Reading section 23

Nishadha's Lord--and bringing them, A thousand cows to that man will I give, And village-lands whence shall be revenue As great as from a city. If so be Ye cannot bring me Nala and my child, To him that learns their refuge I will give The thousand cows." Thereby rejoiced, they went, Those Bráhmans, hither and thither, up and down, Into all regions, rajaships, and towns, Seeking Nishadha's Chieftain, and his wife. But Nala nowhere found they; nowhere found Sweet Damayanti, Bhima's beauteous child-- Until, straying to pleasant Chedipur, One day a twice-born came, Sudêva named, And entered it; and, spying round about (Upon a feast-day by the King proclaimed), He saw forth-passing through the palace gate A woman--Bhima's daughter--side by side With young Sunandâ. Little praise had now That beauty which in old days shone so bright; Marred with much grief it was, like sunlight dimmed By fold on fold of wreathed and creeping mists. But when Sudêva marked the great dark eyes-- Lustreless though they were, and she so worn, So listless--"Lo, the Princess!" whispered he;-- "'Tis the King's daughter," quoth he to himself; And thus mused on:-- "Yea! as I used to see, 'Tis she! no other woman hath such grace! My task is done; I gaze on that one form, Which is like Lakshmi's, whom all worlds adore. I see the bosoms, rounded, dark, and smooth, As they were sister-moons; the soft moon-face Which with its queenly light makes all things bright Where it doth gleam; the large deep lotus-eyes, That, like to Rati's own, the Queen of Love, Beam, each a lovelit star, filling the worlds With longing. Ah, fair lotus-flower, plucked up By Fate's hard grasp from far Vidarbha's pool, How is thy cup muddied and slimed to-day! Ah, moon, how is thy night like to the eclipse When Rahu swallows up the silver round! Ah, tearless eyes, reddened with weeping him, How are ye like to gentle streams run dry! Ah, lake of lilies, where grief's elephant Hath swung his trunk, and turned the crystal black, And scattered all the blue and crimson cups, And frightened off the birds! Ah, lily-cup, Tender, and delicately leaved, and reared To blossom in a palace built of gems, How dost thou wither here, wrenched by the root, Sun-scorched and faded! Noblest, loveliest, best!-- Who bear'st no gems, yet so becomest them-- How like the new moon's silver horn thou art, When envious black clouds blot it! Lost for thee Are love, home, children, friends, and kinsmen; lost All joy of that fair body thou dost wear Only that it may last to find thy lord. Truly a woman's ornament is this:-- The husband is her jewel; lacking him She hath none, though she shines with priceless pearls; Piteous must be her state! And, torn from her, Doth Nala cling to life; or, day by day, Waste with long yearning? Oh, as I behold Those black locks, and those eyes--dark and long-shaped As are the hundred-petalled lotus-leaves-- And watch her joyless who deserves all joy, My heart is sore! When will she overpass The river of this sorrow, and come safe Unto its farther shore? When will she meet Her lord, as moon and moon-star in the sky Mingle? For, as I think, in winning her, Nala would win

