Part 16

'"From the very first Candrapida had been filled with reverence by her beauty, modesty, and courtesy; by the charm of her speech, her unselfishness and her austerity; and by her serenity, humility, dignity, and purity. But now he was carried away both by the story of her life, which showed her noble character, and by her devoted spirit, and a fresh tenderness arose in him. With softened heart he gently said: 'Lady, those may weep who fear pain, and are devoid of gratitude, and love pleasure, for they are unable to do anything worthy of love, and show their affection merely by vain tears. But thou who hast done all rightly, what duty of love hast thou left undone, that thou weepest? For Pundarika's sake, thy kinsfolk who from thy birth have been around thee, dear as they were, have been forsaken as if they were strangers. (338) Earthly pleasures, though at thy feet, have been despised and reckoned light as grass. The joys of power, though their riches excelled the empire of Indra, have been resigned. Thy form has been emaciated by dread penances, even though by nature it was slender as a lotus-stalk. Thou hast taken the ascetic vow. Thy soul has been devoted to great penance. Thou hast dwelt in the woods, hard though it be for a woman. Moreover, life is easily resigned by those whom sorrow has overwhelmed, but it needs a greater effort not to throw away life in heavy grief. This following another to death is most vain! It is a path followed by the ignorant! It is a mere freak of madness, a path of ignorance, an enterprise of recklessness, a view of baseness, a sign of utter thoughtlessness, and a blunder of folly, that one should resign life on the death of father, brother, friend, or husband. If life leaves us not of itself, we must not resign it. For this leaving of life, if we examine it, is merely for our own interest, because we cannot bear our own cureless pain. To the dead man it brings no good whatever. For it is no means of bringing him back to life, or heaping up merit, or gaining heaven for him, or saving him from hell, or seeing him again, or being reunited with him. (339) For he is led helplessly, irresistibly to another state meet for the fruits of his own deeds. And yet he shares in the guilt of the friend who has killed himself. But a man who lives on can help greatly, by offerings of water and the like, both the dead man and himself; but by dying he helps neither. Remember how Rati, the sole and beloved wife of Love, when her noble husband, who won the hearts of all women, was burnt up by the fire of Çiva, yet did not yield her life; and remember also Kunti, of the race of Vrishni, daughter of Surasena, for her lord was Pandu the wise; his seat was perfumed by the flowers in the crests of all the kings whom he had conquered without an effort, and he received the tribute of the whole earth, and yet when he was consumed by Kindama's curse she still remained alive. Uttara, too, the young daughter of Virata, on the death of Abhimanyu, gentle and heroic, and joyful to the eyes as the young moon, yet lived on. And Duhçalya, too, daughter of Dhritarashtra, tenderly cared for by her hundred brothers; when Jayadratha, king of Sindhu, was slain by Arjuna, fair as he was and great as he had become by Çiva's [288] gift, yet made no resignation of her life. (340) And others are told of by thousands, daughters of Rakshasas, gods, demons, ascetics, mortals, siddhas and Gandharvas, who when bereft of their husbands yet preserved their lives. Still, where reunion is doubtful, life might be yielded. But for thee, thou hast heard from that great being a promise of reunion. What doubt can there be in a matter of thine own experience, and how could falsehood find a place in the words of such noble truth-speaking saints, even when there might be greater cause? And what union could there be between the dead and the living? Therefore of a surety that wondrous being was filled with pity and carried away Pundarika to heaven solely to bring him back to life. For the power of great men transcends thought. Life has many aspects. Destiny is manifold. Those skilled in penance are fitted for wondrous miracles. Many are the forms of power gained by previous actions. Moreover, however subtly we may consider the matter, what other cause can we imagine for Pundarika's being taken away, but the gift of fresh life. And this, thou must know, is not impossible. It is a path often trodden. (341) For Pramadvara, daughter of Viçvavasu, king of the Gandharvas and Menaka, lost her life through a poisonous snake at the hermitage of Sthulakeça, and the young ascetic Ruru, son of Pramati and grandson of the Bhrigu Cyavana, provided her with half his own life. And when Arjuna was following the Açvamedha steed, he was pierced in the van of the battle by an arrow from his own son Babhruvahana, and a Naga maiden, Ulupa, brought him back to life. When Parikshit, Abhimanyu's son, was consumed by Açvatthama's fiery dart, though he had already died at birth, Krishna, filled with pity by Uttara's lament, restored his precious life. And at Ujjayini, he whose steps are honoured by the three worlds, carried off from the city of death the son of Sandipani the Brahman, and brought him back. [289] And in thy case, too, the same will somehow come to pass. For by thy present grief, what is effected or what won? Fate is all-powerful. Destiny is strong. We cannot even draw a breath at our own will. The freaks of that accursed and most harsh destiny are exceeding cruel. A love fair in its sincerity is not allowed long to endure; for joys are wont to be in their essence frail and unlasting, while sorrows by their nature are long-lived. (342) For how hardly are mortals united in one life, while in a thousand lives they are separated. Thou canst not surely then blame thyself, all undeserving of blame. For these things often happen to those who enter the tangled path of transmigration, and it is the brave who conquer misfortune.' With such gentle and soothing words he consoled her, and made her, albeit reluctantly, bathe her face with water brought in his joined hands from the cascade.

