13. Having taken a brilliant jewel whose effect illumined his diadem, he stood, uttering these words, like the mountain Mawdara with the sun resting on it: 14. ‘By thee with this jewel, O ATtawda, having offered him repeated obeisance, the king, with his loving confidence still unshaken, must be enjoined to stay his grief.
15. “‘I have entered the ascetic-wood to destroy old age and death, — with no thirst for heaven, with no lack of love nor feeling of anger.
1 Cranibhavati may be a quaint expression for para^ano bhavati, — this seems the meaning of the Tibetan. Or we might read^anyo bhavati.
s Anrfrawsa (for anrxrawsya), see Pawini V, x, igogawa.
64 THE BUDDHA-tfARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
1 6. ‘ “ Do not think of mourning for me who am thus gone forth from my home; union, however long it may last, in time will come to an end.
17. Since separation is certain, therefore is my mind fixed on liberation; how shall there not be repeated severings from one’s kindred?
18. ‘ “ Do not think of mourning for me who am gone forth to leave sorrow behind; it is the thralls of passion, who are attached to desires, the causes of sorrow, for whom thou shouldst mourn.
19. This was the firm persuasion of our prede¬ cessors, — I as one departing by a common road am not to be mourned for by my heir.
20. ‘ “ At a man’s death there are doubtless heirs to his wealth; but heirs to his merit are hard to find on the earth or exist not at all.
21. ‘ “ Even though thou sayest, ‘ He is gone at a wrong time to the wood,’ — there is no wrong time for religious duty (dharma), life being fragile as it is.
22. ‘ “Therefore my determination is, ‘ I must seek my supreme good this very day;’ what confidence can there be in life, when death stands as our adversary? ” 23. ‘Do thou address the king, O friend, with these and such-like words; and do thou use thy efforts so that he may not even remember me.
24. ‘Yea, do thou repeat to the king our utter unworthiness; through unworthiness affection is lost, — and where affection is lost, there is no sorrow.’
25. Having heard these words, AAawda, over¬ whelmed with grief, made reply with folded hands, his voice choked by tears: 26. ‘ At this state of mind of thine, causing afffic- 65 tion to thy kindred, my mind, O my lord, sinks down like an elephant in the mud of a river.
27. ‘To whom would not such a determination as this of thine cause tears, even if his heart were of iron, — how much more if it were throbbing with love?
28. * Where 1 is this delicacy of limb, fit to lie only in a palace, — and where is the ground of the ascetic- forest, covered with the shoots of rough kusa grass?
29. ‘When, on hearing thy resolve, I first brought thee this horse, — it was fate only, O my lord, which made me do it, mastering my will.
30. ‘But how could I, O king, by mine own will, — knowing this thy decision, — carry back the horse to the sorrow of Kapilavastu?
31. ‘Surely thou wilt not abandon, O hero, that fond old king, so devoted to his son, as a heretic might the true religion?
32. ‘And her, thy second mother, worn with the care of bringing thee up, — thou wilt not surely forget her, as an ingrate a benefit?
33. ‘Thou wilt not surely abandon thy queen, endowed with all virtues, illustrious for her family, devoted to her husband and with a young son, as a coward the royal dignity within his reach?
34. ‘ Thou wilt not abandon the young son of Ya^odhara, worthy of all praise, thou the best of the cherishers of religion and fame, as a dissolute spend¬ thrift his choicest glory?
35. ‘Or even if thy mind be resolved to abandon thy kindred and thy kingdom, thou wilt not, O master, abandon me, — thy feet are my only refuge.
1 A common expression (which occurs also in Persian poetry) to imply the incompatibility of two things.
66 THE BUDDHA-EARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
36. ‘ I cannot go to the city with my soul thus burning, leaving thee behind in the forest as Sumitra1 left the son of Raghu, 37. ‘What will the king say to me, returning to the city without thee? or what shall I say to thy queens by way of telling them good news?
38. ‘ As for what thou saidst, “ thou must repeat my unworthiness to the king” — how shall I speak what is false of thee as of a sage without a fault?
39. ‘ Or even if I ventured to speak it with a heart ashamed and a tongue cleaving to my mouth, who would think of believing it?
40. ‘ He who would tell of or believe the fierce¬ ness of the moon, might tell of or believe thy faults, O physician of faults.
41. ‘Him who is always compassionate and who never fails to feel pity, it ill befits to abandon one who loves; — turn back and have mercy on me.’
