Book Name:

The Ocean of Story Volume 2

Honour to the Conqueror of Obstacles whose favour, I ween, even the creator [1] implored, in order that he might accomplish the creation of the world without let or hindrance.

That five-arrowed God of Love conquers the world, at whose command even Siva trembles, when he is being embraced by his beloved.

 

[M] Thus having obtained Vāsavadattā, that King of Vatsa gradually became most exclusively devoted to the pleasure of her society. But his prime minister Yaugan-dharāyaṇa, and his general Rumaṇvat, upheld day and night the burden of his empire.

And once upon a time the minister Yaugandharāyaṇa, full of anxiety, brought Rumaṇvat to his house at night and said to him as follows: –

“This lord of Vatsa is sprung from the Pāṇḍava race, and the whole earth is his by hereditary descent, as also the city named of the elephant. [2] All these this king has abandoned, not being desirous of making conquests, and his kingdom has so become confined to this one small corner of the earth. For he certainly remains devoted to women, wine and hunting, and he has delegated to us all the duty of thinking about his kingdom. So we by our own intelligence must take such steps as that he shall obtain the empire of the whole earth, which is his by hereditary right. For, if we do this, we shall have exhibited devotion to his cause, and performed our duty as ministers; for everything is accomplished by intellect, and in proof of this listen to the following tale: –

 

11. Story of the Clever Physician

Once on a time there was a king named Mahāsena, and he was attacked by another king far superior to him in power. Then the king’s ministers met together, and in order to prevent the ruin of his interests Mahāsena was persuaded by them to pay tribute to that enemy. And after he had paid tribute that haughty king was exceedingly afflicted, thinking to himself: “Why have I made submission to my enemy?” And his sorrow on that account caused an abscess to form in his vitals, and he was so pulled down by the abscess that at last he was at the point of death. Then a certain wise physician, considering that that case could not be cured by medicine, said falsely to that king: “O King, your wife is dead.” When he heard that, the king fell on the ground, and owing to the excessive violence of his grief the abscess burst of itself. And so the king recovered from his disease, and long enjoyed in the society of that queen the pleasures he desired, and conquered his enemies in his turn. [3]

 

[M]

“So, as that physician did his king a good turn by his wisdom, let us also do our king a good turn; let us gain for him the empire of the earth. And in this undertaking our only adversary is Pradyota, the King of Magadha; [4] for he is a foe in the rear that is always attacking us behind. So we must ask for our sovereign that pearl of princesses, his daughter, [5] named Padmāvatī. And by our cleverness we will conceal Vāsavadattā somewhere, and setting fire to her house, we will give out everywhere that the queen is burnt.

For in no other case will the King of Magadha give his daughter to our sovereign, for when I requested him to do so on a former occasion he answered:

‘I will not give my daughter, whom I love more than myself, to the King of Vatsa, for he is passionately attached to his wife Vāsavadattā.’

Moreover, as long as the queen is alive, the King of Vatsa will not marry anyone else; but if a report is once spread that the queen is burnt, all will succeed. And when Padmāvatī is secured, the King of Magadha will be our marriage connection, and will not attack us in the rear, but will become our ally. Then we will march to conquer the eastern quarter, and the others in due succession, so we shall obtain for the King of Vatsa all this earth. And if we only exert ourselves, this king will obtain the dominion of the earth, for long ago a divine voice predicted this.”

When Rumaṇvat heard this speech from the great minister Yaugandharāyaṇa, he feared that the plan would cover them with ridicule, and so he said to him:

“Deception practised for the sake of Padmāvatī might some day be the ruin of us both; in proof of this listen to the following tale: –

 

12. Story of the Hypocritical Ascetic

On the bank of the Ganges there is a city named Mākandikā; in that city long ago there was a certain ascetic who observed a vow of silence, and he lived on alms, and, surrounded by numerous other holy beggars, dwelt in a monastery within the precincts of a god’s temple where he had taken up his abode. Once, when he entered a certain merchant’s house to beg, he saw a beautiful maiden coming out with alms in her hand, and the rascal, seeing that she was wonderfully beautiful, was smitten with love, and exclaimed: “Ah! Ah! Alas!” And that merchant overheard him.

Then, taking the alms he had received, he departed to his own house; and then the merchant went there and said to him in his astonishment:

“Why did you to-day suddenly break your vow of silence [6] and say what you did?”

When he heard that, the ascetic said to the merchant:

“This daughter of yours has inauspicious marks [7]; when she marries, you will undoubtedly perish, wife, sons and all. So, when I saw her, I was afflicted, for you are my devoted adherent; and thus it was on your account that I broke silence and said what I did. So place this daughter of yours by night in a basket, on the top of which there must be a light, and set her adrift on the Ganges.”

The merchant said, “So I will,” and went away; and at night he did all he had been directed to do, out of pure fear. The timid are ever unreflecting.

