forgets a giver as a nightmare; she keeps far from a temperate man as a villain; she mocks at the wise as a fool; she manifests her ways in the world as if in a jugglery that unites contradictions. For, though creating constant fever,228 she produces a chill;229 though exalting men, she shows lowness of soul; though rising from water, she augments thirst; though bestowing lordship,230 she shows an unlordly231 nature; though loading men with power, she deprives them of weight;232 though sister of nectar, she leaves a bitter taste; though of earthly mould,233 she is invisible; though attached to the highest,234 she loves the base; like a creature of dust, she soils even the pure. Moreover, let this wavering one shine as she may, she yet, like lamplight, only sends forth lamp-black. For she is the fostering rain of the poison-plants of desire, the hunter’s luring song to the deer of the senses, the polluting smoke to the pictures of virtue, the luxurious couch of infatuation’s long sleep, the ancient watch-tower of the demons of pride and wealth. (213) She is the cataract gathering over eyes lighted by the çāstras, the banner of the reckless, the native stream of the alligators of wrath, the tavern of the mead of the senses, the music-hall of alluring dances, the lair of the serpents of sin, the rod to drive out good practices. She is the untimely rain to the kalahaṃsas235 of the virtues, the hotbed of the pustules of scandal, the prologue of the drama of fraud, the roar of the elephant of passion, the slaughter-house of goodness, the tongue of Rāhu for the moon of holiness. Nor see I any who has not been violently embraced by her while she was yet unknown to him, and whom she has not deceived. Truly, even in a picture she moves; even in a book she practises magic; even cut in a gem she deceives; even when heard she misleads; even when thought on she betrays.

‘“‘When this wretched evil creature wins kings after great toil by the will of destiny, they become helpless, and the abode of every shameful deed. For at the very moment of coronation their graciousness is washed away as if by the auspicious water-jars; (214) their heart is darkened as by the smoke of the sacrificial fire; their patience is swept away as by the kuça brooms of the priest; their remembrance of advancing age is concealed as by the donning of the turban; the sight of the next world is kept afar as by the umbrella’s circle; truth is removed as by the wind of the cowries; virtue is driven out as by the wands of office; the voices of the good are drowned as by cries of “All hail!” and glory is flouted as by the streamers of the banners.

‘“‘For some kings are deceived by successes which are uncertain as the tremulous beaks of birds when loose from weariness, and which, though pleasant for a moment as a firefly’s flash, are contemned by the wise; they forget their origin in the pride of amassing a little wealth, and are troubled by the onrush of passion as by a blood-poisoning brought on by accumulated diseases; they are tortured by the senses, which though but five, in their eagerness to taste every pleasure, turn to a thousand; they are bewildered by the mind, which, in native fickleness, follows its own impulses, and, being but one, gets the force of a hundred thousand in its changes. Thus they fall into utter helplessness. They are seized by demons, conquered by imps, (215) possessed by enchantments, held by monsters, mocked by the wind, swallowed by ogres. Pierced by the arrows of Kāma, they make a thousand contortions; scorched by covetousness, they writhe; struck down by fierce blows, they sink down.236 Like crabs, they sidle; like cripples, with steps broken by sin, they are led helpless by others; like stammerers from former sins of falsehood, they can scarce babble; like saptacchada237 trees, they produce headache in those near them; like dying men, they know not even their kin; like purblind238 men, they cannot see the brightest virtue; like men bitten in a fatal hour, they are not waked even by mighty charms; like lac-ornaments, they cannot endure strong heat;239 like rogue elephants, being firmly fixed to the pillar of self-conceit, they refuse teaching; bewildered by the poison of covetousness, they see everything as golden; like arrows sharpened by polishing,240 when in the hands of others they cause destruction; (216) with their rods241 they strike down great families, like high-growing fruit; like untimely blossoms, though fair outwardly, they cause destruction; they are terrible of nature, like the ashes of a funeral pyre; like men with cataract, they can see no distance; like men possessed, they have their houses ruled by court jesters; when but heard of, they terrify, like funeral drums; when but thought of, like a resolve to commit mortal sin, they bring about great calamity; being daily filled with sin, they become wholly puffed up. In this state, having allied themselves to a hundred sins, they are like drops of water hanging on the tip of the grass on an anthill, and have fallen without perceiving it.

