Hindoo Tales Part 1

Hindoo Tales.

by Translated by P. W. Jacob.

PREFACE.

The Sanscrit work ent.i.tled "Dasak.u.maracharitam, or the Adventures of Ten Princes," though printed more than twenty-five years ago, has not, as far as I can ascertain, been translated into any European language.

Many parts of it are written in such a turgid "Oriental" style, that a close translation would be quite unsuitable to the English reader.

Such pa.s.sages have therefore been much condensed; others, which are hardly decent--or, as in the speech of the parasite in the last story, tedious and uninteresting, have been omitted; but in general the original has been pretty closely adhered to, and nothing has been added to it.

The exact date of the composition of the "Dasak.u.maracharitam" is not known. It is supposed to have been written about the end of the eleventh century, and was left unfinished by the author; but as the story of the last narrator is almost finished, not much could have been wanting to complete the work, and the reader may easily imagine what the conclusion would have been.

Some of the incidents correspond with those of the "Arabian Nights,"

but the stories on the whole are quite different from anything found there, and give a lively picture of Hindoo manners and morals.

Unscrupulous deception, ready invention, extreme credulity and superst.i.tion, and disregard of human life, are strongly ill.u.s.trated.

The belief in the power of penance, which was supposed to confer on the person practising it not merely personal sanct.i.ty, but even great supernatural powers, was very generally entertained among the Hindoos, and is often alluded to here; as is also transmigration, or the birth of the soul after death in a new body, human or brute. Sufferings or misfortunes are attributed to sins committed in a former existence, and in more than one story two persons are supposed to recollect having many years before lived together as husband and wife.

Much use also is made of the agency of supernatural beings; for besides numerous G.o.ds, the Hindoos believe, or at least believed, in the existence of innumerable beings, in some degree immortal, but liable to be killed even by men, swarming in the air, generally invisible, but sometimes a.s.suming a human or a more terrible form; occasionally beneficent, but more commonly injurious to human beings.

At the time when the original work was written, India appears to have been divided into a large number of small kingdoms or princ.i.p.alities, the rulers of which are here termed "Raja," a word almost adopted into our language, but which. I have rendered by the equivalent and more familiar term "King."

The numerous uncouth names, which cannot well be shortened or translated, will, it is feared, cause some annoyance to the reader. As many as possible have been omitted, and of those which occur a list is given in the Appendix, together with a few terms which seemed to require explanation. This will save the reader the trouble of, referring, when a name recurs, to the place where it is first mentioned in order to find out to whom it belongs.

The Appendix also contains a few pages of a very close literal translation, which will enable the reader to form some idea of the nature and style of the original, and to see how far it has been departed from in the preceding pages.

P. W. J.

GUILDFORD, _December_, 1872.

p.r.o.nUNCIATION OF PROPER NAMES.

The vowel _a_, is always to be p.r.o.nounced as in father.

The vowel _a_, as in America, or as u in dull, i in bird, &c.

The vowel _e_, always as a in cake.

The vowel _i_, as e in cede, or ee in reed.

The vowel _i_, as in pin.

The vowel _u_, as in flute.

The vowel _u_, as in bull.

Pati is therefore p.r.o.nounced putty, &c.

There was formerly, in the most fertile part of India, a city called Pushpapuri, the capital of Magadha, magnificent as a mine of jewels, abounding in every kind of wealth, surpa.s.sing all other cities in splendour and prosperity.

The sovereign of this city and country was Rajahansa, whose armies were formidable with countless elephants and horses, whose glory was unsullied as the moon in a cloudless sky, or the plumage of the swan, and whose fame was sung even by celestial minstrels. Though a terror to his enemies, he was beloved by all his subjects, and especially by the learned and pious brahmans, who were continually employed in prayers and sacrifices to the G.o.ds, for the welfare of the king and his people.

The queen Vasumati was worthy of such a husband. She was of high birth and of a sweet temper, and so great was her beauty that it seemed as if the G.o.d of love had formed her for his own special delight, by uniting in her single person everything that is most beautiful in the world.

Among the king's counsellors were three appointed to the highest offices of state, men of great probity and intelligence, who had been long in his father's service and enjoyed his entire confidence. Their names were, Dharmapala, Padmodbhava, and Sitavarma.

The first of these had three sons, Sumantra, Sumittra, and Kamapala; the second, two, Susruta and Ratnodbhava; and the last had also two, Sumati and Satyavarma.

Of these sons the last-mentioned renounced worldly cares and employments, devoted himself to religious meditation, and leaving home as a pilgrim, travelled into many countries in order to visit the holy places which they contained.

Kamapala was of an opposite character; he thought only of present pleasure, frequented the company of gamblers and harlots, and roamed about the world seeking amus.e.m.e.nt and dissipation.