The hermit for his part said at that time to his own pupils:

“Go to the Ganges, and when you see a basket floating along with a light on the top of it, bring it here secretly, but you must not open it, even if you hear a noise inside.”

They said, “We will do so,” and off they went; but before they reached the Ganges, strange to say, a certain prince went into the river to bathe. He, seeing that basket, which the merchant had thrown in, by the help of the light on it, got his servants to fetch it for him, and immediately opened it out of curiosity. And in it he saw that heart-enchanting girl, and he married her on the spot by the gāndharva ceremony of marriage. And he set the basket adrift on the Ganges, exactly as it was before, putting a lamp on the top of it, and placing a fierce monkey inside it.

The prince having departed with that pearl of maidens, the pupils of the hermit came there in the course of their search, and saw that basket, and took it up and carried it to the hermit.

Then he, being delighted, said to them:

“I will take this upstairs and perform incantations with it alone, but you must lie in silence this night.”

When he had said this, the ascetic took the basket to the top of the monastery and opened it, eager to behold the merchant’s daughter. And then a monkey of terrible appearance sprang out of it, [8] and rushed upon the ascetic, like his own immoral conduct incarnate in bodily form. The monkey in its fury immediately tore off with its teeth the nose of the wicked ascetic, and his ears with its claws, as if it had been a skilful executioner; and in that state the ascetic ran downstairs, and when his pupils beheld him they could with difficulty suppress their laughter. And early next morning everybody heard the story, and laughed heartily; but the merchant was delighted, and his daughter also, as she had obtained a good husband.

 

[M]

“And even as the ascetic made himself ridiculous, so too may we possibly become a laughing-stock, if we employ deceit, and fail after all. For the separation of the king from Vāsavadattā involves many disadvantages.”

When Rumaṇvat had said this to Yaugandharāyaṇa, the latter answered:

“In no other way can we conduct our enterprise successfully, and if we do not undertake the enterprise, it is certain that with this self-indulgent king we shall lose even what territory we have got; and the reputation which we have acquired for statesmanship will be tarnished, and we shall cease to be spoken of as men who show loyalty to their sovereign. For when a king is one who depends on himself for success, his ministers are considered merely the instruments of his wisdom; and in the case of such monarchs you would not have much to do with their success or failures. But when a king depends on his ministers for success, it is their wisdom that achieves his ends, and if they are wanting in enterprise he must bid a long farewell to all hope of greatness. [9] But if you fear the queen’s father Chaṇḍamahāsena, I must tell you that he and his son and the queen also will do whatever I bid them.”

When Yaugandharāyaṇa, most resolute among the resolute, had said this, Rumaṇvat, whose heart dreaded some fatal blunder, again said to him:

“Even a discerning prince is afflicted by the pain of being separated from a beloved woman, much more will this King of Vatsa be. In proof of what I say, listen to the following tale: –

 

13. Story of Unmādinī [10]

Once on a time there was a king named Devasena, best of wise men, and the city of Śrāvastī was his capital. And in that city there was a wealthy merchant, and to him there was born a daughter of unparalleled beauty. And that daughter became known by the name of Unmādinī, because everyone who beheld her beauty became mad.

Her father, the merchant, thought:

“I must not give this daughter of mine to anyone without telling the king, or he may be angry.”

So he went and said to the king Devasena:

“King, I have a daughter who is a very pearl; take her if she finds favour in your eyes.”

When he heard that, the king sent some Brāhmans, his confidential ministers, saying to them:

“Go and see if that maiden possesses the auspicious marks [11] or not.”

The ministers said, “We will do so,” and went. But when they beheld that merchant’s daughter, Unmādinī, love was suddenly produced in their souls, and they became utterly bewildered.

Wien they recovered their senses, the Brāhmans said to one another:

“If the king marries this maiden, he will think only of her, and will neglect the affairs of the state, and everything will go to rack and ruin; so what is the good of her?”

Accordingly they went and told the king, what was not true, that the maiden had inauspicious marks.

Then the merchant gave that Unmādinī, whom the king had refused, and who in her heart felt a proud resentment at it, to the king’s commander-in-chief. When she was in the house of her husband, she ascended one day to the roof, and exhibited herself to the king, who she knew would pass that way. And the moment the king beheld her, resembling a world-bewildering drug employed by the God of Love, distraction seemed to be produced within him. When he returned to his palace, and discovered that it was the same lady he had previously rejected, he was full of regret, and fell violently ill with fever.

The commander-in-chief, the husband of the lady, came to him and earnestly entreated him to take her, saying:

“She is a slave; she is not the lawful wife of another; or, if it seem fit, I will repudiate her in the temple, then my lord can take her for his own.”

But the king said to him:

“I will not take unto myself another man’s wife, and if you repudiate her, your righteousness will be at an end, and you will deserve punishment at my hands.”

