Kathakoca or Treasury of Stories

SR No.: 016059
Original Sutra Author: N/A
Author: C H Tawney
Publisher: Oriental Books Reprint Corporation New Delhi
Publication Year: 1975
Total Pages: 288
Language: English
Classification: Dictionary & Dictionary
File Size: 15 MB

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aspirations have been fulfilled by beholding you.' Then the prince said to the hermit: 'How is it, hermit, that my eye is never sated with gazing on you ?' The hermit answered: 'Royal sir, one person is dear to one, and another to another. The kumudas* rejoice in the moon, and the kamalas in the sun.' Then the prince said: 'Hermit, I have to continue my journey; but how am I to advance, seeing that my mind, being bound with the chain of love for you, cannot go forward ? So come along with me; on my return I will leave you here.' Then the hermit said :
Do not insist, royal sir, since intercourse with kings is to the detriment of ascetics.' Then the prince said once more to the hermit : What! do even people like you, my lord, refuse to grant petitions ? The minister also said to the hermit: Please do what the prince says.' The hermit, who was really Rishidattá, was induced to consent to all by their great persistence, and at this moment the sun went to his rest. The hermit and the prince offered up their evening prayer, and spent the night lying on the same couch. Then at dawn the prince set out, and, travelling by continuous stages, reached the city of Káverí, and then the King Surasundara, with his suite, came to meet him. The festive entry into the city took place amid universal rejoicing. A palace was prepared for the marriage; the prince was adorned. Then, on a day fixed by the astrologers, he married Rukmiņi. One day, when Rukmiņí was sitting on the prince's lap, she said to him : 'Lord of my life, what sort of a person was that unfortunate Rishidattá who captivated your soul?' Then the prince said: 'How can I describe in detail the perfections of that Rishidattá? In comparison with her beauty, the wife of the god of love is a mere slave girl, Menaká is only fit to be her mask, and the wives of the serpents are the dust of her feet. But since I am deprived of her by the decree of Fate, you have become dear to me. For if one cannot obtain a razor, is not
* These appear to be different kinds of lotus. The sudden affection that the prince conceives for the hermit reminds one of Cymbeline's feeling towards his daughter when she was disguised as a page.