सामग्री पर जाएँ
सर्वकोश
संग्रह पर लौटें

विक्रम चरित (उज्जैन सम्राट् विक्रमादित्य - पराक्रम, न्याय एवं ३२ पुतलियों की कथा सटीक)

Vikram Charita or Adventures of Vikramaditya King of Ujjain

कवि हरिदास / परम्परा द्वारा

DevanagariHindipublished308 पृष्ठ

126
to the palace. ‘No,’ thought he, ‘she has abandoned the
enjoyments of a court for my sake, escaped from the hands
of a ravisher, and is perhaps even now engaged in tracing
me out. Oh! would that I could meet her soon!’
“The thief went on his journey, and travelled till he
arrived at the anashutre which Malattee, under the name of
Soomunt, had ordered, where he dined upon the dainty
dishes provided for him as well as for others of his class,
and was then conducted by an attendant to the king, to
receive the virah. When Malattee saw him she recognised
him at once, and questioned him closely as to why he had
assumed the garb of a mendicant, and what were the
reasons that had induced him to lead a rambling life. The
thief was for a time completely dumbfoundered, but he
soon regained his courage, and related everything connected
with his distressing case, as he called it,—how he had gained
a fair lady, and how he had been cheated by her. He said
that he had adopted the habit he then wore as a punishment
for the folly he had been guilty of. She laughed at the
tale, and asked him how he had allowed himself to be thus
tricked. ‘Alas!’ replied the thief, ‘I lost her as I have
already had the honor of telling your majesty, but can your
majesty inform me how she can be regained?’ ‘I can,
very well,’ rejoined the king, ‘but henceforth do not
trouble yourself about her; remain, however, at the
anashutre, where you will get your meals, and be content.’
The thief promised obedience, and remained there, as the
king had directed.
“Prince Soomunt having sojourned for many days at
Vodajagonath, at last set out on his way. He happened
to travel the road leading to the anashutre in the city where
his beloved Malattee had established herself—the city of
Pooshapamuny. The princess had given strict orders that
no person should pass along that way without partaking of
the anashutre; so the men, observing the prince, made
known to him the orders of the king, and entreated his
presence, as they had that of others who had preceded him;

127

but Prince Soomunt would not attend to their request.
The men knew that if they forced the holy man the king
would be displeased with them, and they feared also that
Soomunt would curse them: he looked so grave and threat-
ening that they drew back with a sort of instinctive dread,
and hesitated to use violence. Our Manbhavy, however,
promised to wait there until they had communicated his
reply to their master; one of them, accordingly, went
forward to the king, and acquainted him with the circum-
stances. The king was much pleased with the account he
received of this Manbhavy or mendicant: he thought he
would prove to be some holy man; he therefore bade the
minister go with the attendant, and request him, on the
part of the king, to favor the court with his presence. The
minister accordingly went out to where Soomunt was, and,
approaching the prince, threw himself at his feet, very
earnestly and most cordially inviting him to the anashutre.
Soomunt told him that he had for a long time past refrained
from the use of all delicacies in the shape of food, and that
it was therefore of no use their endeavouring to prevail
upon him to be present at the anashutre. The minister
then desired Soomunt to favour him by waiting there until
he had informed his master of his reply, on which Soomunt
looked displeased at the minister, and said, 'Why should I
wait here while you go and inform your master of what I
have said? He may be a very good and honorable king
to you, but to me the rich and the poor are both alike.
Therefore, I pray you, let me go.' The minister tried all
the means in his power to induce him to remain, and at
last, after having expended almost the whole store of his
arguments, he prevailed upon the Manbhavy to wait until
he had reported the matter to the king. Accordingly, the
minister went to the palace, and told the king all that had
occurred. Malattee listened with much astonishment, and
decided that it would be unworthy of them to allow the
mendicant to depart without entertaining him. As may
well be imagined, Prince Soomunt was her daily thought