When they heard that, the other ministers remained silent, and the king was gradually consumed by love’s burning, and so died. [12]

 

[M]

“So that king perished, though of firm soul, being deprived of Unmādinī; but what will become of the lord of Vatsa without Vāsavadattā?”

When Yaugandharāyaṇa heard this from Rumaṇvat, he answered:

“Affliction is bravely endured by kings who have their eyes firmly fixed on their duty. Did not Rāma, when commissioned by the gods, who were obliged to resort to that contrivance to kill Rāvaṇa, endure the pain of separation from Queen Sītā?”

When he heard this, Rumaṇvat said in answer:

“Such as Rāma are gods; their souls can endure all things. But the thing is intolerable to men; in proof whereof listen to the following tale: –

 

14. Story of the Loving Couple who died of Separation

There is on this earth a great city rich in jewels, named Mathurā. In it there lived a certain young merchant called Illaka. And he had a dear wife whose mind was devoted to him alone. Once on a time, while he was dwelling with her, the young merchant determined to go to another country on account of the exigencies of his affairs. And that wife of his wished to go with him. For when a woman is passionately attached to anyone she cannot endure to be separated from him. And then that young merchant set out, having offered the usual preliminary prayer for success in his undertaking, and did not take with him that wife of his, though she had dressed herself for the journey. She, looking after him when he had started, with tears in her eyes, stood supporting herself against the panel of the door of the courtyard. Then, he being out of sight, she was no longer able to endure her grief; but she was too timid to follow him. So her breath left her body. And as soon as the young merchant came to know of that, he returned, and to his horror found that dear wife of his a corpse, with pale though lovely complexion, set off by her waving locks, like the spirit of beauty that tenants the moon fallen down to earth in the day during her sleep. [13] So he took her in his arms and wept over her, and immediately the vital spirits left his body, which was on fire with the flame of grief, as if they were afraid to remain. [14] So that married couple perished by mutual separation, and therefore we must take care that the king is not separated from the queen.

 

[M] When he had said this, Rumaṇvat ceased, with his mind full of apprehension, but the wise Yaugandharāyaṇa, that ocean of calm resolution, answered him:

“I have arranged the whole plan, and the affairs of kings often require such steps to be taken; in proof of it hear the following tale: –

 

15. Story of Puṇyasena

There lived long ago in Ujjayinī a king named Puṇyasena, and once on a time a powerful sovereign came and attacked him. Then his resolute ministers, seeing that that king was hard to conquer, spread everywhere a false report that their own sovereign Puṇyasena was dead; and they placed him in concealment, and burnt some other man’s corpse with all the ceremonies appropriate to a king, and they proposed to the hostile king through an ambassador that, as they had now no king, he should come and be their king. The hostile monarch was pleased and consented, and then the ministers assembled, accompanied by soldiers, and proceeded to storm his camp. And the enemy’s army being destroyed, Puṇya-sena’s ministers brought him out of concealment, and having recovered their power put that hostile king to death.

 

[M]

“Such necessities will arise in monarchs’ affairs, therefore let us resolutely accomplish this business of the king’s by spreading a report of the queen’s having been burnt.”

When he heard this from Yaugandharāyaṇa, who had made up his mind, Rumaṇvat said:

“If this is resolved upon, let us send for Gopālaka, the queen’s respected brother, and let us take all our measures duly, after consultation with him.”

Then Yaugandharāyaṇa said, “So be it,” and Rumaṇvat allowed himself to be guided, in determining what was to be done, by the confidence which he placed in his colleague.

The next day these dexterous ministers sent off a messenger of their own to bring Gopālaka, on the pretext that his relations longed to see him. And as he had only departed before on account of urgent business, Gopālaka came at the request of the messenger, seeming like an incarnate festival. And the very day he came Yaugandharāyaṇa took him by night to his own house, together with Rumaṇvat, and there he told him of that daring scheme which he wished to undertake, all of which he had before deliberated about together with that Rumaṇvat; and Gopālaka, desiring the good of the King of Vatsa, consented to the scheme, though he knew it would bring sorrow to his sister; for the mind of good men is ever fixed upon duty.

Then Rumaṇvat again said:

“All this is well planned; but when the King of Vatsa hears that his wife is burnt he will be inclined to yield up his breath, and how is he to be prevented from doing so? This is a matter which ought to be considered. For though all the usual politic expedients may advantageously be employed, the principal element of sound statecraft is the averting of misfortune.”

Then Yaugandharāyaṇ a, who had reflected on everything that was to be done, said:

“There need be no anxiety about this, for the queen is a princess, the younger sister of Gopālaka, and dearer to him than his life, and when the King of Vatsa sees how little afflicted Gopālaka is, he will think to himself, ‘Perhaps the queen may be alive after all,’ and so will be able to control his feelings. Moreover, he is of heroic disposition, and the marriage of Padmāvatī will be quickly got through, and then we can soon bring the queen out of concealment.”