his happy days again, And--albeit banished now--have back his lands. Alike in years and graces, and alike In lordly race these were: no bride could seem Worthy Nishadha, if it were not she; Nor husband worthy of Vidarbha's Pride, Save it were Nala. It is meet I bring Comfort forthwith to yon despairing one, The consort of the just and noble Prince, For whom I see her heart-sick. I will go And speak good tidings to this moon-faced Queen, Who once knew nought of sorrows, but to-day Stands yonder, plunged heart-deep in woful thought." So, all those signs and marks considering Which stamped her Bhima's child, Sudêva drew Nearer, and said: "Vidarbhi, Nala's wife, I am the Bráhmana Sudêva, friend Unto my lord, thy brother, and I come By royal Bhima's mandate, seeking thee. That Maharaja, thy father, dwells in health; Thy mother and thy house are well; and well-- With promise of long years--thy little ones, Sister and brother. Yet, for thy sake, Queen, Thy kindred sit as men with spirit gone; In search of thee a hundred twice-born rove Over all lands." But (O King Yudhisthir!) Hardly one word she heard before she broke With question after question on the man, Asking of this dear friend and that and this; All mingled with quick tears, and tender sighs, And hungry gazing on her brother's friend, Sudêva--best of Bráhmanas--come there. Which soon Sunandâ marked, watching them speak Apart, and Damayanti all in tears. Then came she to her mother, saying: "See, The handmaid thou didst give me talks below With one who is a Bráhman, all her words Watered with weeping; if thou wilt, demand What this man knows." Therewith swept forth amazed The mother of the Raja, and beheld How Nala's wife spake with the Bráhmana. Whom straight she bade them summon; and, being brought, In this wise questioned: "Knowest thou whose wife, Whose daughter, this one is; and how she left Her kin; and wherefore, being heavenly-eyed And noble-mannered, she hath wandered here? I am full fain to hear this; tell me all, No whit withholding; answer faithfully-- Who is our slave-girl with the goddess gait?" The Bráhmana Sudêva, so addressed, Seating himself at ease, unto the Queen Told Damayanti's story, how all fell. Sudêva said: "There reigns in majesty King Bhima at Vidarbha; and of him The Princess Damayanti here is child; And Virasena's son, Nala, is Lord Over Nishadha, praised-in-song and wise; And of that Prince this lady is the wife. In play his brother worsted Nala--stripped Of lands and wealth the Prince; who fled his realm, Wandering with Damayanti--where, none knew. In quest of Damayanti we have roamed The earth's face o'er, until I found her here In thy son's house, the King's--the very same, Since like to her for grace no woman lives Of all fair women. Where her eyebrows meet A pretty mole, born with her, should be seen A little lotus-bud--not visible By reason of the dust of toil which clouds Her face and veils its moon-like beauty--that The wondrous Maker on the rare work stamped To be His Mark. But as the waxing moon Goes thin and darkling for awhile, then rounds The crescent's rims with splendors, so this Queen Hath lost not

queenliness. Being now obscured, Soiled with the grime of chores, unbeautified, She shows true gold. The fire which trieth gold Denoteth less itself by instant heat Than Damayanti by her goodlihood. As first sight knew I her. She bears that mole." Whilst yet Sudêva spake (O King of men!), Sunandâ from the slave's front washed away The gathered dust, and forth that mark appeared 'Twixt Damayanti's brows, as when clouds break, And in the sky the moon, the night-maker, Glitters to view. Seeing the spot awhile, Sunandâ and the mother of the King Gazed voiceless; then they clasped her neck and wept Rejoicing, till the Queen, staying her tears, Exclaimed: "My sister's daughter, dear! thou art, By this same mark. Thy mother and myself Were sisters by one father--he that rules Daśarna, King Sudâman. She was given To Bhima, and to Virabahu I. Once at Daśarna, in my father's house, I saw thee, newly born. Thy race and mine, Princess, are one: henceforward, therefore, here As I am, Damayanti, shalt thou be." With gladdened heart did Damayanti bend Before her mother's sister, answering thus:-- "Peaceful and thankful dwelled I here with thee, Being unknown, my every need supplied, My life and honor by thy succor safe, Yet, Maharajni, even than this dear home One would be dearer: 'tis so many days Since we were parted. Suffer me to go Where those my tender little ones were led; So long--poor babes!--of me and of their sire Bereft. If, lady, thou dost think to show Kindness to me, this is my wish: to wend Unto Vidarbha swiftly; wilt thou bid They bear me thither?" Was no sooner heard That fond desire, than the queen-mother gave Willing command; and soon an ample troop, The King consenting, gathered for her guard. So was she sent upon a palanquin, With soldiers, pole-bearers, and meat and drink, And garments as befitted--happier--home. Thus to Vidarbha came its Pride again, By no long road; and joyously her kin Brought the sweet Princess in, and welcomed her. In peace and safety all her house she found; Her children well;--father and mother, friends. The gods she worshipped, and to Bráhmanas Due reverence made, and whatso else was meet That Damayanti did, regal in all. To wise Sudêva fell the thousand cows By Bhima granted, with the village-lands, And goodly gifts beside. But when there passed One night of rest within the palace-walls, The wistful Princess to her mother said:-- "If thou wouldst have me live, I tell thee true, Dear mother, it must be by bringing back My Nala, my own lord; and only so." When this she spake, right sorrowful became The Rani, weeping silently, nor gave One word of answer; and the palace-girls, Seeing this grief, sat round them, weeping too, And crying: "Haha! where is gone her lord?" And loud the lamentation was of all. Afterwards to the Maharaja his Queen Told what was said: "Lord! all uncomforted Thy daughter Damayanti weeps and grieves, Lacking her husband. Even to me she spake Before our damsels, laying shame aside:-- 'Find Nala; let the people of the court Strive day and night to learn where Nala is.'"