'"Straightway the sun began to sink, as if he were leaving the day's duties from grief at hearing Mahaçveta's story. Then day faded away; the sun hung shining red as the pollen of a cluster of priyangu in full blossom; the quarters of space were losing the glow of sunset soft as silk dyed in the juice of many lotuses; (343) the sky was tinged with red, glowing like the pupils of a partridge, [290] while its blue was hidden; twilight was reddening and lighting up the earth, tawny as a pigeon's eye; the clusters of stars shone forth, vying with each other; the darkness of night was deepening into black, and stealing away the broad path of the stars with its form dark as a forest buffalo; the woodland avenues seemed massed together as their green was hidden by deep gloom; the wind wandered cooled by night-dew, with its path tracked by the perfume of the wild flowers as it stirred the tangle of trees and creepers; and when night had its birds all still in sleep Mahaçveta slowly rose, and saying her evening prayers, washed her feet with water from the pitcher and sat down with a hot, sorrowful sigh on her bark couch. Candrapida, too, rose and poured a libation of water strewn with flowers, said his evening prayer, and made a couch on the other rock with soft creeper boughs. As he rested upon it he went over Mahaçveta's story again in his mind. 'This evil Love,' thought he, 'has a power hard alike to cure and to endure. For even great men, when overcome by him, regard not the course of time, but suddenly lose all courage and surrender life. Yet all hail to Love, whose rule is honoured throughout the three worlds!' (344) And again he asked her: 'She that was thy handmaiden, thy friend in the resolve to dwell in the woods, and the sharer of the ascetic vow taken in thy sorrow--Taralika, where is she?' 'Noble sir,' she replied, 'from the race of Apsarases sprung from ambrosia of which I told you, there was born a fair-eyed daughter named Madira, [291] who married King Citraratha, the king whose footstool was formed of the buds in the crests of all the Gandharvas. Charmed by her countless virtues, he showed his favour by giving her the title of Chief Queen, bearing with it cowrie, sceptre and umbrella, marked by a golden throne, and placing all the zenana below her--a woman's rarest glory! And, as they pursued together the joys of youth in their utter devotion to each other, a priceless daughter was in due time born to them, by name Kadambari, most wondrous, the very life of her parents, and of the whole Gandharva race, and even of all living beings. From her birth she was the friend of my childhood, and shared with me seat, couch, meat and drink; on her my deepest love was set, and she was the home of all my confidence, and like my other heart. Together we learnt to dance and sing, and our childhood passed away free from restraint in the sports that belong to it. (345) From sorrow at my unhappy story she made a resolve that she would in nowise accept a husband while I was still in grief, and before her girl friends she took an oath, saying: "If my father should in anywise or at any time wish to marry me against my will and by force, I will end my life by hunger, fire, cord, or poison." Citraratha himself heard all the resolution of his daughter, spoken of positively in the repeated gossip of her attendants, and as time went on, seeing that she was growing to full youth, he became prey to great vexation, and for a time took pleasure in nothing, and yet, as she was his only child and he dearly loved her, he could say nothing to her, though he saw no other resource. But as he deemed the time now ripe, he considered the matter with Queen Madira, and sent the herald Kshiroda to me at early dawn with the message: "Dear Mahaçveta, our hearts were already burnt up by thy sad fate, and now this new thing has come upon us. To thee we look to win back Kadambari." Thereupon, in reverence to the words of one so respected, and in love to my friend, I sent Taralika with Kshiroda to bid Kadambari not add grief to one already sad enough; (346) for if she wished me to live she must fulfil her father's words; and ere Taralika had been long gone, thou, noble sir, camest to this spot.' So saying she was silent.

'"Then the moon arose, simulating by his mark the heart of Mahaçveta, burnt through by the fire of grief, bearing the great crime of the young ascetic's death, showing the long ingrained scar of the burning of Daksha's curse, [292] white with thick ashes, and half covered by black antelope skin, like the left breast of Durga, the crest-jewel of Çiva's thick locks. (347) Then at length Candrapida beheld Mahaçveta asleep, and quietly lay down himself on his leafy couch and fell asleep while thinking what Vaiçampayana and sorrowing Patralekha and his princely compeers would then be imagining about him.