Then Yaugandharāyaṇa and Gopālaka and Rumaṇvat, having made up their minds to this, deliberated as follows: –

“Let us adopt the artifice of going to Lāvānaka with the king and queen, for that district is a border district near the kingdom of Magadha. And because it contains admirable hunting-grounds, it will tempt the king to absent himself from the palace, so we can set the women’s apartments there on fire and carry out the plan [15] on which we have determined. And by an artifice we will take the queen and leave her in the palace of Padmāvatī, in order that Padmāvatī herself may be a witness to the queen’s virtuous behaviour in a state of concealment.”

Having thus deliberated together during the night, they all, with Yaugandharāyaṇa at their head, entered the king’s palace on the next day.

Then Rumaṇvat made the following representation to the king: –

“O King, it is a long time since we have gone to Lāvānaka, and it is a very delightful place; moreover, you will find capital hunting-grounds there, and grass for the horses can easily be obtained. And the King of Magadha, being so near, afflicts all that district. So let us go there for the sake of defending it, as well as for our own enjoyment.”

And the king, when he heard this, having his mind always set on enjoyment, determined to go to Lāvānaka together with Vāsavadattā.

The next day, the journey having been decided on, and the auspicious hour having been fixed by the astrologers, suddenly the hermit Nārada came to visit the monarch.

He illuminated the region with his splendour as he descended from the midst of heaven, and gave a feast to the eyes of all spectators, seeming as if he were the moon come down out of affection towards his own descendants. [16] After accepting the usual hospitable attentions, the hermit graciously gave to the king, who bowed humbly before him, a garland from the Pārijāta [17] tree. And he congratulated the queen, by whom he was politely received, promising her that she should have a son, who should be a portion of Kāma and king of all the Vidyādharas.

And then he said to the King of Vatsa, while Yaugandharāyaṇa was standing by:

“O King, the sight of your wife, Vāsavadattā, has strangely brought something to my recollection. In old time you had for ancestors Yudhiṣṭhira and his brothers. And those five had one wife between them, [18] Draupadī by name. And she, like Vāsavadattā, was matchless in beauty.

Then, fearing that her beauty would do mischief, I said to them:

‘You must avoid jealousy, for that is the seed of calamities; in proof of it listen to the following tale, which I will relate to you: –

 

16. Story of Sunda and Upasunda [19]

There were two brothers, Asuras by race, Sunda and Upasunda, hard to overcome, inasmuch as they surpassed the three worlds in valour. And Brahmā, wishing to destroy them, gave an order to Viśvakarman, [20] and had constructed a heavenly woman named Tilottamā, in order to behold whose beauty even Siva truly became four-faced, so as to look four ways at once, while she was devoutly circumambulating him. She, by the order of Brahmā, went to Sunda and Upasunda, while they were in the garden of Kailāsa, in order to seduce them. And both those two Asuras, distracted with love, seized the fair one at the same time by both her arms the moment they saw her near them. And as they were dragging her off in mutual opposition, they soon came to blows, and both of them were destroyed. To whom is not the attractive object called woman the cause of misfortune?

 

[M]

“‘And you, though many, have one love, Draupadī, therefore you must without fail avoid quarrelling about her. And by my advice always observe this rule with respect to her. When she is with the eldest, she must be considered a mother by the youngest; and when she is with the youngest, she must be considered a daughter-in-law by the eldest.’

Your ancestors, O King, accepted that speech of mine with unanimous consent, having their minds fixed on salutary counsels. And they were my friends, and it is through love for them that I have come to visit you here, King of Vatsa; therefore I give you this advice. Do you follow the counsel of your ministers, as they followed mine, and in a short time you will gain great success. For some time you will suffer grief, but you must not be too much distressed about it, for it will end in happiness.”

After the hermit Nārada, so clever in indirectly intimating future prosperity, had said this duly to the King of Vatsa, he immediately disappeared. And then Yaugandharāyaṇa and all the other ministers, auguring from the speech of that great hermit that the scheme they had in view was about to succeed, became exceedingly zealous about carrying it into effect.

Comments:

[1] I read dhātā for dhātrā.

[2] I.e. Hastināpura.

[3] Here Wilson observes:

“The circumstances here related are not without analogies in fact. It is not marvellous, therefore, that we may trace them in fiction. The point of the story is the same as that of the ‘Deux Anglais à Paris,’ a Fabliau.”

Webster, Duchess of Malji, Act IV, sc. 2, tells a similar story:

“A great physician, when the Pope was sick

Of a deep melancholy, presented him

With several sorts of madmen, which wild object,

Being full of change and sport, freed him to laugh,

And so the imposthume broke.”

Cf. Henderson’s Folk-Lore of the Northern Counties, p. 131.-Reference should also be made to the Heptarneron, Margaret of Navarre, nouvelle lxxi, which treats of

“Une femme à l’extremité qui se mit en si grosse colère, voyant son mari qui baisait sa servante, qu’elle recouvra la santé.”