42. Having heard these words of Kham^z. over¬ come with sorrow, — self-possessed with the utmost firmness the best of speakers answered: 43. ‘ Abandon this distress, Kham&z., regarding thy separation from me, — change is inevitable in corporeal beings who are subject to different births.
44. ‘ Even if I through affection were not to aban¬ don my kindred in my desire for liberation, death would still make us helplessly abandon one another.
45. ‘ She, my mother, by whom I was borne in the womb with great thirst and pains, — where am I now with regard to her, all her efforts fruitless, and where is she with regard to me?
46. ‘ As birds go to their roosting-tree and then 1 This is the Sumantra of the R&m&yawa II, 57.
depart, so the meeting of beings inevitably ends in separation.
47. ‘As clouds, having come together, depart asunder again, such I consider the meeting and parting of living things.
48. ‘ And since this world goes away, each one of us deceiving the other, — it is not right to think any¬ thing thine own in a time of union which is a dream.
49. 1 Since the trees are parted from the innate colour of their leaves, why should there not still more be the parting of two things which are alien to each other?
50. ‘ Therefore, since it is so, grieve not, my good friend, but go; or if thy love lingers, then go and afterwards return.
51. ‘ Say, without reproaching us, to the people in Kapilavastu, “ Let your love for him be given up, and hear his resolve.
52. ‘ “ Either he will quickly come back, having destroyed old age and death; or else he will himself perish, having failed in his purpose and lost hold of every support.” ’ v/53. Having heard his words, Ka»zthaka,the noblest of steeds, licked his feet with his tongue and dropped hot tears.
54. With his hand whose fingers were united with a membrane and which was marked with the auspi¬ cious svastika, and with its middle part curved ‘, the prince stroked him and addressed him like a friend: 55. ‘Shed not tears, Kawthaka, this thy perfect 1 Professor Kielhom suggests fekra-madhyena, * with a wheel in its centre,’ cf. VIII, 55.
68 THE BUDDHA-JTARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
equine nature has been proved, — bear with it, this thy labour will soon have its fruit.’
56. Then seizing the sharp jewelled sword which was in KAamdakas hand, he resolutely drew out from the sheath the blade decked with golden orna¬ ments, like a serpent from its hole.
57. Having drawn it forth, dark blue like a blue lotus petal, he cut his decorated tiara and his hair, and he tossed it with its scattered muslin into the air as a grey goose into a lake.
58. And the heavenly beings, with a longing to worship it, seized it respectfully as it was thrown up; and the divine hosts paid it due adoration in heaven with celestial honours.
w 59. Having thus divorced his ornaments and banished all royal magnificence from his head, and seeing his muslin floating away like a golden goose, the stedfast prince desired a sylvan dress.
60. Then a celestial being, wearing the form of a hunter, pure in heart, knowing his thoughts, ap¬ proached near him in dark-red garments; and the son of the 6akya king thus addressed him: 61. ‘ Thy red garments are auspicious, the sign of a saint; but this destructive bow is not befitting; therefore, my good friend, if there is no strong pre¬ ference in the matter, do thou give me that dress and take this of mine.’
62. The hunter replied, ‘ It has given me my desire *, O giver of desires, as by this I have inspired 1 I have taken drat as from a + ra, but Professor Kielhorn suggests that it might mean ‘near.’ ‘Although in this dress I make the deer come confidently close to me and then kill them, yet take it if you want it.’ [The Tibetan seems to have read kamasarat, — Qdod-pa siiin-po las, ‘from essence of desire.’ H.W.]
69 animals with confidence and then killed them; but if thou hast need of it, O thou who art like Indra, accept it at once and give me the white dress.’
63. With extreme joy he then took that sylvan dress and gave away the linen one; and the hunter, assuming his heavenly form, having taken the white garment, went to heaven.
64. Then the prince and the attendant of the horse were filled with wonder as he was thus going, and forthwith they paid great honour anew to that sylvan dress.
65. Then the great-souled one, having dismissed the weeping X'damda, and wearing his fame veiled by the sign of the red garment, went towards the hermitage, like the king of mountains wrapped in an evening cloud.
66. While his master, thus regardless of his kingdom, was going to the ascetic-wood in mean garments, the groom, tossing up his arms, wailed bitterly and fell on the ground.
67. Having looked again he wept aloud, and embraced the horse Kawzthaka with his arms; and then, hopeless and repeatedly lamenting, he went in body to the city, not in soul.
68. Sometimes he pondered, sometimes he la¬ mented, sometimes he stumbled, and sometimes he fell; and so going along, wretched through his de¬ voted attachment, he performed all kinds of actions in the road without conscious will.