'"Then at dawn, when Mahaçveta had honoured the twilight and was murmuring the aghamarshana, and Candrapida had said his morning prayer, Taralika was seen coming with a Gandharva boy named Keyuraka (348). As she drew near, she looked long at Candrapida, wondering who he might be, and approaching Mahaçveta, she bowed low and sat respectfully by her. Then Keyuraka, with head low bent even from afar, took his place on a rock some way off, assigned to him by a glance from Mahaçveta, and was filled with wonder at the sight of Candrapida's marvellous beauty, rare, mocking that of gods, demons, Gandharvas, and Vidyadharas, and surpassing even the god of love.

(349) '"When she had finished her prayers, Mahaçveta asked Taralika, 'Didst thou see my dear Kadambari well? and will she do as I said?' 'Princess,' said Taralika, in a very sweet voice, with head respectfully inclined, 'I saw Princess Kadambari well in all respects, and told her all thine advice; and what was her reply, when with a continuous stream of thick tears she had heard it, that her lute-player Keyuraka, whom she has sent, shall tell thee;' and as she ceased Keyuraka said, 'Princess Mahaçveta, my lady Kadambari, with a close embrace, sends this message, "Is this, that Taralika has been sent to tell me, said to please my parents or to test my feelings, or to subtly reproach me for my crime in dwelling at home; or is it a desire to break our friendship, or a device to desert one who loves her, or is it simply anger? Thou knowest that my heart overflows with a love that was inborn in me. How wert thou not ashamed to send so cruel a message? Thou, erst so soft of speech, from whom hast thou learnt to speak unkindness and utter reproach? Who in his senses would, even if happy, make up his mind to undertake even a slight matter that would end in pain? how much less one like me, whose heart is struck down by deep grief? For in a heart worn by a friend's sorrow, what hope is there of joy, what contentment, what pleasures or what mirth? (350) How should I fulfil the desire of Love, poisonous, pitiless, unkind, who has brought my dear friend to so sad a plight? Even the hen cakravaka, when the lotus-beds are widowed by the sun's setting, renounces from the friendship that arises from dwelling among them, the joys of union with her lord; how much more, then, should women! While my friend dwells day and night sorrowing for the loss of her lord and avoiding the sight of mankind, how could anyone else enter my heart; and while my friend in her sorrow tortures herself with penances and suffers great pain, how could I think so lightly of that as to seek my own happiness and accept a husband, or how could any happiness befall me? For from love of thee I have in this matter accepted disgrace by embracing an independent life contrary to the wont of maidens. I have despised noble breeding, transgressed my parent's commands, set at nought the gossip of mankind, thrown away modesty, a woman's inborn grace; how, tell me, should such a one go back? Therefore I salute thee, I bow before thee, I embrace thy feet; be gracious to me. As thou hast gone hence into the forest, taking my life with thee, make not this request in thy mind, even in a dream."' (351) Thus having said, he became silent, and Mahaçveta thought long, and then dismissed Keyuraka, saying, 'Do thou depart; I will go to her and do what is fitting.' On his departure she said to Candrapida, 'Prince, Hemakuta is pleasant and the royal city of Citraratha marvellous; the Kinnara country is curious, the Gandharva world beautiful, and Kadambari is noble and generous of heart. If thou deemest not the journey too tedious, if no serious business is hindered, if thy mind is curious to behold rare sights, if thou art encouraged by my words, if the sight of wonders gives thee joy, if thou wilt deign to grant my request, if thou thinkest me worthy of not being denied, if any friendship has grown up between us, or if I am deserving of thy favour, then thou canst not disdain to fulfil this prayer. Thou canst go hence with me, and see not only Hemakuta, that treasure of beauty, but my second self, Kadambari; and having removed this foolish freak of hers, thou canst rest for one day, and return hither the next morn. For by the sight of thy kindness so freely [293] given, my grief has become bearable, since I have told thee my story, breathed out as it was from a heart long overwhelmed with the darkness of grief. (352) For the presence of the good gives joy even to those who are sad at heart, and a virtue springs from such as thou art that wholly tends to make others happy.'

'"'Lady,' replied Candrapida, 'from the first moment of seeing thee I have been devoted to thy service. Let thy will be imposed without hesitation'; so saying, he started in her company.