Then Bhima, hearing, called his Bráhmanas Patient and wise, and issued hest to go Into all regions, seeking for the Prince. But first, by mandate of the Maharaja, To Damayanti all those twice-born came, Saying: "Now we depart!" Then Bhima's child Gave ordinance: "To whatsoever lands Ye wend, say this--wherever gather men, Say this--in every place these verses speak:--

Whither art thou departed, cruel lover, Who stole the half of thy belovèd's cloth, And left her to awaken, and discover The wrong thou wroughtest to the love of both? She, as thou didst command, a sad watch keepeth, With woful heart wearing the rended dress. Prince, hear her cry who thus forever weepeth; Be mindful, hero; comfort her distress!

And, furthermore," the Princess said, "since fire Leaps into flame when the wind fans the spark, Be this too spoken, that his heart may burn:--

By every husband nourished and protected Should every wife be. Think upon the wood! Why these thy duties hast thou so neglected, Prince, that was called noble and true and good? Art then become compassionate no longer, Shunning, perchance, my fortune's broken way? Ah, husband, love is most! let love be stronger; _Ahimsa paro dharma_,[25] thou didst say.

These verses while ye speak," quoth the Princess, "Should any man make answer, note him well In any place; and who he is, and where He dwells. And if one listens to these words Intently, and shall so reply to them, Good Bráhmans, hold ye fast his speech, and bring, Breath by breath, all of it unto me here; But so that he shall know not whence ye speak, If ye go back. Do this unweariedly; And if one answer--be he high or low, Wealthy or poor--learn all he was and is, And what he would." Hereby enjoined, they went, Those twice-born, into all the lands to seek Prince Nala in his loneliness. Through towns, Cities and villages, hamlets and camps, By shepherds' huts and hermits' caves, they passed, Searching for Nala; yet they found him not; Albeit in every region (O my king!) The words of Damayanti, as she taught, Spake they again in hearing of all men. Suddenly--after many days--there came A Bráhman back, Parnâda he was called, Who unto Bhima's child in this wise spake:-- "O Damayanti, seeking Nala still, Ayodhyâ's streets I entered, where I saw The Maharaja; he--noble-minded one!-- Heard me thy verses say, as thou hadst said; Great Rituparna heard those very words, Excellent Princess; but he answered nought; And no man answered, out of all the throng Ofttimes addressed. But when I had my leave And was withdrawn, a man accosted me Privately--one of Rituparna's train, Vahûka named, the Raja's charioteer (Something misshapen, with a shrunken arm, But skilled in driving, very dexterous In cookery and sweetmeats). He--with groans, And tears which rolled and rolled--asked of my health, And then these verses spake full wistfully:--

'Even when their loss is largest, noble ladies Keep the true treasure of their hearts unspent, Attaining heaven through faith, which undismayed is By wrong, unaltered by abandonment; Such an one guards with virtue's golden shield Her name from harm; pious and pure and tender; And, though her lord forsook her, will not yield To wrath, even against that vile offender-- Even against the ruined, rash, ungrateful, Faithless, fond Prince from whom the birds did steal His only cloth, whom now a penance fateful Dooms to sad days, that dark-eyed will not feel Anger; for if she saw him she should see A man consumed with grief and loss and shame; Ill or well lodged, ever in misery, Her unthroned lord, a slave without a name.'