128
and her nightly dream, and it now struck her, strangely
enough, that perhaps this might prove to be Soomunt him-
self. As this idea crossed her mind, she ordered a horse to
be brought to her immediately, and having mounted, she
rode out to the spot where the Manbhavy was impatiently
awaiting permission to prosecute his journey. She soon
distinguished him, seated on a stone in the road, and as her
eye rested on him she recognised her long-lost and dear
Prince Soomunt! She rode up to him, prostrated herself
at his feet, and, with clasped hands and glistening eyes, paid
him pure and earnest adoration, after the manner prescribed
by the Hindu law for a devotee. She then entreated him
to accompany her to her abode, but the Manbhavy replied,
‘No; I have no business at your majesty’s palace, since, as
I have already told your minister, I have taken a vow against
partaking of dainties.’ ‘No matter,’ replied Malattee; ‘I
shall feel highly obliged by your kindly complying with my
request; and I hope and trust that the Almighty will in
due time restore you to your former position and happiness.’
She managed, after much persuasion, to prevail upon him
to accompany her to the palace in a palanquin. When
they had arrived there, the king and the mendicant
adjourned to a private apartment, and the former desired the
latter to make known the cause of his present disguise.
‘You need not,’ said the king, ‘be under any apprehension.
Speak freely.’ Prince Soomunt, seeing the king so eager to
learn his secret, immediately told him all, adding, ‘When I
returned from the palace with the garland, which I recovered
in the chamber of the Gowrihar, and found that my beloved
Malattee was not where I had left her, I searched every
tree, one by one, thinking I might have missed the right
one, but all to no purpose,—she was nowhere to be found!
I then made as much haste as I could to escape the
pursuit of my uncle, who would, I had no doubt, when he
became aware of our absence, send troops out in search of
us. Next morning, by sunrise, I had assumed the disguise
you now see me in, and have since travelled through cities

129
innumerable, but have hitherto gained no tidings of my
beloved! I at last thought she might have returned to her
father’s palace, but I have since learned the contrary from
a wicked thief, in the disguise of a mendicant, who told me
how he had taken her away that night from the grove, and
how he was cheated by her under a pretext she formed of
sending him to purchase provisions in the market, during
which interval she escaped. This thief has also, for her
sake, assumed the same disguise as myself. Since I parted
from him up to the present moment, I have been almost a
stranger to rest,—uneasiness of mind and the fatigues of
the journey have totally banished sleep!’ The Princess
Malattee could not but be touched at the recital of the
hardships and sufferings her beloved had undergone. How-
ever, she curbed her inclination a little longer, and said,
‘Well, mendicant, do you intend to wander in search of
her any more? She may be in some unknown place; if
so, how can you expect to find her? She may ere now
have found another lover, still more handsome than your-
self; how then is it possible you can recover her from his
hands? I would advise you to search for her no more.
Live here happily with me: I will procure for you an
excellent and beauteous lady who will respect you in a far
greater degree than did your beloved Malattee.’ ‘Oh,
gracious king!’ said Soomunt in reply, ‘pray hear me.
With regard to women, I have sworn that they shall all be
alike to me: I will never look on one save as a mother or
a sister.’ He then showed her the garland which he had
always carried about with him, at sight of which, and the
associations connected with it then crowding upon her mind,
she was deeply affected, and could scarcely conceal her
emotion. ‘Do you think,’ said she, ‘that if your Malattee
were to meet you in this place you would know her again?’
‘She cannot be here,’ replied he; ‘and I beg you will
excuse me for refusing to accept your invitation to remain.
I would rather that this body of mine should fall gradually
into decay, than that I should prove false to Malattee, and
R

130
break an oath so solemnly made.' When Malattee saw he was
not to be moved from his purpose, she said, 'Your Malattee
may have married some other person.' 'No,' replied he;
'your majesty must be aware that if she wished to marry
any other, she would have married the man whom her father
had with much trouble and expense procured for her;
besides, she has sworn to look upon no other man save as
a father or a brother. I am therefore quite easy on that
head, knowing that nothing but death can sever us.'
Hearing this, Malattee indulged in an immoderate fit of
laughter. 'I hope,' said she, still laughing, 'you will now
enjoy that happiness with your beloved Malattee which you
have been so long deprived of, for she is now within my
palace!' She desired him to wait there a moment, and
she would bring her to him. She then went into her
private apartments, took off her kingly robes, and, attiring
herself in her marriage suit, with the ornaments she had
worn on the day of their separation, she re-entered the room
where Soomunt was in waiting. He recognised her at the
first glance, ran to her, and tenderly embraced her. 'Ah!
how much I am indebted to the king,' exclaimed he, 'who
has so agreeably surprised me! Why does he not return,
that I may thank him?' 'Do not expect to see the king
any more,' replied the princess, with tears of joy in her
eyes, 'but let us sit down, and I will explain the mystery
to you.'
"They sat down, after the joy of Soomunt at this unex-
pected meeting had subsided, and the princess informed
him of every circumstance that had befallen her since the
night on which the garland had caused their separation, and
also that the thief was then at the anashutre. They then
began to express their gratitude to heaven, and to thank
each other for their constancy in the most affectionate terms
that true love could dictate. The prince chid Malattee
gently for allowing him to remain so long in her presence
without making herself known to him, but she prostrated
herself before him, soliciting his pardon for it; and then