BOOK VII.
1. Then having left the weeping tear-faced Kh^rndz., — indifferent to all things in his longing for the forest, he by whom all objects are accomplished, overpowering the place by his beauty, entered that hermitage as if it were fully blessed.
2. He the prince with a gait like the lion’s, having entered that arena of deer, himself like a deer, — by the beauty of his person, even though bereft of his magnificence, attracted the eyes of all the dwellers in the hermitage.
3. The drivers of wheeled carriages also, with their wives, stood still in curiosity, holding the yokes in their hands, — they gazed on him who was like Indra, and moved not, standing like their beasts of burden with their heads half bent down.
4. And the Br&hmans who had gone outside for the sake of fuel, having come with their hands full of fuel, flowers, and ku^a grass, — pre-eminent as they were in penances, and proficients in wisdom, went to see him, and went not to their cells.
5. Delighted the peacocks uttered their cries, as if they had seen a dark-blue cloud rising up; and leaving the young grass and coming forward, the deer with restless eyes and the ascetics who grazed like deer 1 stood still.
1 A form of ascetic observance, see Mahabh. I, 3644; V, 4072. Cf. infra, rloka 15.
BOOK VII, I — I 3.
71 6. Beholding him, the lamp of the race of Iksh- v&ku, shining like the rising sun, — even though their milking was over, being filled with joy, the oblation-giving cows poured forth their milk.
7. ‘ It is one of the eight Vasus or one of the two Asvins, descended here,’ — these words arose, uttered aloud by the sages in their astonishment at seeing him.
8. Like a second form of the lord of the gods1, like the personified glory of the universe, he lighted up the entire wood like the sun come down of his own accord.
9. Then he, being duly honoured and invited to enter by those dwellers in the hermitage, paid his homage to the saints, with a voice like a cloud in the rainy season 2.
10. He, the wise one, longing for liberation, tra¬ versed that hermitage filled with the holy company desirous of heaven,— gazing at their strange penances.
11. He, the gentle one, having seen the different kinds of penance practised by the ascetics in that sacred grove, — desiring to know the truth, thus ad¬ dressed one of the ascetics who was following him: 12. ‘Since this to-day is my first sight of a hermitage I do not understand this rule of penance; therefore will your honour kindly explain to me what resolve possesses each one of you.’
13. Then the Brahman well- versed in penance told in order to that bull of the S'akyas, a very bull in prowess, all the various kinds of penance and the fruit thereof.
1 Lekharshabha is a rare name of Indra.
2 A conjectural reading.
72 THE BUDDHA-iTARITA OF ASVACHOSHA.
14. * Uncultivated food, growing out of the water, leaves, water, and roots and fruits, — this is the fare of the saints according to the sacred texts; but the different alternatives of penance vary.
1 5. ‘ Some live like the birds on gleaned corn, others graze on grass like the deer, others live on air with the snakes, as if turned into ant-hills \ 16. ‘ Others win their nourishment with great effort from stones, others eat corn ground with their own teeth; some, having boiled for others, dress for themselves what may chance to be left.
1 7. ‘ Others, with their tufts of matted hair con¬ tinually wet with water, twice offer oblations to Agni with hymns; others plunging like fishes into the water dwell there with their bodies scratched by tortoises.
18. ‘By such penances endured for a time, — by the higher they attain heaven, by the lower the world of men; by the path of pain they eventually dwell in happiness.— paim-tbev~.-say. is -the root of merit.’
<" — The king’s son, having heard this speech of the ascetic, even though he saw no lofty truth in it 2, was not content, but gently uttered these thoughts to himself: 20. ‘ The penance is full of pain and of many kinds, and the fruit of the penance is mainly heaven at its best, and all the worlds are subject to change; verily the labour of the hermitages is spent for but little gain.
1 Cf. the legend of the princess Sukanya, given in Wilson’s note, Hindu Drama, I, p. 263.
* Cf. Beal, 517 (or perhaps ‘though he had not himself yet attained the highest truth ’).
BOOK VII, I4-27.
73 21. ‘Those who abandoning wealth, kindred, and worldly objects, undertake vows for the sake of heaven, — they, when parted, only wish to go to a still greater wood of their own again l.
22. ‘He who by all these bodily toils which are called penances, seeks a sphere of action for the sake of desire, — not examining the inherent evils of mun¬ dane existence, he only seeks pain by pain.