Such words I heard him speak," Parnâda said, "And, hastening thence, I tell them to thee, here; Thou knowest; thou wilt judge; make the King know." But Damayanti listened, with great eyes Welling quick tears, while thus Parnâda spake, And afterwards crept secretly and said Unto her mother: "Breathe no word hereof, Dear mother, to the King, but let me speak With wise Sudêva in thy presence here; Nothing should Bhima know of what I plan, But, if thou lovest me, by thee and me This shall be wrought. As I was safely led By good Sudêva home, so let him go-- With not less happy fortune--to bring back, Ere many days, my Nala; let him seek Ayodhyâ, mother dear, and fetch my Prince!" But first Parnâda, resting from his road-- That best of twice-borns--did the Princess thank With honorable words and gifts: "If home My Nala cometh, Bráhman!" so she spake, "Great guerdon will I give. Thou hast well done For me herein--- better than any man; Helping me find again my wandered lord." To which fair words made soft reply, and prayers For "peace and fortune," that high-minded one, And so passed home, his service being wrought. Next to Sudêva spake the sad Princess This (O my King!), her mother standing by:-- "Good Bráhman, to Ayodhyâ's city go. Say in the ears of Raja Rituparna, As though thou cam'st a simple traveller, 'The daughter of King Bhima once again Maketh to hold her high Swayamvara. The kings and princes from all lands repair Thither; the time draws nigh; to-morrow's dawn Shall bring the day. If thou wouldst be of it, Speed quickly, conquering King! at sunsetting Another lord she chooseth for herself; Since whether Nala liveth or is dead, None knoweth.'" These the words which he should say; And, learning them, he sped, and thither came-- That Bráhmana Sudêva--and he spake To Maharaja Rituparna so. Now when the Raja Rituparna heard Sudêva's words, quoth he to Vahûka Full pleasantly: "Much mind I have to go Where Damayanti holds Swayamvara, If to Vidarbha, in a single day, Thou deemest we might drive, my charioteer!" Of Nala, by his Raja thus addressed, Torn was the heart with anguish; for he thought:-- "Can Damayanti purpose this? Could grief So change her? Is it not some fine device For my sake schemed? Or doth my Princess seek, All holy as she was, this guilty joy, Being so wronged of me, her rash weak lord? Frail is a woman's heart, and my fault great! Thus might she do it, being far from home, Bereft of friends, desolate with long woes Of love for me--my slender-waisted one! Yet no, no, no! she would not--she that is My children's mother! Be it false or true, Best shall I know in going; therefore now The will of Rituparna must I serve." Thus pondering in his mind, the troubled Prince With joined palms meekly to his master said:-- "I shall thy hest accomplish! I can drive In one day, Raja, to Vidarbha's gates." Then in the royal stables--steed by steed, Stallions and mares, Vahûka scanned them all, By Rituparna prayed quickly to choose. Slowly he picked four coursers, under-fleshed, But big of bone and sinew; fetlocked well For journeying; high-bred, heavy-framed; of blood To match the best, yet gentle; blemish-free;

Broad in the jaw, with scarlet nostrils spread; Bearing the _Avarthas_, the ten true marks-- Reared on the banks of Indus, swift as wind. Which, when the Raja looked upon, he cried, Half-wrathful: "What thing thinkest thou to do? Wilt thou betray me? How should sorry beasts, Lean-ribbed and ragged, take us all that way, The long road we must swiftly travel hence?" Vahûka answered: "See on all these four The ten sure marks: one curl upon each crest, Two on the cheeks, two upon either flank, Two on the breast, and on each crupper one.[26] These to Vidarbha--doubt it not--will go; Yet, Raja, if thou wilt have others, speak; And I shall yoke them." Rituparna said:-- "I know thou hast deep skill in stable-craft; Yoke therefore such four coursers as thou wilt, But quickly!" Thus those horses, two by two, High-mettled, spare, and strong, Prince Nala put Under the bars; and when the car was hitched, And eagerly the Raja made to mount, At sign the coursers bent their knees, and lay Along the earth. Then Nala (O my King!), With kindly voice cheering the gaunt bright steeds, Loosed them, and grasped the reins, and bade ascend Varshneya: so he started, headlong, forth. At cry of Vahûka the four steeds sprung Into the air, as they would fly with him; And when the Raja felt them, fleet as wind, Whirling along, mute sat he and amazed; And much Varshneya mused to hear and see The thundering of those wheels; the fiery four So lightly held; Vahûka's matchless art. "Is Mâtali, who driveth Indra's car, Our charioteer? for all the marks of him Are here! or Sâlihotra can this be, The god of horses, knowing all their ways, Who here in mortal form his greatness hides? Or is it--can it be--Nala the Prince, Nala the steed-tamer?" Thus pondered he:-- "Whatever Nala knew this one doth know. Alike the mastery seems of both; alike I judge their years. If this man be not he, Two Nalas are there in the world for skill. They say there wander mighty powers on earth In strange disguises, who, divinely sprung, Veil themselves from us under human mould; Bewilderment it brings me, this his shape Misshappen--from conclusion that alone Withholds me; yet I wist not what to think, In age and manner like--and so unlike In form! Else Vahûka I must have deemed Nala, with Nala's gifts." So in his heart, Varshneya, watching, wondered--being himself The second charioteer. But Rituparna Sat joyous with the speed, delightedly Marking the driving of the Prince: the eyes Attent; the hand so firm upon the reins; The skill so quiet, wise, and masterful; Great joy the Maharaja had to see. By stream and mountain, woodland-path and pool, Swiftly, like birds that skim in air, they sped; Till, as the chariot plunged, the Raja saw His shoulder-mantle falling to the ground; And--loath to lose the robe--albeit so pressed, To Nala cried he, "Let me take it up; Check the swift horses, wondrous charioteer; And bid Varshneya light, and fetch my cloth," But Nala answered: "Far it lies behind; A yojana already we have passed; We cannot turn again to pick it up." A little onward Riturparna saw Within the wood a tall Myrobolan Heavy