‘“‘But others are deceived by rogues intent on their own ends, greedy of the flesh-pots of wealth, cranes of the palace lotus-beds! “Gambling,” say these, “is a relaxation; adultery a sign of cleverness; hunting, exercise; drinking, delight; recklessness, heroism; neglect of a wife, freedom from infatuation; (217) contempt of a guru’s words, a claim to others’ submission; unruliness of servants, the ensuring of pleasant service; devotion to dance, song, music, and bad company, is knowledge of the world; hearkening to shameful crimes is greatness of mind; tame endurance of contempt is patience; self-will is lordship; disregard of the gods is high spirit; the praise of bards is glory; restlessness is enterprise; lack of discernment is impartiality.” Thus are kings deceived with more than mortal praises by men ready to raise faults to the grade of virtues, practised in deception, laughing in their hearts, utterly villainous; and thus these monarchs, by reason of their senselessness, have their minds intoxicated by the pride of wealth, and have a settled false conceit in them that these things are really so; though subject to mortal conditions, they look on themselves as having alighted on earth as divine beings with a superhuman destiny; they employ a pomp in their undertakings only fit for gods (218) and win the contempt of all mankind. They welcome this deception of themselves by their followers. From the delusion as to their own divinity established in their minds, they are overthrown by false ideas, and they think their own pair of arms have received another pair;242 they imagine their forehead has a third eye buried in the skin.243 They consider the sight of themselves a favour; they esteem their glance a benefit; they regard their words as a present; they hold their command a glorious boon; they deem their touch a purification. Weighed down by the pride of their false greatness, they neither do homage to the gods, nor reverence Brahmans, nor honour the honourable, nor salute those to whom salutes are due, nor address those who should be addressed, nor rise to greet their gurus. They laugh at the learned as losing in useless labour all the enjoyment of pleasure; they look on the teaching of the old as the wandering talk of dotage; they abuse the advice of their councillors as an insult to their own wisdom; they are wroth with the giver of good counsel.

‘“‘At all events, the man they welcome, with whom they converse, whom they place by their side, advance, (219) take as companion of their pleasure and recipient of their gifts, choose as a friend, the man to whose voice they listen, on whom they rain favours, of whom they think highly, in whom they trust, is he who does nothing day and night but ceaselessly salute them, praise them as divine, and exalt their greatness.

‘“‘What can we expect of those kings whose standard is a law of deceit, pitiless in the cruelty of its maxims; whose gurus are family priests, with natures made merciless by magic rites; whose teachers are councillors skilled to deceive others; whose hearts are set on a power that hundreds of kings before them have gained and lost; whose skill in weapons is only to inflict death; whose brothers, tender as their hearts may be with natural affection, are only to be slaughtered.

‘“‘Therefore, my Prince, in this post of empire which is terrible in the hundreds of evil and perverse impulses which attend it, and in this season of youth which leads to utter infatuation, thou must strive earnestly not to be scorned by thy people, nor blamed by the good, nor cursed by thy gurus, nor reproached by thy friends, nor grieved over by the wise. Strive, too, that thou be not exposed by knaves, (220) deceived by sharpers, preyed upon by villains, torn to pieces by wolvish courtiers, misled by rascals, deluded by women, cheated by fortune, led a wild dance by pride, maddened by desire, assailed by the things of sense, dragged headlong by passion, carried away by pleasure.

‘“‘Granted that by nature thou art steadfast, and that by thy father’s care thou art trained in goodness, and moreover, that wealth only intoxicates the light of nature, and the thoughtless, yet my very delight in thy virtues makes me speak thus at length.

‘“‘Let this saying be ever ringing in thine ears: There is none so wise, so prudent, so magnanimous, so gracious, so steadfast, and so earnest, that the shameless wretch Fortune cannot grind him to powder. Yet now mayest thou enjoy the consecration of thy youth to kinghood by thy father under happy auspices. Bear the yoke handed down to thee that thy forefathers have borne. Bow the heads of thy foes; raise the host of thy friends; after thy coronation wander round the world for conquest; and bring under thy sway the earth with its seven continents subdued of yore by thy father.