131

conducted him to a bath, which had been previously ordered
to be prepared. On his return she took off his travelling
garb, and arrayed him in a suit of unusual value and
richness.
"It would be impossible to convey any just idea of
Prince Soomunt's joy. He was heard to say to himself,
'Oh, the dear and generous princess! What a treasure
has this day been restored to me! I thank heaven for
guiding my steps to this city. It gives me cause to hope
that a long life of happiness is before me—even more than
my heart can be said to desire.' The next day Malattee
did not appear in her kingly garb, but having dressed
herself like one of her own sex, and as became her position
in life, she sent for one of the officers, and ordered him to
summon the minister to her apartment forthwith. When
the minister entered the chamber, in obedience to the com-
mand of his king, he was surprised to see a lady of such
extraordinary beauty there, and whom he had never before
seen. The princess, however, put an end to his conjectures
at once, by entering upon a relation of her own and Prince
Soomunt's history. He listened to her in silence and
admiration. When she had ended the narrative, she direct-
ed him to manage the affairs of her government, with as
much care and diligence as possible, for the space of a
month from that day, as she would not appear in court until
her beloved Soomunt was perfectly recovered from the indis-
position attendant upon his long and harassing journey.
She would, however, give him all the assistance in her
power during her temporary absence from the public.
"The Princess Malattee entertained the prince with a
series of the most magnificent festivals, such as royalty
alone could command: and every care and attention being
at the same time bestowed on the restoration of his health,
the prince, before the expiration of the month, had regained
his usual strength and spirits, and was in all respects pre-
pared to enter into any business of weight and importance.
He now appeared to the princess, after the rest and comfort

132
he had enjoyed, far more handsome than ever : his finely-
moulded limbs, his noble air, and the majesty of his person,
all combined to render him one of the handsomest men,
in all respects, ever seen.
“ Shortly after this, Malattee summoned the minister
and other nobles of the court, and acquainted them with
her intention of placing Soomunt on the throne in her
stead. They seemed much pleased to hear this, and there
was not a single dissentient voice raised against the proposi-
tion. They each and all congratulated the prince, with
much warmth-and sincerity, and he was speedily placed
upon the throne, amidst great and gorgeous celebrations,
and with the usual ceremonies on such occasions. The
new king was proclaimed throughout the city, and in all the
adjacent places; and for several days together there was
one continual flow of all that could tend to heighten the
joy and increase the pleasure of the people at such an event.
The rejoicings extended all over the kingdom, and couriers
were despatched to different parts to make the event known
far and near. Prince Soomunt entered into the business
of state with so much confidence and majesty, and displayed
such tact and ability, that he gained the admiration and
well-merited approbation of all his subjects, so that they
became, if possible, more than ever pleased with their
sovereign ; and everything prospered under his wise and
discreet rule.
“ The prince and princess (whom we must henceforth
designate the king and queen) thus continued to live
happily together for a considerable time. One morning,
the queen began to take a retrospective view of their past
lives, when it occurred to her that Queen Shoodhamutty
might perhaps at that moment be suffering the deepest and
most inconsolable grief for the loss of her only son, as she
had had no opportunity of hearing from him since the
night on which he absconded from the palace. She there-
fore mentioned the matter to her husband, and desired him
to write to the king her father, acquainting him with all