Ratnodbhava became a merchant, and in the way of traffic made many long journeys by land and sea. The other sons, after their fathers'

death, succeeded to their offices, according to the custom of the country. When Rajahansa had reigned some years, war broke out between him and the king of the adjoining country of Malwa, the haughty and ambitious Manasara, whom he marched to encounter with a numerous army, making the earth tremble with the tread of his elephants, and disturbing even the dwellers in the sky with the clang of kettledrums louder than the roar of the stormy ocean.

Both armies were animated by equal rage, and terrible was the battle; the ground where they met was first turned to dust by the wheels of the chariots and the trampling of men and beasts, and then into mud through the streams of blood which flowed from the slain and wounded.

At last Rajahansa was victorious, the enemy was completely defeated, their king taken prisoner, and all Malwa lay open to the conqueror.

He, however, having no wish to enlarge his dominions, released his prisoner on very easy terms, and returning to Pushpapuri, thought only of governing his own kingdom in peace, not expecting after such generous treatment any further trouble from his ambitious neighbour.

Though prosperous and happy in every other respect, the King of Magadha had one great cause of sorrow and anxiety--he had no son to succeed him. Therefore, at this time he made many prayers and offerings to Narayana the Creator of the World, who, having been thus propitiated, signified to the queen in a dream that she would bear a son; and not long afterwards her husband was gratified by the news of her pregnancy.

When the proper time arrived the king celebrated the ceremony called Simanta[1] with great magnificence, and invited several of the neighbouring kings to be present on the occasion; among them was the King of Mithila, with his queen, a great friend of Vasumati--to congratulate whom she had accompanied her husband.

One day after this, when the king was sitting in council with his ministers, he was informed that a certain venerable Yati was desirous to see him. On his admission the king perceived that he was one of his secret emissaries; dismissing, therefore, the rest of the counsellors, he withdrew to a private apartment, followed by one or two of his most confidential ministers and the supposed Yati. He, bowing down to the ground, said in answer to the king's inquiry, "In order the better to perform your Majesty's commands, I have adopted this safe disguise, and have resided for some time in the capital of Malwa, from whence I now bring very important news. The haughty Manasara, brooding over his defeat, unmindful of your generous forbearance, and only anxious to wipe off his disgrace, has been for a long time endeavouring to propitiate with very severe penance the mighty Siva, whose temple is at Mahakala, and he has so far succeeded that the G.o.d has given him a magic club, very destructive of life and conducive to victory."

"Through this weapon, and the favour of Siva, he now thinks himself a match for you. He has for some time been strengthening his army, and will probably very soon invade this country. Your Majesty having received this information, will decide what ought to be done."

On hearing this report the ministers consulted together and said to the king, "This enemy is coming against us favoured by the G.o.ds, and you cannot hope to resist him; we therefore advise that you should avoid fighting, and retire with your family and treasure to a strong fortress."

Although they urged this advice with many reasons, it was not acceptable to the king, who determined to march at the head of his army against the invaders. When, however, the enemy had actually entered the country, the ministers succeeded in persuading their master to send away the queen and her attendants, and a part of the treasure, to a strong fortress in the forest of Vindhya, guarded by veteran soldiers.

Presently the two armies met, the battle raged furiously, and Manasara, eagerly seeking out his former conqueror, at last encountered his chariot. Wielding the magic club, with one blow he slew the charioteer and caused the king to fall down senseless.

The horses being freed from control, suddenly turned round, dashed off at full speed from the field, and never stopped till, utterly exhausted, they had dragged the chariot with the still insensible king very near to the fortress to which the queen had retreated.

Meanwhile, some of the fugitives from the battle, having reached the fortress, told the queen what had happened, and she, overwhelmed by grief at the death of her husband, determined not to survive him.

Perceiving her purpose, the old brahmans and faithful counsellors, who had accompanied her, endeavoured, to dissuade her, saying, "O glorious lady, we have no certain information of the king's death: moreover, learned astrologers have declared that the child to be born of you is destined to become a mighty sovereign, therefore do not act rashly or end so precious a life while the least hope remains."

Apparently influenced by these reasons, eloquently urged, the queen remained silent, and seemed to renounce her purpose, but at midnight, unable to sleep, and oppressed by intolerable grief, she rose up, and evading her sleeping attendants and the guards outside, went into the forest, and there, after many pa.s.sionate lamentations and prayers that she might rejoin her beloved husband, she formed a rope by twisting a part of her dress, and was preparing to hang herself with it from the branch of a tree, very near to the place where the chariot was standing concealed by the thick foliage.

Just then the king, revived by the cool night wind, recovered consciousness, and hearing his wife's voice, softly called her by name. She, hardly believing her senses for joy, cried out loudly for help, and soon brought to her a.s.sistance some of the attendants, who carried him gently into the fort, where his wounds were dressed and found not to be dangerous.