‘“‘This is the time to crown thyself with glory. (221) A glorious king has his commands fulfilled as swiftly as a great ascetic.’

‘“Having said thus much, he was silent, and by his words Candrāpīḍa was, as it were, washed, wakened, purified, brightened, bedewed, anointed, adorned, cleansed, and made radiant, and with glad heart he returned after a short time to his own palace.

‘“Some days later, on an auspicious day, the king, surrounded by a thousand chiefs, raised aloft, with Çukanāsa’s help, the vessel of consecration, and himself anointed his son, while the rest of the rites were performed by the family priest. The water of consecration was brought from every sacred pool, river and ocean, encircled by every plant, fruit, earth, and gem, mingled with tears of joy, and purified by mantras. At that very moment, while the prince was yet wet with the water of consecration, royal glory passed on to him without leaving Tārāpīḍa, as a creeper still clasping its own tree passes to another. (222) Straightway he was anointed from head to foot by Vilāsavatī, attended by all the zenana, and full of tender love, with sweet sandal white as moonbeams. He was garlanded with fresh white flowers; decked244 with lines of gorocanā; adorned with an earring of dūrvā grass; clad in two new silken robes with long fringes, white as the moon; bound with an amulet round his hand, tied by the family priest; and had his breast encircled by a pearl-necklace, like the circle of the Seven Ṛishis come down to see his coronation, strung on filaments from the lotus-pool of the royal fortune of young royalty.

‘“From the complete concealment of his body by wreaths of white flowers interwoven and hanging to his knees, soft as moonbeams, and from his wearing snowy robes he was like Narasiṃha, shaking his thick mane,245 or like Kailāsa, with its flowing streams, or Airāvata, rough with the tangled lotus-fibres of the heavenly Ganges, or the Milky Ocean, all covered with flakes of bright foam.

(223) ‘“Then his father himself for that time took the chamberlain’s wand to make way for him, and he went to the hall of assembly and mounted the royal throne, like the moon on Meru’s peak. Then, when he had received due homage from the kings, after a short pause the great drum that heralded his setting out on his triumphal course resounded deeply, under the stroke of golden drum-sticks. Its sound was as the noise of clouds gathering at the day of doom; or the ocean struck by Mandara; or the foundations of earth by the earthquakes that close an aeon; or a portent-cloud, with its flashes of lightning; or the hollow of hell by the blows of the snout of the Great Boar. And by its sound the spaces of the world were inflated, opened, separated, outspread, filled, turned sunwise, and deepened, and the bonds that held the sky were unloosed. The echo of it wandered through the three worlds; for it was embraced in the lower world by Çesha, with his thousand hoods raised and bristling in fear; it was challenged in space by the elephants of the quarters tossing their tusks in opposition; it was honoured with sunwise turns in the sky by the sun’s steeds, tossing246 their heads in their snort of terror; (224) it was wondrously answered on Kailāsa’s peak by Çiva’s bull, with a roar of joy in the belief that it was his master’s loudest laugh; it was met in Meru by Airāvata, with deep trumpeting; it was reverenced in the hall of the gods by Yama’s bull, with his curved horns turned sideways in wrath at so strange a sound; and it was heard in terror by the guardian gods of the world.

‘“Then, at the roar of the drum, followed by an outcry of ‘All hail!’ from all sides, Candrāpīḍa came down from the throne, and with him went the glory of his foes. He left the hall of assembly, followed by a thousand chiefs, who rose hastily around him, strewing on all sides the large pearls that fell from the strings of their necklaces as they struck against each other, like rice sportively thrown as a good omen for their setting off to conquer the world. He showed like the coral-tree amid the white buds of the kalpa-trees;247 or Airāvata amid the elephants of the quarters bedewing him with water from their trunks; or heaven, with the firmament showering stars; or the rainy season with clouds ever pouring heavy drops.