133
that had befallen them since they left the palace, and with
their present situation, as also with the nature of the oath
that had been exchanged between them, and which was the
cause of their elopement. King Soomunt immediately set
about doing as he was desired, and wrote the letter, in
which he dwelt at some length on the sufferings and hard-
ships both himself and Malattee had undergone ere they
had finally arrived at their present state of happiness, and
respectfully, but in very forcible terms, pleaded their youth
and the ardour of their love in extenuation of the indiscre-
tion they had committed in leaving the palace, at the same
time expressing deep regret for the consequent uneasiness
and alarm they had caused their respective parents; he also
affectionately and earnestly besought their forgiveness,
more particularly that of his mother. When Soomunt had
finished the letter, and sealed it, he despatched it by a
trusty officer, and directed him to use all haste in delivering
it to the king his uncle. When the officer arrived at the
city, he went directly to the palace, and, having disclosed
his mission, he was immediately taken before the king
(Malattee’s father). The officer prostrated himself before
the monarch in the usual manner, and, after a short speech
of deference and respect, presented the letter. The king
perused it, and was much pleased with the eloquent and
masterly style in which it was written; he immediately
sent for his sister, and read it over again to her. In doing
so, he paid a just compliment to her son by extolling his
qualifications and merit in the highest possible terms.
“The receipt of the intelligence contained in Soomunt’s
letter naturally enough caused much joy, and to none more
so than the widowed Shoodhamutty, whose happiness in
learning that her son was living and in the enjoyment of
good fortune and power, was indeed indescribable. So
great was also the king’s joy, that he ordered the intelligence
to be published abroad, lest he should be overpowered with
it by locking it up within his own bosom. ‘It would be too
much,’ thought he, ‘so I must even share it.’

134
“The king did not omit to distribute sugar in his city,
as was usual when any great and joyous event occurred, in
order that he might testify his delight. He ordered grand
preparations to be made, and his equipage prepared, as he
intended paying a visit to his nephew and daughter. Every-
thing being ready, the king, with his sister, the royal family,
and all the nobles and courtiers, set out on their journey.
When their retinue drew near the city of Pooshapamuny,
King Soomunt, who had received notice of it, went out to
meet them, accompanied by his beloved Malattee and all
the chiefs of his court. King Soomunt and the lovely
Malattee were richly and magnificently dressed, with tiaras
of diamonds encircling their brows, and otherwise decorated
in a profuse manner with pearls and precious stones.. King
Soomunt rode on an elephant very richly caparisoned, and
the handsome Malattee was carried in a palanquin decked
out in the most gorgeous manner. They left the city amid
the sounding of trumpets and hautboys, and the beating of
drums. The meeting took place, and on both sides there
was great emotion displayed. Soomunt and Malattee both
affectionately embraced their royal parents, and they were
in turn met with many expressions of love and esteem, and
numberless sincere congratulations. The past was forgotten
in the present. They then entered the city, amid the
deafening shouts of all the assembled townspeople.
“ King Soomunt conducted his uncle and mother to his
rich and noble palace, and entertained them with every
imaginable care and attention. Next day the marriage
ceremony between king Soomunt and the faithful Malattee
was solemnised, and great was the rejoicing throughout the
whole city. The hearts of the lowly brahmins, as well as
those of the more favored children of the clime, were alike
gladdened by the rich presents and profuse liberality which
characterised the proceedings of the day. King Soomunt
was loaded with costly presents from his father-in-law ; and,
at the conclusion of all, the royal guests set forward on
their return, excepting Queen Shoodhamutty, who remained

135
with her son, having decided on spending her declining
years under his protection.
“ King Soomunt and his lovely bride lived happily, sur-
rounded with wealth and power, and in the enjoyment of
contentment and peace, until they were, in the usual course
of nature, gathered to their forefathers.”
The Shaloonky, having finished her tale, told the Princess
Pudmavuntty and the disguised brahmin that that was all
she had to say, and immediately took her flight from the
chowrung, and disappeared in the wall.