'"In due time he reached Hemakuta, the royal city of the Gandharvas, and passing through the seven inner courts with their golden arches, the prince approached the door of the maidens' dwelling. Escorted by porters, who ran forward at the sight of Mahaçveta, bowing while yet far off, and holding their golden staves, he entered and beheld the inside of the maidens' palace. It seemed a new woman's world, consisting wholly of women in countless numbers, as if the womankind of the three worlds had been gathered together to make such a total; or it might be a fresh manless creation, a yet unborn continent of girls, a fifth women's era, a fresh race created by Prajapati out of hatred for men, or a treasury of women prepared for the making of many yugas. The wave of girlish beauty which surrounded it on all sides, which flooded space, sprinkled nectar on the day, rained splendour on the interstices of the world, and shone lustrous as an emerald, made the place all aglow as if with thousands of moons; (353) it seemed modelled in moonlight; jewels made another sky; service was done by bright glances; every part was made for youthful pleasures; here was an assemblage for Rati's sports, a material for Love's practice; here the entrance of all was made smooth by Love; here all was affection, beauty, the supreme deity of passion, the arrows of Love, here all was wonder, marvel, and tenderness of youth. (356) When he had gone a little way in he heard the pleasant talk of the maidens round Kadambari as they wandered hither and thither. Such as 'Lavalika, deck the lavali trenches with ketaki pollen. Sagarika, sprinkle jewelled dust in the tanks of scented water. Mrinalika, inlay with saffron dust the pairs of toy [294] cakravakas in the artificial lotus-beds. Makarika, scent the pot-pourri with camphor-juice. Rajanika, place jewelled lamps in the dark tamala avenues. Kumudika, cover the pomegranates with pearly nets to keep off the birds. Nipunika, draw saffron lines on the breasts of the jewelled dolls. Utpalika, sweep with golden brooms the emerald arbour in the plaintain house. Kesarika, sprinkle with wine the houses of bakul flowers. Malatika, redden with red lead the ivory roof of Kama's shrine. Nalinika, give the tame kalahamsas lotus-honey to drink. Kadalika, take the tame peacocks to the shower-bath. Kamalinika, give some sap from the lotus-fibres to the young cakravakas. Cutalatika, give the caged pigeons their meal of mango-buds. Pallavika, distribute to the tame haritala pigeons some topmost leaves of the pepper-tree. Lavangika, throw some pieces of pippali leaves into the partridges' cages. Madhukarika, make some flowery ornaments. Mayurika, dismiss the pairs of kinnaras in the singing-room. Kandalika, bring up the pairs of partridges to the top of the playing hill. Harinika, give the caged parrots and mainas their lesson.'

(358) '"Then he beheld Kadambari herself in the midst of her pavilion encircled by a bevy of maidens sitting by her, whose glittering gems made them like a cluster of kalpa trees. [295] (359) She was resting on her bent arms, which lay on a white pillow placed on a small couch covered with blue silk; she was fanned by cowrie-bearers, that in the motion of their waving arms were like swimmers in the wide-flowing stream of her beauty, as if it covered the earth, which was only held up by the tusks of Mahavaraha.

'"And as her reflection fell, she seemed on the jewelled pavement below to be borne away by serpents; on the walls hard by to be led by the guardians of space; on the roof above to be cast upwards by the gods; to be received by the pillars into their inmost heart; to be drunk in by the palace mirrors, to be lifted to the sky by the Vidyadharas scattered in the pavilion, looking down from the roof; to be surrounded by the universe concealed in the guise of pictures, all thronging together to see her; to be gazed at by the palace itself, which had gained a thousand eyes to behold her, in that the eyes of its peacocks' tails were outspread as they danced to the clashing of her gems; and to be steadily looked on by her own attendants, who seemed in their eagerness to behold her to have gained a divine insight.

'"Her beauty bore the impress of awakening love, though but yet in promise, and she seemed to be casting childhood aside like a thing of no worth.

(365) '"Such was Kadambari as the prince beheld her. Before her was seated Keyuraka, loud in praise of Candrapida's beauty, as Kadambari questioned him, saying, 'Who is he, and what are his parentage, name, appearance, and age? What did he say, and what didst thou reply? How long didst thou see him? how has he become so close a friend to Mahaçveta? and why is he coming hither?'

'"Now, on beholding the moonlike beauty of Kadambari's face, the prince's heart was stirred like the tide of ocean. 'Why,' thought he, 'did not the Creator make all my senses into sight, or what noble deed has my eye done that it may look on her unchecked? Surely it is a wonder! The Creator has here made a home for every charm! Whence have the parts of this exceeding beauty been gathered? Surely from the tears that fell from the Creator's eyes in the labour of thought, as he gently moulded her with his hands, all the lotuses in the world have their birth.'