23. ‘ There is ever to living creatures fear from death, and they with all their efforts seek to be born again; where there is action, there must in¬ evitably be death, — he is always drowned therein, just because he is afraid.
24. ‘ Some undergo misery for the sake of this world, others meet toil for the sake of heaven; all living beings, wretched through hope and always missing their aim, fall certainly for the sake of happiness into misery.
25. ‘ It is not the effort itself which I blame, — which flinging aside the base pursues a high path of its own; but the wise, by all this common toil, ought to attain that state in which nothing needs ever to be done again.
26. ‘ If the mortification of the body here is religion, then the body’s happiness is only irreligion; but by religion a man obtains happiness in the next world, therefore religion here bears irreligion as its fruit 2 7. ‘ Since it is only by the mind’s authority that the body either acts or ceases to act, therefore to control the thought is alone befitting, — without the thought the body is like a log.
1 Their desired heaven will only be a fresh penance -grove.
74 THE BUDDHA-itARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
28. ‘ If merit is gained by purity of food, then there is merit also in the deer; and in those men also who live as outcasts from all enjoyments, through being estranged from them by the fault of their destiny.
29. ‘ If the deliberate choice of pain is a cause of merit, why should not that same choice be directed to pleasure? If you say that the choice of pleasure carries no authority, is not the choice of pain equally without authority?
30. ‘So too those who for the sake of purifying their actions, earnestly sprinkle water on themselves, saying, “ this is a sacred spot,” — even there this satisfaction resides only in the heart, — for waters will not cleanse away sin.
31. ‘The water which has been touched by the virtuous, — that is the spot, if you wish for a sacred spot on the earth; therefore I count as a place of pilgrimage only the virtues of a virtuous man1, — water without doubt is only water.’
32. Thus he uttered his discourse full of various arguments, and the sun went down into the west; then he entered the grove where penances had now ceased and whose trees were gray with the smoke of the (evening) oblations; 33. Where the sacred fires had been duly trans¬ ferred when kindled to other spots, — all crowded with the holy hermits who had performed their ablutions, and with the shrines of the gods murmur¬ ing with the muttered prayers, — it seemed all alive like the full service of religion in exercise.
34. He spent several nights there, himself like 1 Gu»Sn eva?
75 the moon, examining their penances; and he de¬ parted from that penance-field, feeling that he had comprehended the whole nature of penance.
35. The dwellers of the hermitage followed him with their minds fixed on the greatness of soul visible in his person, as if they were great seers beholding Religion herself, withdrawn from a land invaded by the base.
36. Then he looked on all those ascetics with their matted hair, bark garments, and rag-strips waving, and he stood considering their penances under an auspicious and noble tree by the way-side.
37. Then the hermits having approached stood surrounding the best of men; and an old man from among them thus addressed him respectfully in a gentle voice: 38. ‘ At thy coming the hermitage seems to have become full, it becomes as it were empty when thou art gone, — therefore, my son, thou wilt not surely desert it, as the loved life the body of one who wishes to live.
39. ‘In front stands the holy mountain Himavat, inhabited by Brahmarshis, ra^arshis, and surarshis; by whose mere presence the merit of these penances becomes multiplied to the ascetics.
40. ‘ Near us also are holy spots of pilgrimage, which become ladders to heaven; loved by divine sages and saints whose souls are intent on devotion and who keep their souls in perfect control.
41. ‘From hence, again, the Northern quarter is especially to be fitly followed for the sake of pre¬ eminent merit; even one who was wise starting towards the south could not advance one single step.
42. ‘ Hast thou seen in this sacred grove one who 76 THE BUDDHA-JSTARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
neglects all ceremonies or who follows confused ceremonies or an outcast or one impure, that thou dost not desire to dwell here? Speak it out, and let the abode be welcomed.
43. ‘These hermits here desire thee as their companion in penance, thee who art like a store¬ house of penance, — to dwell with thee who art like Indra would bring prosperity even to Wz'haspati.’
44- He, the chief of the wise, when thus addressed in the midst of the ascetics by their chief — having resolved in his mind to put an end to all existence — thus uttered his inward thought: 45. ‘ The upright-souled saints, the upholders of religion, become the very ideal of our own kindred through their delight in showing hospitality; by all these kind feelings of thine towards me affection is produced in me and the path which regards the self as supreme1 is revealed.
46. ‘ I seem to be all at once bathed by these gentle heart-touching words of thine, and the joy now throbs in me once more which I felt when I first grasped the idea of d harm a.