136
CHAPTER IX.
Veytal returns, in the shape of a peacock, and commences to relate the
history of King Rutnamanee, his son Sewdass, Hurridass the Prime
Minister's son, and the Princess Moheeny.
WHEN the Shaloonky had departed, a peacock appeared
in her place. Vickramadetea, the disguised brahmin,
seeing it, and knowing full well that it was the Veytal again,
who had assumed that guise, requested the bird to amuse
them with a tale. “Oh!” said the peacock, “I am ready
to oblige you, but cannot do so unless the princess expresses
her willingness to humour you in this respect.” The
Princess Pudmavuntty could not contain herself for laughter,
in which she indulged for awhile, and then bade the peacock
proceed. Before, however, the bird began his tale, he
bowed to the brahmin, and begged to be permitted to express
a hope that her highness and the company at large would
be pleased to hearken attentively to what he was about to
relate, as it would prove, he thought, much more entertain-
ing and amusing than they perhaps anticipated. Those
assembled in the room promised their best attention, and
the bird thus began:—
“There was once a city called Rutnapoory, where, at one
period, reigned a wise and discreet king named Rutna-
mance. His kingdom, which was very populous, was at
peace with all the neighbouring dominions. Rutnamance
had a minister named Vichakshun, and they were both
men of virtue, and possessed of many good qualities, which
rendered them objects of great love and respect to all who
came within the sphere of their influence. Rutnamanee
had also a son named Sewdass, who had a favourite official
attached to his train, called Hurridass, the son of his father's

minister. “They were both young men of promise and
education, and, being almost of the same age and engaged
in similar pursuits, they conceived a liking for each other,
which soon ripened into friendship. They passed nearly the
whole of their time together, and were never happy but in
each other's society. The king found that this intimacy
interfered with his arrangements for his son's future pros-
pects in life, and he was therefore determined at all hazards
to put an end to their intercourse if possible. He called
Sewdass to him one day, and kindly said, ‘ My son, you
have now nearly arrived at the age of discretion, and how
is it that you spend so much of your valuable time, which
should be more usefully and profitably engaged, in the
company of my minister's son, in frivolous undertakings
and unprofitable tasks ? You can gain nothing by his
conversation, for he is greatly your inferior. You might
spend your time in laying up stores of knowledge, in the
study of the various branches of science, and in the improve-
ment of your mind, by preparing it for the duties you may
be called upon to perform at a future period. Turn, then,
my son, from the path you are now pursuing into that
which must lead you to honour, fame, and renown.’ Thus
spoke the good king, but, alas ! how short-lived was the
impression of this fatherly admonition on the young prince !
Not that he was totally devoid of feeling and respect for his
royal parent, but his strong affection for the minister's son
carried all before it, and would not admit of his giving him
up altogether.
“ The minister one day found the king in a very angry
mood, and the latter, conscious of having been observed by
the former, said to him, ‘ Vichakshun, you have come at a
time when my wrath is greatly kindled. Know you not
what my commands were touching the intimacy and friend-
ship which exists between Prince Sewdass and your son ?
Have I not commanded that it should be discontinued ? I
now give you to understand that if you do not exert your
influence to put an immediate stop to it, you will incur my
S

138
severe displeasure, and I shall be put to the disagreeable
necessity of dealing with you and your son in a manner
suited to the occasion, so as effectually to prevent the
growing intimacy.' The minister was alarmed at the words
of the king, and, falling on his knees before his sovereign,
begged forgiveness for his son's temerity, and for his own
seeming neglect. 'I assure your majesty,' said he, 'that I
constantly pursue my son with threats and persuasions in
order to prevent his intercourse with the prince, but he pays
no attention to my repeated remonstrances. I shall now
proceed to extremities, if nothing else can effect it.' He
then bowed and retired.
"On the minister's return home, he summoned his son
before him, and informed him of what the king had said.
Hurridass seemed to regret very much that he had given so
much offence to his majesty, and faithfully pledged his word
never more to seek the prince. The next morning Hurridass
received a message, as usual, from the prince, requesting
him to attend upon him as speedily as possible, but Hurri-
dass wrote back to the prince that he could not, after what
had passed between the king and his father, again hazard
an interview with him, as it would inevitably call down the
ire as well of his father as of the king. He entered into a
minute detail of all that had occurred, and of the subsequent
injunctions which had been laid upon him, and concluded
by begging the prince most earnestly to dispense with his
company until the king should become more favorable to
their intimacy. This reply caused the affectionate prince
much pain and uneasiness. He never could have believed
of his friend that he would consent to remain away from
him on such a slight pretext, without even venturing to see
him. He could but ill disguise the dissatisfaction he felt
at his father's proceeding, and he resolved upon sending for
his friend again, notwithstanding the king's prohibition.
He accordingly sent another messenger, requesting Hurri-
dass to come, if it were only to afford an opportunity for
fuller explanation of the circumstances mentioned in his

