For never yet was water wet could wash the spirit white.'
Resign thyself to loss. Pain exists absolutely. Ease, what is it but a minute's alleviation?'
'It is nothing else,' said Kaundinya: 'I will resign myself!' Thereupon,' the Serpent continued, 'he cursed me with the curse that I should be a carrier of frogs, and so retired—and here remain I to do according to the Brahman's malediction.'
'The Frog, hearing all this, went and reported it to Web-foot the Frog-King, who shortly came himself for an excursion on the Serpent. He was carried delightfully, and constantly employed the conveyance. But one day observing the Serpent to be sluggish, he asked the reason.
'May it please you,' explained the Serpent, 'your slave has nothing to eat.'
'Eat a few of my frogs,' said the King. 'I give you leave.'
'I thank your Majesty!' answered the Serpent, and forthwith he began to eat the frogs, until the pond becoming clear, he finished with their monarch himself. 'I also,' said Night-cloud, 'stooped to conquer, but King Silver-sides is a good King, and I would your Majesty were at peace with him.'
'Peace!' cried King Jewel-plume, 'shall I make peace with my vassal! I have vanquished him—let him serve me!'
"At this moment the Parrot came in. 'Sire!' said he, breathlessly,' the Stork Strong-bill, Rajah of Ceylon, has raised the standard of revolt in Jambudwipa, and claims the country.'
'What! what!' cried the King in a fury.
'Excellent good, Goose!' muttered the Minister. 'This is thy work!'
'Bid him but await me!' exclaimed the King, 'and I will tear him up like a tree!'
'Ah, Sire,' said the Minister—
'Thunder for nothing, like December's cloud,
Passes unmarked: strike hard, but speak not loud.'
We cannot march without making peace first; our rear will be attacked.'
'Must it be so?' asked the King.
'My Liege, it must,' replied the Vulture.
'Make a peace then,' said the King, 'and make an end.'
'It is well,' observed the Minister, and set out for the Court of the King Silver-sides. While he was yet coming, the Crane announced his approach.
'Ah!' said the Swan-King, 'this will be another designing spy from the enemy.'
'Misdoubt him not!' answered the Goose, smiling, 'it is the Vulture Far-sight, a spirit beyond suspicion. Would your Majesty be as the Swan that took the stars reflected in the pool for lily-buds, and being deceived, would eat no lily-shoots by day, thinking them stars?'
'Not so! but treachery breeds mistrust,' replied the Rajah; is it not written—
'Minds deceived by evil natures, from the good their faith withhold;
When hot conjee once has burned them, children blow upon the cold.'
'It is so written, my Liege,' said the Minister. 'But this one may be trusted. Let him be received with compliments and a gift.'
'Accordingly the Vulture was conducted, with the most profound respect, from the fort to the King's audience-hall, where a throne was placed for him.
'Minister,' said the Goose, 'consider us and ours at thy disposal.'
'So consider us,' assented the Swan-King.
'I thank you,' said Far-sight; 'but—
'With a gift the miser meet;
Proud men by obeisance greet;
Women's silly fancies soothe;
Give wise men their due—the truth.'
'I am come to conclude a peace, not to claim your kingdom. By what mode shall we conclude it?'
'How many modes be there?' asked King Silver-sides.
'Sixteen,' replied the Vulture.
'Are the alliances numbered therein?' asked the King.
'No! these be four,' answered the Vulture, 'namely—of mutual help—of friendship—of blood—and of sacrifice.'
'You are a great diplomatist!' said the King. 'Advise us which to choose!'
'There is no Peace like the Golden "Sangata," which is made between good men, based on friendly feeling, and preceded by the Oath of Truth,' replied the Vulture.
'Let us make that Peace!' said the Goose. Far-sight accordingly, with fresh presents of robes and jewels, accompanied the Goose to the camp of the Peacock-King. The Rajah, Jewel-plume, gave the Goose a gracious audience, accepted his terms of Peace, and sent him back to the Swan-King, loaded with gifts and kind speeches. The revolt in Jambudwipa was suppressed, and the Peacock-King retired to his own kingdom.
"And now," said Vishnu-Sarman, "I have told your Royal Highnesses all. Is there anything remaining to be told?"
"Reverend Sir!" replied the Princes, "there is nothing. Thanks to you, we have heard and comprehended the perfect cycle of kingly duty, and are content."
"There remains but this, then," said their Preceptor:—
'Peace and Plenty, all fair things,
Grace the realm where ye reign Kings;
Grief and loss come not anigh you,
Glory guide and magnify you;
Wisdom keep your statesmen still
Clinging fast, in good or ill,
Clinging, like a bride new-wed,
Unto lips, and breast, and head:
And day by day, that these fair things befall,
The Lady Lukshmi give her grace to all.'
NALA AND DAMAYANTI
Introduction
The "Mahâbhârata" is the oldest epic in Sanscrit literature, and is sevenfold greater in bulk than the "Iliad" and "Odyssey" taken together. This remarkable poem contains almost all the history of ancient India, so far as it can be recovered, together with inexhaustible details of its political, social, and religious life—in fact, the antique Hindoo world stands epitomized in it. The Old Testament is not more interwoven with the Jewish race, nor the New Testament with the civilization of Christendom, nor even the Koran with the records and destinies of Islam, than is this great Sanscrit poem with the unchanging and teeming population of Hindostan. The stories, songs, and ballads, the genealogies, the nursery tales and religious discourses, the art, the learning, the philosophy, the creeds, the modes of thought, the very phrases and daily ideas of the Hindoo people are taken from this poem. Their children are named after its heroes; so are their cities, streets, and even cattle. It is the spiritual life of the Hindoo people. It is personified, worshipped, and cited as being something divine. To read, or even to listen, is to the devout Hindoo sufficiently meritorious to bring prosperity to the fireside in this world, and happiness in the world to come.
The western world has as yet only received the "Mahâbhârata" in fragments—mere specimens, bearing to those vast treasures of Sanscrit literature such small proportion as cabinet samples of ore have to the riches of a mine. Such knowledge as we have of the great Indian epics is largely due