47. ‘ There is sorrow to me when I reflect that I shall have to depart, leaving you who are thus engaged, you who are such a refuge and who have shown such excessive kindness to me, — just as there was when I had to leave my kindred behind.
48. ‘ But this devotion of yours is for the sake of heaven, — while my desire is that there may be no fresh birth; therefore I wish not to dwell in this wood; the nature of cessation is different from that of activity.
49. ‘ It is not therefore any dislike on my part or 77 the wrong conduct of another, which makes me go away from this wood; for ye are all like great sages, standing fast in the religious duties which are in accordance with former ages.’
50. Then having heard the prince’s discourse, gracious and of deep meaning, gentle, strong, and full of dignity, the ascetics paid him especial honour.
51. But a certain Brahman who was lying there in the ashes, tall and wearing his hair in a tuft, and clothed in the bark of trees, with reddish eyes and a thin long nose, and carrying a pot with water 1 in his hand, thus lifted his voice: 52. ‘ O sage, brave indeed is thy purpose, who, young as thou art, hast seen the evils of birth; he who, having pondered thoroughly heaven and liberation, makes up his mind for liberation, — he is indeed brave!
53. ‘By all those various sacrifices, penances, and vows the slaves of passion desire to go to heaven; but the strong, having battled with passion as with an enemy, desire to obtain liberation.
54. ‘If this is thy settled purpose, go quickly to Vindhyakosh^a; the Muni A rat/a lives there who has gained an insight into absolute bliss.
55. ‘From him thou wilt hear the path to truth, and if thou hast a desire for it, thou wilt embrace it; but as I foresee, this purpose of thine will go on further, after having rejected his theory.
56. ‘ With the nose of a well-fed horse, large long eyes, a red lower lip, white sharp teeth, and a thin red tongue, — this face of thine will drink up the entire ocean of what is to be known.
1 Conjectural. Dr. von Bohtlingk suggests kuwifavahasto, 1 the back of whose hand was like a ku mda..’
78 THE BUDDHA-iTARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
57. ‘That unfathomed depth which characterises thee, that majesty and all those signs of thine, — they shall win a teacher’s chair in the earth which was never won by sages even in a former age.’
58. The prince replied, ‘ Very well,’ and having saluted the company of sages he departed; the hermits also having duly performed to him all the rites of courtesy entered again into the ascetic- grove.
BOOK VIII.
1. Meanwhile the attendant of the horse, in deep distress, when his unselfish master thus went into the forest, made every effort in the road to dis¬ solve 1 his load of sorrow, and yet in spite of it all not a tear dropped from him.
2. But the road which by his lord’s command he had traversed in one night with that horse, — that same road he now travelled in eight days, pondering his lord’s absence.
3. And the horse Kawthaka, though he still went on bravely, flagged and had lost all spirit in his heart; and decked though he was with ornaments, he had lost all his beauty when bereft of his master.
4. And turning round towards that ascetic-grove, he neighed repeatedly with a mournful sound; and though pressed with hunger, he welcomed not nor tasted any grass or water on the road, as before 2.
5. Slowly they two at last came back to the city called after Kapila, which seemed empty when deserted by that hero who was bent on the 1 Vigraha seems here used in an unusual sense. Cf. Tennyson’s ‘ Home they brought her warrior dead, &c.’
2 I read nabhinananda, supposing na to have been written on the margin and inserted in the wrong place, otherwise abhis must be used for abhi. [This is confirmed by the Tibetan, which translates abhinanandaby mnon-par ma dga, where mnon-par is the usual translation of the preposition abhi. H.W.]
8o THE BUDDHA-XARITA OF ASVAGHOSHA.
salvation of the world, — like the sky bereft of the sun.
6. Bright as it was with lotus-covered waters, adorned also with trees full of flowers, that garden of his, which was now like a forest, was no longer gay with citizens who had lost all their gladness.
7. Then those two, — who were as it were silently forbidden by the sad inhabitants who were wander¬ ing in that direction, their brightness gone and their eyes dim with tears, — slowly entered the city which seemed all bathed in gloom.
8. Having heard that they had returned with their limbs all relaxed, coming back without the pride of the 6akya race, the men of the city shed tears in the road, as when in old days the chariot of the son of Dasaratha came back.
9. Full of wrath, the people followed vOawdaka in the road, crying behind him with tears, ‘ Where is the king’s son, the glory of his race and kingdom? he has been stolen away by thee.’
10. Then he said to those faithful ones, ‘ I have not left the king’s son; but by him in the unin¬ habited forest I weeping and the dress of a house¬ holder were abandoned together.’