139
note. The minister’s son, however, was resolved upon not
disobliging his father and the king. He refused, saying
that he could not visit the prince after what had happened,
nor would he on any account disobey the orders he had
received. He desired the messenger to acquaint the prince
with this determination on his part. Prince Sewdass was
lost in amazement and grief, being ignorant of the best
means to adopt in such a predicament. At last he resolved
on calling upon Hurridass in person, and no sooner was
this resolution formed than he hastened to put it into
execution. He burst into Hurridass’ room, and, half-choked
with grief, in a tone of supplication conjured him, by all
that was sacred in friendship, to acquaint him with the
cause of so sudden a change in his demeanour towards him.
‘If,’ said the prince, ‘it is on account of what my father
has said, how foolish it is on your part to attach such weight
and importance to his words! True enough, he has said
that our intimacy must cease, but it was in a fit of passion;
he surely could not have really meant it. I am sure he did
not intend to separate us thus for ever. Dispel such
scrupulosities, my dear Hurridass, and once more return to
the arms of your friend—your brother.’ ‘Prince,’ replied
Hurridass, after having allowed his friend to give vent to
his emotions, which could not but be flattering to him, as
they supplied an additional proof, if one were wanted, of the
sincerity and disinterestedness of the prince’s friendship,
‘Prince, the king your father has so willed it, and has
repeatedly told my father so, there can therefore be no mis-
take. I cannot disobey my father’s commands on any
account, much as my heart is with you. Be generous,
prince, and excuse me. I have sworn never again to be
seen in your company unless your father (he alone can do
it) absolves me from my oath by rescinding his orders.
Besides, were I to act in opposition to the direct and
oft-repeated injunctions of the king, it would only lead to
the ruin, not alone of myself, but of my own parent, and
would also, I fear, bring disgrace and opprobrium on you.

140
I regret the circumstances as much as you by any possibi-
lity can do, but what alternative have we? I trust, however,
that you will, by the blessing of God, succeed in all your
undertakings, and become prosperous, but it must be with-
out me. I am not permitted to share in it. I beg, there-
fore, that you will not prolong the pain this interview brings
with it, but leave me to brood over my misfortune, which
is in itself sufficient, and almost more than I can bear,
without witnessing your distress. Leave me, prince, I
beseech you!' 'What means all this, Hurridass?' asked
the prince; 'can it be that you have, without a struggle,
at once resolved upon shutting me out from your heart?
The difficulties that now surround us cannot but give way
before our united efforts. Oh, recal then those cruel and
unfeeling words of yours! Say that you will still be my
friend,—that we shall again meet, though it may be at a
distant time, more distant, perhaps, than my heart can be
reconciled to, but let me still be sustained with the hope
that the friendship—the brotherly love and affection—which
I have lavished on you are not unrequited, and I will be
content—at least I will strive to be so. But do not—oh,
— do not doom me to despair, by extinguishing the last faint
gleam of hope!' 'Ah, prince! why do you thus distress
yourself and me by struggling against fate? Destiny over-
rules all our inclinations, all our wishes, and, alas! all our
hopes and aspirations! What I have said is not said of
my own accord, but with the severest pang that my heart
ever experienced. I say it because I know and am
convinced that it must be so. Adieu, prince! may you
soon regain your usual composure.' 'This day, then,
shall be my last!' cried the prince with great vehemence,
as Hurridass attempted to cut short the interview by
withdrawing himself; 'and why delay when an opportunity
is thus presented?' continued he distractedly, as, eyeing
a sabre hanging on the wall, he rushed up to it, seized it
in a determined manner, and attempted to bury the
blade in his bosom. Hurridass, nimbly stepping up,

