KATHA SARIT SAGARA Chapter LXXXVIII (Vetála)

Chapter LXXXVIII

(Vetála)

 

Then king Trivikramasena went to the aśoka-tree, and again got hold of the Vetála, and took him on his shoulder; and when the king had set out, the Vetála again said to him, “King, you are tired; so listen, I will tell you an interesting tale.

 

Story of the Merchant’s daughter who fell in love with a thief

 

There is a city of the name of Ayodhyá, which was the capital of Vishṇu, when he was incarnate as Ráma, the destroyer of the Rákshasa race. In it there lived a mighty king, of the name of Víraketu, who defended this earth, as a rampart defends a city. During the reign of that king there lived in that city a great merchant, named Ratnadatta, who was the head of the mercantile community. And there was born to him, by his wife Nandayantí, a daughter named Ratnavatí, who was obtained by propitiating the deities. And that intelligent girl grew up in her father’s house, and as her body grew, her innate qualities of beauty, gracefulness, and modesty developed also. And when she attained womanhood, not only great merchants, but even kings asked her in marriage from her father. But she disliked the male sex so much that she did not desire even Indra for a husband, and would not even hear of marriage, being determined to die, sooner than consent to it. That made her father secretly sorrow much, on account of his affection for her, and the report of her conduct spread all over the city of Ayodhyá.

 

At that time all the citizens were continually being plundered by thieves, so they assembled together, and made this complaint to king Víraketu; “Your Majesty, we are continually being robbed by thieves every night, and we cannot detect them, so let your Highness take the necessary steps.” When the king had received this petition from the citizens, he stationed watchmen in plain clothes all round the city, in order to try and discover the thieves.

 

But they could not find them out, and the city went on being robbed; so one night the king himself went out to watch; and as he was roaming about armed, he saw in a certain part of the town a single individual going along the rampart. He shewed great dexterity in his movements, as he made his footfall perfectly noiseless, and he often looked behind him with eyes anxiously rolling. The king said to himself, “Without doubt this is the thief, who sallies out by himself and plunders my city;” so he went up to him. Then the thief, seeing the king, said to him, “Who are you,” and the king answered him, “I am a thief.” Then the thief said, “Bravo! you are my friend, as you belong to the same profession as myself; so come to my house, I will entertain you.” When the king heard that, he consented, and went with him to his dwelling, which was in an underground cavern in a forest. It was luxuriously and magnificently furnished, illuminated by blazing lamps, and looked like a second Pátála, not governed by king Bali.

 

When the king had entered, and had taken a seat, the robber went into the inner rooms of his cave-dwelling. At that moment a female slave came and said to the king, “Great Sir, how came you to enter this mouth of death? This man is a notable thief; no doubt, when he comes out from those rooms, he will do you some injury: I assure you, he is treacherous; so leave this place at once.” When the king heard this, he left the place at once, and went to his own palace and got ready his forces that very night.

 

And when his army was ready for battle, he came and blockaded the entrance of that robber’s cave with his troops, who sounded all their martial instruments. Then the brave robber, as his hold was blockaded, knew that his secret had been discovered, and he rushed out to fight, determined to die. And when he came out, he displayed superhuman prowess in battle; alone, armed with sword and shield, he cut off the trunks of elephants, he slashed off the legs of horses, and lopped off the heads of soldiers. When he had made this havoc among the soldiers, the king himself attacked him. And the king, who was a skilful swordsman, by a dexterous trick of fence forced his sword from his hand, and then the dagger which he drew; and as he was now disarmed, the king threw away his own weapon, and grappling with him, flung him on the earth, and captured him alive. And he brought him back as a prisoner to his own capital, with all his wealth. And he gave orders that he should be put to death by impalement next morning.

Now, when that robber was being conducted with beat of drum to the place of execution, that merchant’s daughter Ratnavatí saw him from her palace. Though he was wounded, and his body was begrimed with dust, she was distracted with love as soon as she saw him, so she went and said to her father Ratnadatta, “I select as my husband this man here, who is being led off to execution, so ransom him from the king, my father; if you will not, I shall follow him to the other world.” When her father heard this he said, “My daughter, what is this that you say? Before you would not accept suitors endowed with all virtues, equal to the god of love. How comes it that you are now in love with an infamous brigand chief?” Though her father used this argument, and others of the same kind with her, she remained fixed in her determination. Then the merchant went quickly to the king, and offered him all his wealth, if he would grant the robber his life. But the king would not make over to him, even for hundreds of crores of gold pieces, that thief who had robbed on such a gigantic scale, and whom he had captured at the risk of his own life. Then the father returned disappointed, and his daughter made up her mind to follow the thief to the other world, though her relations tried to dissuade her; so she bathed, and got into a palanquin, and went to the spot where his execution was taking place, followed by her father and mother and the people, all weeping.

 

In the meanwhile the robber had been impaled by the executioners, and as his life was ebbing away on the stake, he saw her coming there with her kinsfolk. And when he heard the whole story from the people, he wept for a moment, and then he laughed a little, and then died on the stake. Then the merchant’s virtuous daughter had the thief’s body taken down from the stake, and she ascended the funeral pyre with it.

 

And at that very moment the holy Śiva, who was invisibly present in the cemetery, spake from the air, “Faithful wife, I am pleased with thy devotedness to thy self-chosen husband, so crave a boon of me.” When she heard that, she worshipped and prayed the god of gods to grant her the following boon, “Lord, may my father, who has now no sons, have a hundred, for otherwise, as he has no children but me, he would abandon his life.” When the good woman had said this, the god once more spake to her, saving, “Let thy father have a hundred sons! choose another boon; for such a steadfastly good woman, as thou art, deserves something more than this.”

 

When she heard this, she said, “If the Lord is pleased with me, then let this husband of mine rise up alive, and be henceforth a well conducted man!” Thereupon Śiva, invisible in the air, uttered these words, “Be it so; let thy husband rise up alive, and lead henceforth a life of virtue, and let king Víraketu be pleased with him!” And immediately the robber rose up alive with unwounded limbs.

 

Then the merchant Ratnadatta was delighted, and astonished at the same time; and with his daughter Ratnavatí and the bandit his son-in-law, and his delighted relations, he entered his own palace, and as he had obtained from the god the promise of sons, he held a feast suitable to his own joy on the occasion. And when king Víraketu heard what had taken place, he was pleased, and he immediately summoned that heroic thief, and made him commander of his army. And thereupon the heroic thief gave up his dishonest life, and married the merchant’s daughter, and led a respectable life, honoured by the king.

 

When the Vetála, seated on the shoulder of king Trivikramasena, had told him this tale, he asked him the following question, menacing him with the before-mentioned curse; “Tell me, king, why that thief, when impaled, first wept and then laughed, when he saw the merchant’s daughter come with her father.” Then the king said; “He wept for sorrow that he had not been able to repay the merchant for his gratuitous kindness to him; and he laughed out of astonishment, as he said to himself, ‘What! has this maiden, after rejecting kings who asked for her hand, fallen in love with me? In truth a woman’s heart is an intricate labyrinth.’” When the king had said this, the mighty Vetála, by means of the magic power which he possessed, again left the king’s shoulder and returned to his station on the tree, and the king once more went to fetch him.