11. Having heard these words of his those crowds adopted a most difficult resolve; they did not wipe away the tears which fell from their eyes, and they blamed their own (evil) hearts on account of the consequences of their actions; 12. Then they said, ‘Let us go this very day into that forest, whither he is gone, whose gait is like the king of elephants; without him we have no wish to live, like the senses when the souls depart.
BOOK VIII, 6-20.
8l 13. ‘ This city bereft of him is a forest, and that forest which possesses him is a city; the city with¬ out him has no charms for us, like heaven without the lord of the Maruts, when Vrftra was slain V 14. Next the women crowded to the rows of windows, crying to one another, ‘ The prince has returned; ’ but having heard that his horse had an empty back, they closed the windows again and wailed aloud.
15. But the king, having undertaken religious observances for the recovery of his son, with his mind distressed by the vow and the sorrow, was muttering prayers in the temple, and performing such rites as suited the occasion.
16. Then with his eyes filled with tears, — taking the horse, his whole soul fixed on the horse, — over¬ come with grief he1 2 entered the palace as if his master had been killed by an enemy.
17. And entering the royal stable, looking about with his eyes full of tears, Kawthaka uttered a loud sound, as if he were uttering his woe to the people.
1 8. Then the birds that fed in the middle of the house, and the carefully cherished horses that were tied near by, re-echoed the sound of that horse, thinking that it might be the return of the prince.
19. And the people, deceived by an excessive joy, who were in the neighbourhood of the king’s inner apartments, thought in their hearts, ‘ Since the horse Kamthaka neighs, it must be that the prince is coming.’
20. Then the women, who were fainting with 2 Sc. AT^andaka.
82 THE BUDDHA-iTARITA OF ASV AGHOSHA.
sorrow, now in wild joy, with their eyes rolling to see the prince, rushed out of the palace full of hope, like flickering lightnings from an autumn cloud.
21. With their dress hanging down, and their linen garments soiled, their faces untouched by collyrium and with eyes dimmed by tears; dark and discoloured and destitute of all painting1, like the stars in the sky, pale-red with the ending of night; 22. With their feet unstained by red, and un¬ decked by anklets, — their faces without earrings, and their ears in their native simplicity, — their loins with only nature’s fulness, and uncircled by any girdle, — and their bosoms bare of strings of pearls as if they had been robbed.
23. But when they saw A^andaka standing help* less, his eyes filled with tears, and the horse, the noble women wept with pale faces, like cows aban¬ doned by the bull in the midst of the forest.
24. Then the king’s principal queen Gautaml, like a fond cow that has lost her calf, fell bursting into tears on the ground with outstretched arms, like a golden plantain-tree with trembling leaves.
25. Some of the other women, bereft of their brightness and with arms and souls lifeless, and seeming to have lost their senses in their despon¬ dency, raised no cry, shed no tear, and breathed not, standing senseless as if painted 2.
26. Others as having lost all self-control, fainting in their sorrow for their lord, their faces pouring tears from their eyes, watered their bosoms from 1 Is aw^anaya used here irregularly in the fern, to distinguish it from a?ifana, ‘ the pinguent?’ s Conjectural.
BOOK VIII, 21-32.
83 which all sandal-wood was banished, like a mountain the rocks with its streams.
27. Then that royal palace was illumined with their faces pelted by the tears from their eyes, as a lake in the time of the first rains with its dripping lotuses pelted by the rain from the clouds.
28. The noble women beat their breasts with their lotus-like hands, falling incessantly, whose fin¬ gers were round and plump, which had their arteries hidden and bore no ornaments, — as creepers tossed by the wind strike themselves with their shoots.
29. And again how those women shone forth, as their bosoms rose up together after the blow from the hand, and trembled with the shock, — like the streams, when their pairs of ruddy geese shake, as the lotuses on which they sit wave about with the wind from the wood h 30. As they pressed their breasts with their hands, so too they pressed their hands with their breasts, — dull to all feelings of pity, they made their hands and bosoms inflict mutual pains on each other.
31. Then thus spoke Ya-rodhari, shedding tears with deep1 2 sorrow, her bosom heaving with her sighs, her eyes discoloured with anger, and her voice choking with emotion through the influence of despondency: 32. ‘Leaving me helplessly asleep in the night, whither, O KAamdaka, is he, the desire of my heart, 1 This is an obscure verse, — yathapi is not clear; I have taken yatha as a ‘how’ of admiration. The latter lines seem to compare the hand swaying with the motion of the bosom to the bird seated on the tossed lotus.