141
fortunately succeeded in arresting his uplifted arm. ‘What
deed of wickedness are you about to perpetrate?’ demanded
he; ‘do you wish to hurry yourself into eternity with all
your misdeeds and imperfections on your head? Is this
the morality and wisdom which you have learnt from our
holy religion? Do you not fear God? Desist, I pray you
desist!’ ‘I fear God, and none else,’ replied the now
desperate prince; ‘but as life has no longer any charms
for me, what is left me but to die?’ Hurridass replied,
‘Do not rush headlong to destruction. Bide your time.
He who lives in the fear of God, and places his dependence
on Him, may rest in peace; no real evil can befal him.
What may appear as trials to the short-sighted vision of
man, are but blessings in disguise. Losses, disappoint-
ments, bereavements, and pains, ought each and all to be
looked upon as corrections and admonitions dealt out by a
fatherly hand, and therefore blessings. Let a man but
have patience, and put his faith in the Almighty, and he
will surmount all the difficulties that may present themselves
to him. You must be aware of all this, my dear prince,
and yet you are so rash and intemperate as to attempt to
lay violent hands on yourself, and thus to sacrifice a life so
precious as yours is to all—to me in particular! Alas!
your rashness makes me relent: I cannot, considering the
resolve that has now taken possession of your mind,—of
putting an end to your existence if we do not continue our
friendship,—hesitate a moment to do as you wish, though
at a great and imminent personal hazard to myself.
‘What!’ exclaimed the wretched prince, ‘do you hold out
hopes for me?’ ‘I was going to say,’ continued Hurri-
dass, ‘that I consider I should be endangering your life
were I to refuse compliance with your wishes; I must
therefore even swerve from my determination’—‘And
consent!’ cried the prince. ‘You have said it,’ replied
Hurridass; ‘I must resolve on leaving my parents and home
on your account. Let us not be rash, however, but give
the subject a few hours’ consideration.’ ‘Tush!’ cried the

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prince; 'no more evasion! You have consented to my
proposals; and only on one condition do I return the
sword to its place—that you do not go back from your
word.' They then affectionately embraced each other, and
mingled their tears, after which, lest they should be seen
together by the minister, they retired to a secluded place
for the purpose of deliberating on their future movements.
After a few minutes spent in conversation, Hurridass said,
'Will you, my dear prince, allow me to make the first pro-
position? I feel convinced that it will meet your approval.'
'I shall, I am sure, have no voice apart from yours,' replied
the prince; 'pray go on.' 'It is expedient,' continued
Hurridass, 'that we forthwith leave this city, the scene of
our happy childhood, and travel to some other clime more
congenial to our present condition and circumstances,
where we may uninterruptedly enjoy each other's society in
peace and contentment, and thus ensure for ourselves
that serenity of mind which is necessary for the devoting
ourselves to the various branches of art and science. There,
too, when not otherwise engaged, we can indulge ourselves
in works of charity and benevolence—visit the saints, and
— give alms to the poor; and there we may, if God so wills
it, die together, and let our dust be mingled within the
small compass of one and the same grave. To remain here
and continue our intimacy would be to bring ruin on our-
selves: our fathers will most assuredly discard us, and
perhaps do us some greater injury. What say you, my
dear prince?' 'Be it so,' replied Sewdass; 'your counsel
is good, and you have displayed your usual soundness of
judgment in it. I also perceive, more than ever, the goodness
of your heart and the sincerity of your kind regard for me.'
Having thus determined on leaving the city together, they
retired to make the necessary preparations, promising to
meet the next day at a certain time and place which had been
agreed upon between them. They hastily provided them-
selves with some money and other necessaries essential for
the journey, and at the appointed hour the youths met at