For the English translation see the five-volume edition printed in 1894 for the Society of English Bibliophilists, vol. v, p. 219 et seq. The story was imitated by Noel du Fail de la Hérissaye in his Contes d’Eutrapel (ch. v, “De la Goutte”), where the hero is called Glaume Esnaut de Tremeril. In Frere’s Old Deccan Days, p. 217, we read of a quarrel between a blind man and a deaf man, which got so serious that the blind man gave the deaf man a tremendous box on the ear, so violent indeed that it made the deaf man hear. The deaf man returned the blow so hard on the blind man’s face that his eyesight was immediately restored. It is unnecessary to give examples of the extraordinary cases of restoration of sight and hearing which constantly occurred in the Great War. A similar story to that in our text also occurs on p. 36 of this volume. – n.m.p.

[4] This ancient kingdom corresponds to the modern districts of Patna, Gayā and Ṣāhābād in South Bihār. Its great importance in Indian history will be realised when we remember that it was not only the home of Buddhism and Jainism, but also the nucleus of two of the greatest of the Indian empires, the Maurya and the Gupta. Until the sixth century b.c. its capital was Girivraja, when its place was taken by Rājagṛha, the modern Rājgīr. Further information will be found in Rhys Davids’ Buddhist India, 1905; Cunningham’s Ancient Geography of India, 1871; and the Cambridge History of India, vol. i, 1922. – n.m.p.

[5] In the dramatic version (see note 1, p. 21) of this incident Padmāvatī is described as sister of King Praydota. – n.m.p.

[6] For the amazing austerities of ascetics see Vol. I, p. 79, note 1. – n.m.p.

[7] See note on p. 7. – n.m.p.

[8] Cf. Sagas from the Far East, tale xi, pp. 123, 124. Here the crime contemplated is murder, and the ape is represented by a tiger. This story bears a certain resemblance to the termination of “Alles aus einer Erbse,” Kaden’s Unter den Olivenbäumen, p. 22. See also pp. 75 and 220 of the same collection. – In the Pentamerone of Basile (Burton, vol. i, second diversion of the third day, p. 14.9 et seq.) a princess is set afloat in a box and found by a king, whose wife she eventually becomes. See also Tawney’s Kathākoqa, pp. 131-134. – n.m.p.

[9] Literally, a handful of water, such as is offered to the Manes, is offered to Fortune. It is all over with his chance of attaining glory.

[10] Cf. Sicilianische Märchen, Gonzenbach, vol. i, p. 220. Liebrecht, in note 485 to page 413 of his translation of Dunlop’s History of Fiction, compares this story with one in The Thousand and One Days of a princess of Kashmir, who was so beautiful that everyone who saw her went mad, or pined away.

He also mentions an Arabian tradition with respect to the Thracian sorceress Rhodope:

“The Arabs believe that one of the pyramids is haunted by a guardian spirit in the shape of a beautiful woman, the mere sight of whom drives men mad.”

He refers also to Thomas Moore, The Epicurean, note 6 to ch. vi, and The Adventures of Hatim Tai, translated by Duncan Forbes, p. 18.

[11] The interpreting of bodily marks is known as sāmtidrika, and there are several works on the art. Buddha was said to have possessed thirty-two lucky marks (mahāpuruṣalakṣaṇa) and eighty minor marks. Thurston tells us (Ethnographic Notes in Southern India, p. 84) that among the Kurubas the bridegroom’s father observes certain marks, or "curls,” on the head of the proposed bride. If she has one on her forehead it is considered lucky; but the opposite is the case if one is found at the back of the head, or near the right temple.

Among the Pallis (Tamil agriculturists) a “curl” on the forehead is considered as an indication that the girl will become a widow; and one on the back of the head portends the death of the eldest brother of her husband.

The following notes on sāmudrika were kindly obtained for me from Rai Bahadur B. A. Gupta by Mr Enthoven: –

The number of horizontal lines on the forehead indicate years of longevity. If a man has two lines, he will live for forty years or so; if three, he will live for seventy-five years or so; if four, for full hundred years. If while smiling he gets a dimple or depression in his cheeks, he will be a loose character. If his chin is double and broad, he will be strong-willed. If his chin be thin and rounded, he would like to be loved by a woman. If he has very long ears, he will be licentious. If there be a deep horizontal line at the top of the nose, he would like to be authoritative. If he has five whorls at the five tips of his fingers, he will be a princeling; if all the ten fingers have that mark, he will become a sovereign. If a man has a line on the sole of his foot running between his big toe and the second toe, he will get a palanquin. A woman with the little toe overlapping the next one, or if it does not reach the earth, will be morally bad-charactered and will seek many men. If the four fingers of a man when held up against the sun show light through interstices, he is an extravagant person. On the other hand, if he has fat fingers and no interstices, he is a close-fisted man, and likely to be a miser.