with fruit; hereat, eager he cried:-- "Now, Vahûka, my skill thou mayest behold In the Arithmic. All arts no man knows; Each hath his wisdom, but in one man's wit Is perfect gift of one thing, and not more. From yonder tree how many leaves and fruits, Think'st thou, lie fall'n there upon the earth? Just one above a thousand of the leaves, And one above a hundred of the fruits; And on those two limbs hang, of dancing leaves, Five crores exact; and shouldst thou pluck yon boughs Together with their shoots, on those twain boughs Swing twice a thousand nuts and ninety-five!" Vahûka checked the chariot wonderingly, And answered: "Imperceptible to me Is what thou boastest, slayer of thy foes! But I to proof will put it, hewing down The tree, and, having counted, I shall know. Before thine eyes the branches twain I'll lop: How prove thee, Maharaja, otherwise, Whether this be or be not? I will count One by one--fruits and leaves--before thee, King; Varshneya, for a space, can rein the steeds." To him replied the Raja: "Time is none Now to delay." Vahûka answered quick (His own set purpose serving): "Stay this space, Or by thyself drive on! The road is good, The son of Vrishni will be charioteer!" On that the Raja answered soothingly:-- "There is not in the earth another man That hath thy skill; and by thy skill I look To reach Vidarbha, O thou steed-tamer! Thou art my trust; make thou not hindrance now! Yet would I suffer, too, what thou dost ask, If thou couldst surely reach Vidarbha's gate Before yon sun hath sunk." Nala replied:-- "When I have counted those vibhîtak boughs, Vidarbha I will reach; now keep thy word." Ill pleased, the Raja said: "Halt then, and count! Take one bough from the branch which I shall show, And tell its fruits, and satisfy thy soul." So leaping from the car--eager he shore The boughs, and counted; and all wonder-struck To Rituparna spake: "Lo, as thou saidst So many fruits there be upon this bough! Exceeding marvellous is this thy gift, I burn to know such learning, how it comes." Answered the Raja, for his journey fain:-- "My mind is quick with numbers, skilled to count; I have the science." "Give it me, dear Lord!" Vahûka cried: "teach me, I pray, this lore, And take from me my skill in horse-taming." Quoth Rituparna--impatient to proceed-- Yet of such skill desirous: "Be it so! As thou hast prayed, receive my secret art, Exchanging with me here thy mastery Of horses." Thereupon did he impart His rules of numbers, taking Nala's too. But wonderful! So soon as Nala knew That hidden gift, the accursed Kali leapt Forth from his breast, the evil spirit's mouth Spewing the poison of Karkôtaka Even as he issued. From the afflicted Prince That bitter plague of Kali passed away; And for a space Prince Nala lost himself, Rent by the agony. But when he saw The evil one take visible shape again-- Free from the serpent's poison--Nishadha's Lord Had thought to curse him then; but Kali stood With clasped palms trembling, and besought the Prince, Saying: "Thy wrath restrain, Sovereign of men! I will repay thee well. Thy virtuous wife,