(225) ‘“Then an elephant was hastily brought by the mahout, adorned with all auspicious signs for the journey, and on the inner seat Patralekhā was placed. The prince then mounted, and under the shade of an umbrella with a hundred wires enmeshed with pearls, beauteous as Kailāsa standing on the arms of Rāvaṇa, and white as the whirlpools of the Milky Ocean under the tossing of the mountain, he started on his journey. And as he paused in his departure he saw the ten quarters tawny with the rich sunlight, surpassing molten lac, of the flashing crest-jewels of the kings who watched him with faces hidden behind the ramparts, as if the light were the fire of his own majesty, flashing forth after his coronation. He saw the earth bright as if with his own glow of loyalty when anointed as heir-apparent, and the sky crimson as with the flame that heralded the swift destruction of his foes, and daylight roseate as with lac-juice from the feet of the Lakshmī of earth coming to greet him.

‘“On the way hosts of kings, with their thousand elephants swaying in confusion, their umbrellas broken by the pressure of the crowd, their crest-jewels falling low as their diadems bent in homage, (226) their earrings hanging down, and the jewels falling on their cheeks, bowed low before him, as a trusted general recited their names. The elephant Gandhamādana followed the prince, pink with much red lead, dangling to the ground his ear-ornaments of pearls, having his head outlined with many a wreath of white flowers, like Meru with evening sunlight resting on it, the white stream of Ganges falling across it, and the spangled roughness of a bevy of stars on its peak. Before Candrāpīḍa went Indrāyudha, led by his groom, perfumed with saffron and many-hued, with the flash of golden trappings on his limbs. And so the expedition slowly started towards the Eastern Quarter.248

‘“Then the whole army set forth with wondrous turmoil, with its forest of umbrellas stirred by the elephants’ movements, like an ocean of destruction reflecting on its advancing waves a thousand moons, flooding the earth.

(227) ‘“When the prince left his palace Vaiçampāyana performed every auspicious rite, and then, clothed in white, anointed with an ointment of white flowers, accompanied by a great host of powerful kings, shaded by a white umbrella, followed close on the prince, mounted on a swift elephant, like a second Crown Prince, and drew near to him like the moon to the sun. Straightway the earth heard on all sides the cry: ‘The Crown Prince has started!’ and shook with the weight of the advancing army.

(228) ‘“In an instant the earth seemed as it were made of horses; the horizon, of elephants; the atmosphere, of umbrellas; the sky, of forests of pennons; the wind, of the scent of ichor; the human race, of kings; the eye, of the rays of jewels; the day, of crests; the universe, of cries of ‘All hail!’

(228–234 condensed) ‘“The dust rose at the advance of the army like a herd of elephants to tear up the lotuses of the sunbeams, or a veil to cover the Lakshmī of the three worlds. Day became earthy; the quarters were modelled in clay; the sky was, as it were, resolved in dust, and the whole universe appeared to consist of but one element.

(234) ‘“When the horizon became clear again, Vaiçampāyana, looking at the mighty host which seemed to rise from the ocean, was filled with wonder, and, turning his glance on every side, said to Candrāpīḍa: ‘What, prince, has been left unconquered by the mighty King Tārāpīḍa, for thee to conquer? What regions unsubdued, for thee to subdue? (235) What fortresses untaken, for thee to take? What continents unappropriated, for thee to appropriate? What treasures ungained, for thee to gain? What kings have not been humbled? By whom have the raised hands of salutation, soft as young lotuses, not been placed on the head? By whose brows, encircled with golden bands, have the floors of his halls not been polished? Whose crest-jewels have not scraped his footstool? Who have not accepted his staff of office? Who have not waved his cowries? Who have not raised the cry of “Hail!”? Who have not drunk in with the crocodiles of their crests, the radiance of his feet, like pure streams? For all these princes, though they are imbued with the pride of armies, ready in their rough play to plunge into the four oceans; though they are the peers of the great kings Daçaratha, Bhagīratha, Bharata, Dilīpa, Alarka, and Māndhātṛi; though they are anointed princes, soma-drinkers, haughty in the pride of birth, yet they bear on the sprays of crests purified with the shower of the water of consecration the dust of thy feet of happy omen, like an amulet of ashes. By them as by fresh noble mountains, the earth is upheld. These their armies that have entered the heart of the ten regions follow thee alone. (236) For lo! wherever thy glance is cast, hell seems to vomit forth armies, the earth to bear them, the quarters to discharge them, the sky to rain them, the day to create them. And methinks the earth, trampled by the weight of boundless hosts, recalls to-day the confusion of the battles of the Mahābhārata.