As we shall see in a later volume (Chapter XLIII), Naravāhanadatta is recognised as a future emperor by special distinguishing signs “such as the peculiar freckle and other marks.” – n.m.p.

[12] See note to next story. – n.m.p.

[13] In the original it is intended to compare the locks to the spots in the moon.

[14] Among the Hindus death was the tenth, and final, stage of love-sickness. Vātsyāyana in his Kāma Sūtra (circa a.d. 250) gives the ten stages as follows: –

love of the eyes – i.e. pleasure in seeing the beloved one;

attraction and dwelling of the mind; the birth of desire for union; loss of sleep;

emaciation; total indifference to other objects; loss of shame; distraction and madness; fainting, and death.

This list was repeated in rather more detail in the Ananga-Ranga; see the Kāma Shastra Society edition, 1885, pp. 87, 88, and my Annotated Bibliography of Sir Richard Burton, pp. 161-173.

In Arabian fiction the favourite stage appears to be the ninth, and nearly every hero faints for love on the slightest provocation. There are, however, cases of death. See the Nights (Burton, vol. v, p. 134), where three unhappy people die through love of each other. Cf. also the story of “The Mad Lover” on p. 138 of the same volume. In Europe the favourite form of the motif was for one of the lovers to die naturally or unintentionally, whereupon the other would either commit suicide or die of grief – the consequence being that they were buried together in the same tomb. See, for example, Decameron, day 4, novs. 1, 5, 7, 8 and 9; Straparola, night 9, nov. 2; Bandello, part i, nov. 33; Heptameron, day 7, nov. 70. Cf. also the ballad of “Fair Margaret and Sweet William” (Percy, Reliques, iii, p. 125) and “Lord Thomas and Fair Annet” (op. cip., iii, p. 234). For numerous imitations of the tale in the Decameron, day 4, nov. 8, reference should be made to Lee, The Decameron, its Sources and Analogues, pp. 140-143. – n.m.p.

[15] Reading yad hi.

[16] The moon was the progenitor of the Pāṇḍava race.

[17] One of the five trees of Paradise.

[18] See note at the end of the chapter. – n.m.p.

[19] There is a certain resemblance in this story to that of Otus and Ephialtes. See Preller’s Griechische Mythologie, vol. i, p. 81. Cf. also Grohmann’s Sagen aus Bölmen, p. 35. – The story of Sunda and Upasunda is found in the Mahābhārata, Book I, sections ccxi-ccxiv (see Roy’s new edition, 1920, vol. i, part iv, pp. 407-413). Here we have the tale in full, and learn how the two brothers went to the Vindhya hills to practise the severest austerities, until their power became so great that the gods grew alarmed. All their schemes to tempt the brothers from their asceticism failed. Finally Brahmā asks the brothers what boon it is they want. They demand knowledge of all weapons and powers of illusion, to be endued with great strength, to assume any form at will, and finally to be immortal. All these demands are granted except the latter, which was denied them because they had performed their great penances only to subdue the three worlds. They are, however, allowed to name some form of death which would practically amount to their being immortal. Thinking it an absolute impossibility for two such loving brothers to quarrel with each other, they say: “Let us have no fear [of death] then from any created thing, mobile or immobile, in the three worlds, except only from each other.” At first all goes well – from the brothers’ point of view. They subdue the gods, extirpate the Brāhman caste, and lead a life of luxury and voluptuousness.

In their misery the Ṛṣis and Siddhas implore Brahmā to aid them. It is at this point that he calls upon the divine architect, Viśvakarman, to construct the celestial maiden, as related in the Ocean of Story. The story is repeated in chapter cxxi, where the two brothers are called Ghaṇṭa and Nighaṇṭa. Here they are described as Dānavas who were trying to impede Prajāpati in his work of creation. The dénouement of this version is weakened by the fact that there are two beautiful things created.

Stories of hostile brothers are of quite common occurrence in Sanskrit literature. See Pārçvanātha, IV, 53 et seq., and vi, 280 et seq.; Dharmakalpadruma, ii, and the story of “The Two Brothers” in Schiefner and Ralston’s Tibetan Tales, p. 279. Bloomfield (Life and Stories of Pārçvanātha, pp. 15, 16 ) gives short extracts from the above. – n.m.p.

[20] The architect or artist of the gods.

 

NOTE ON POLYANDRY

For the sake of readers who are unacquainted with the plot of the world’s greatest epic I may, perhaps, be excused for beginning this note with a very brief outline of the events in the first book of the Mahābhārata, which has already been so often quoted in Volume I.

The Mahābhārata, meaning “great poem relating to the Bharatas,” consists of eighteen parvans, or books, made up of about 400,000 verses of eight and eleven syllables each.