143
the rendezvous, whence, after a cordial greeting, they set
forth, without making any one a party to their design.
“On the day of their departure, the king arose at his
usual hour, and, having bathed himself, as was his custom,
proceeded to the apartment allotted to the purpose of medi-
tation, there to pour forth his thanks to his beneficent
Creator. In his prayers he did not omit his son Sewdass,
on whom he called down the blessings of heaven, little
dreaming that he had rebelled against him, and was at that
moment far from his birth-place and anxious parent, with-
out having given him the slightest notice or intimation of
his intention. The king, having ended his devotions, em-
ployed the intermediate time till noon in his court. After
the labours of the day were over, he retired to take his
usual meal, and was surprised at not finding his son in his
customary place, as he had hitherto never failed to be pre-
sent. He sent a messenger to the minister’s house to see
if he was there with Hurridass, but no—he was not there.
The king then ordered him to be sought for in all the places
where he thought he was likely to be, yet he was not found.
King Rutnamanee on this became agitated and alarmed,
especially when he heard that the minister was also engaged,
with equally bad success, in searching for his son. He
immediately ordered the different parts of the city to be
searched closely, as well as the roads leading from it: but
the youths, having had a good many hours’ start, were out
of reach, and jogging along quite pleasantly, without inter-
ruption. The minister also, as has been said, was looking
everywhere for his son, and loudly deploring his absence;
and on his servants informing him that he had not been
seen since the previous night, no doubt was left on the
anxious father’s mind that Sewdass and Hurridass had left
the city together. He immediately presented himself before
the king, and communicated his suspicions. The latter was
sorely grieved at the turn affairs had thus unexpectedly
taken, and asked the minister of he had not been cognisant
of the intended departure of the two youths, and if so, why.

144
he had not taken the necessary precautions to prevent their
carrying it out. The minister said that he knew nothing
of it till the moment of his majesty's sending a messenger
for the prince. The king then asked whether his orders
regarding his son had been communicated to the youth.
'May it please your majesty,' said the minister, 'I distinctly
informed my son of the instructions I had received from
your majesty, and told him in addition that if he disregarded
the matter, not only would he himself be a sufferer, but
likewise I, his father. My son promised to obey me; but
upon enquiry, I understand that yesterday morning the
Prince Sewdass sent a messenger to request my son to wait
upon him, but he returned a direct refusal, whereupon a
second messenger came with a like message, and succeeded
no better than the first. The prince, however, being bent
upon having an interview, came in person the third time,
and burst into my son's apartment. They then conversed
for some time, were afterwards seen to retire to a secluded
place, and have not since been seen or heard of. It is to
be presumed that as your majesty was pleased to lay them
under some restraint regarding their frequent meetings and
growing intimacy, they have evaded your majesty's control,
in order that they may give free scope to their inclinations.
Such being the case, I would take the liberty of suggesting
to your majesty the propriety of setting some portion of the
troops in motion. Let them be sent out to the several
neighbouring provinces, with instructions to scour the coun-
try far and wide.' The king immediately acted on the
minister's suggestion, and despatched numerous horsemen
in all directions. The greatest exertions were made by
them, but all without avail : they were fain to return, after
a fruitless search. The king was grieved to learn that no
trace of them could be found; and the minister and his
family were also thrown into deep distress. His majesty
again summoned his minister, and had another consultation
with him, but neither of them could suggest a plan likely to
result in the capture of the runaways. They became now

145

thoroughly convinced that the king's commands were the
sole cause of the step the youths had taken ; and they even
went the length of surmising that the young men might, in
a fit of desperation, have put an end to their lives. This
affected them more seriously than ever, and made the two
fathers wretched indeed. The minister, however, hoped for
the best ; and on his observing the king weighed down by
this last idea, he tried to rouse him from his lethargic state
of distress by exhorting him not to allow such sad specula-
tions to dwell on his mind. He counselled him to look to
God for the restoration of the prince, as he (the minister)
did for the recovery of his own son. He besought him not
to despair, for that all would yet be well. ' Come what
will,' said Vichakshun in conclusion, ' it is the duty of
every good man to bow with meek submission to the will of
Him who does everything for the best, and who is ever
ready to listen to the prayers and supplications of his crea-
tures.' These words from the minister, who was a truly
good and wise man, greatly encouraged the king, who became
calmer, and at length determined to leave the issue to God,
who alone could help him out of the anguish into which the
loss of his only son—the heir to his throne, and the prop
of his old age—had plunged him. The minister, finding
the king's usual composure somewhat restored, retired from
his presence.
" We must now see what has become of Prince Sewdass
and his companion and bosom-friend Hurridass. As they
prosecuted their journey, they frequently thought and talked
of their parents, and pictured vividly to themselves the
distress and sorrow which they would feel when their flight
became known. Thus they went on through many a town
and village, across rivers and streams, over steep and
rugged mountains. They did not in their travels ignore the
promptings of their generous and benevolent dispositions,
but visited the huts of the poor, and administered such
comfort as they could. They also entered, on their way,
the several temples and places of worship, and performed
T