The outline of the story up to the polyandrous marriage of Draupadī, mentioned in our text, is as follows: –

There once lived in the country of the Bharatas, in the city of Hastināpura (about sixty miles north-east of the modern Delhi), two princes named Dhṛta-rāṣṭra and Pāṇḍu. Their uncle, Bhīṣma, governed the kingdom until they came of age. Legally the eldest brother, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, should have ruled, but he was born blind and so his younger brother took his place. There was also a third brother named Vidura, but as his mother was only a Śūdra woman he could not succeed. Dhṛtarāṣṭra married Gāndhārī, the daughter of King Subala of Gāndhāra.

Pāṇḍu had two wives, Pṛthā, or Kuntī, and Mādrī, daughter of the King of ladra. After a series of most successful campaigns Pāṇḍu retired with his wives to the Himālayas, leaving the reins of government in the hands of his blind brother, and his uncle Bhīṣma as regent.

Both brothers had sons by supernatural birth. Dhṛtarāṣṭra had a hundred sons, called Kauravas, or Kuru princes, while Pāṇḍu had but five—three from Kuntī, named Yudhiṣṭhira, Bhīma and Arjuna, and two from Mādrī, who were twins, Nakula and Sahadeva.

While the five princes were still but children, their father Pāṇḍu died as the result of the fulfilment of a curse. On hearing of this misfortune Dhṛtarāṣṭra took his brother’s wives and children under his care, and brought up the latter with his own hundred sons. Owing to the general superiority in all feats of strength of the Pāṇḍu princes, inordinate jealousy of their cousins finally led to Arjuna and his brothers leaving Hastināpura. They lived at Ekācakrā, disguised as mendicant Brahmans. From there they went to the Court of King Drupada, whose beautiful daughter Draupadī was about to hold her svayaṃvara(marriage by choice). Only the man who could perform a certain great feat in archery could win her. All Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s sons tried and failed, and Arjuna alone succeeded in filling the conditions of the contest.

We now come to the incident which is supposed to have caused the polyandrous marriage of Draupadī.

The five Pāṇḍus returned to their mother with Draupadī, and she, thinking they had merely brought back alms, called out from within the house: “Share the gift between you.” This command of a parent was law, and accordingly Arjuna informed Drupada that he and his four brothers were going to have his daughter in common The king was taken aback, and begged the brothers not to commit an act that was sinful and opposed both to usage and the Vedas. At this juncture the illustrious Ṛslii Vyāsa appears and, by relating the supernatural history of both the Pāṇḍus and Draupadī herself, shows that in reality the five Pāṇḍus originated in a single divine being. Thus the proposed marriage was not really polyandrous, and so could be consummated without breach of propriety or transgression against the sacred Vedas. Examples of similar marriages in the past are quoted, and finally the marriage takes place.

This brings us to the consideration of the practice of polyandry, which is the subject of this note.

From the above story it is clear that the practice was regarded with disfavour by the Aryans. If it didoccur, it was necessary to explain it away, or to prove that it was not a true case of polyandry. In fact the practice can be described as non-Aryan. It was certainly non-Vedic, and was strongly opposed by the Brāhmans.

On the other hand, it was not denounced in the Sūtras, though we must not infer from this that the Pāṇḍus lived before they were composed.

Polyandry was practised by both the Tibetans and Dravidians, and this fact has often been brought forward to explain the reference to the polyandrous marriage in the Mahābhārata. It has been suggested that, as the Pāṇḍus were themselves a northern hill tribe or family, probably they were really polyandrous, and needed no excuse. The Pānḍavas were of the Kṣatriya caste and enjoyed the lowest forms of marriage sanctioned by Manu; thus they would have little scruple in imitating the practices of the peoples they conquered, especially as the number of their own women was bound to be very limited. The subject is an interesting one, especially when we remember that in modern times the practice is almost entirely confined to the Indian Empire and Tibet.

In speaking of any form of human marriage it is as well to explain the exact scope of the terms employed. For instance, the word polygamy is now used as a generic term to include all forms of marriage which are non-monogamic, and not merely that form in which a single husband has more than one wife.

There are three distinct forms of polygamy:

1. Polygyny, where one man has more than one wife.

2. Polyandry, where one woman has more than one husband.

3. Communal -or group- marriage, in which there is more than one husband and more than one wife in a single household.

In a true case of polyandry, therefore, the woman must be married to more than one husband, and not merely have one husband and several lovers. In India it is not so easy as it may appear to ascertain whether a woman is properly married or not. We have already seen that in various localities dēva-dāsīsare married (Vol. I, App. IV) to idols, knives, drums, etc., and in making up their statistical tables, reporters of the Census of India were in considerable doubt as to how to classify them.

Among the Nairs or Nāyars of Travancore, Cochin and Malabar, marriage may mean either the formal ceremony of tying a tāli round the neck of a girl, known as tālikaṭṭu; or the ceremony of actual alliance as husband and wife, known as sambandham.

For an interesting account of polyandry in Malabar, reference should be made to M. Long worth Dames’ translation of the Book of Duarte Barbosa, published for the Hakluyt Society, 1918, 1921, vol. ii, pp. 40, 40n2, 42, 42nl, 43, 59, 59n2, 60 , 61n2. The passages are most ably annotated by Dames, and many useful references are given.

Although polyandry can be described as non-existent among the Nāyars of to-day (except perhaps in certain remote country parts), its prevalence has been repeatedly testified by travellers and missionaries from the fifteenth century onwards. The two distinct marriage ceremonies have always existed, but the significance of the second has apparently greatly changed. The tālikaṭṭu took place (and still does) before the girl attains puberty, and the tāli is tied by a mock bridegroom. The second ceremony was a kind of official leave for the girl to cohabit with any Brāhman or Nāyar she chose. Such men were in no way related; consequently this system of polyandry, if so it can be called, is known as non-fraternal.

The more usual variety of polyandry is that in which the woman marries the head of a family of brothers, the younger ones sharing the marital rights. This “fraternal polyandry” is still found widely disseminated in Tibet and the neighbouring Himālayan regions, as well as among the Todas of the Nilgiri hills. Full references and adequate accounts of polyandry in these regions, as well as evidence from the Pacific Islands, and isolated cases in Africa and elsewhere, have been collected and admirably presented by Westermarck in his History of Human Marriage, fifth edition, 1921, vol. iii, chapters xxix and xxx.

Thus there is no need for repetition here. It will suffice to enumerate briefly the different suggestions put forward to explain polyandry and to add any fresh reference of importance.

We will take fraternal polyandry first. The most usual explanation given is excess of males over females. This has been found to exist in most localities where polyandry occurs—viz. Siberia, Turkestan, Tibet, Mongolia, North and Central Bhutan, on the Sikkim-Bengal frontier, among the Todas and in Coorg in South India. It has also been noticed in the New Hebrides, the Bismarck Archipelago, the Hawaian Islands and New Caledonia.

Some of the other possible causes of polyandry may be looked for in the factors which have produced this shortage of women.

For the 1921 Census of India the following causes of the low proportion of females to males in the Indian Empire were suggested as a basis for inquiry:—

1. Infanticide.

2. Neglect of female children.

3. Evil effects of early marriage and premature child-bearing.

4. High birth-rate and primitive methods of midwifery.

5. Hard treatment accorded to women, especially widows.

6. Hard work done by women.

The reports showed that the two commonest causes of paucity of females were Nos. 3 and 4. Infanticide was rare, although its practice in former times in such provinces as the Panjāb and Bombay may still have effect in the low female birth-rate.

In Eastern Bengal and the Central India Agency the hard life of the women has also to be taken into account, while in Travancore, where the women are well cared for both before and after marriage, the sole cause of the excess of males is that their mortality is increasingly small.

There are, however, other reasons for a general scarcity of women, which are not at first apparent. For instance, polygyny of the richer classes may lead to polyandry among the poorer families. In many countries a wife is an expensive luxury, and consequently the brothers club together to meet the cost.

There are still other factors to be considered. Polyandry of the fraternal variety strengthens family ties, and keeps the property intact.

Among the pastoral tribes of Tibet and Southern India a man will wander for months on end with his flocks, leaving his brothers and cohusbands in charge of their common wife.

When considering non-fraternal polyandry none of these factors applies, and we have to look for other reasons to explain the practice as formerly found among the Nāyars.

It cannot be said that they are in a stage of development only a little further advanced than promiscuity, because, on the contrary, they are considerably more highly civilised than the neighbouring castes who do not practise polyandry.

The explanation probably lies in the history of the Nāyars. They were originally a military caste, and as such adhered to a system of polity incompatible with the then existing marriage state. The men never lived in the same houses as the women with whom they consorted, and inheritance ran through the mother.

Burton, in his first published work, Goa and the Blue Mountains, 1851, p. 218 et seq., drew attention to this very point:

“The domestic ties, always inconvenient to a strictly military population, were thereby [the Brahmaic adoption of the Matriarchal inheritance] conveniently weakened, and the wealth, dignity and unbroken unity of interests were preserved for generations unimpaired in great and powerful families, which, had the property been divided among the several branches, according to the general practice of Hinduism, would soon have lost their weight and influence. As it was unnecessary that a woman should be removed from her home, or introduced into a strange family, the eldest nephew on the sister’s side, when he became the senior male member of the household, succeeded, as a matter of course, to the rights, property and dignity of Karnovun [head of the house].”

For other suggested origins of the non-fraternal polyandry reference rshould be made to Westermarck,op. cit vol. iii, pp. 198-206.

In conclusion, I would quote a short passage from his summary on p. 206:

“To explain in full why certain factors in some cases give rise to polyandry and in other cases not is as impossible as it often is to say exactly why one people is monogamous and another people polygynous. But, generally speaking, there can be little doubt that the main reason why polyandry is not more commonly practised is the natural desire in most men to be in exclusive possession of their wives.”— n.m.p.

Abstract: