My lord, while wandering like the rest of your friends in search of you, I found myself one evening in a large forest, far from any habitation. Thinking it useless to attempt to go further in an unknown country and in darkness, I prepared to sleep there. Having bathed in the water of a small lake, and made myself a bed of leaves, I lay down under a large tree, commending myself to the deities presiding over the place, and was very soon asleep.

Presently a strange and delightful feeling came over me, gladdening my inmost soul; and I awoke, hardly knowing whether what I saw was a reality or a dream, for on looking round me I saw that I was no longer in the forest, but in a very large and lofty room, lying on a soft couch with white muslin curtains; all around me were a number of sleeping women. Among them my eyes were especially attracted towards a young lady of exceeding beauty, lying in a very graceful attitude, covered only by a silken petticoat, her bosom slowly rising and falling, and her bud-like lower lip quivering with the soft movement of the breath in quiet sleep.

Lost in astonishment, I said to myself; “What has become of that great forest wrapt in darkness? How is my bed of leaves exchanged for this soft couch? Whence is this dome above me, lofty as the great temple of Siva? Who are all these lovely women, like a troop of Apsaras lying down wearied with play? And who can this beautiful lady be? She cannot be a goddess, for the gods do not sleep thus, nor do they perspire, and I see the drops breaking forth on her forehead. She must then be a mortal; but O how lovely! how peacefully she sleeps, as if she had never known the anxieties of love! My heart is drawn towards her.”

With these thoughts I rose up and approached the bed where she lay, and stood looking at her as if entranced, becoming every moment more enamoured, longing to touch her, but held back by the fear of disturbing her.

While I was thus gazing, she gradually awoke, and raising herself into a sitting posture, looked at me attentively with eyes more than half closed. At first her lips were opened, as if she were about to cry out; but, apparently restrained by some secret power, she remained silent, trembling all over, and showing in her countenance the signs of mingled doubt, fear, astonishment, bashfulness, and love; till at last, overcome again by sleep, she slowly sank down again on the bed.

Almost at the same time I felt myself irresistibly overcome by drowsiness, and was very soon fast asleep.

When I awoke, I found myself on the bed of leaves once more, alone in the gloomy forest, and day was beginning to appear.

When I was quite awake I had some difficulty in collecting my thoughts, and I said to myself: “Can all this of which I have such a vivid impression be other than a reality, or was it only a dream, a magical delusion? Whatever it may be, I will not quit this place till I find out the truth, and I will place myself under the protection of the deity who sent the vision.”

Having formed this resolution, I was waiting where I had slept, when I saw approaching me a female form faded like a flower scorched by the sun, with eyes red from weeping, lips parched by the hot breath of sighs, wearing a scanty black dress, without ornaments, and with her hair in a single braid, like an affectionate wife mourning for the absence of her husband; and with all this having an air of divine dignity, which made me regard her with reverence, and think that she might be the tutelary goddess of the place, to whom I had commended myself; and I prostrated myself before her. But she raised me up with her arms, and after kissing me again and again, said, with a voice broken by tears and sobs, “O, my darling, surely you have heard from the Queen Vasumati how one night a fairy appeared to her, and placing the child Arthapala in her arms, told her husband’s name and her own; and how the child was brought by order of Kuvera; and then disappeared. I am that fairy your mother. Bewildered by unreasonable jealousy and anger, I abandoned my husband, your father, Kamapala; and for that sin I was cursed by Durga, who condemned me to be possessed by an evil spirit for a year. That year, which seemed to me like a thousand years, is ended; and I am now come from the great festival of Siva, where I have met my relations, who had assembled there, and have received full pardon from the goddess.

“In my way thither, I passed by this place, saw you about to lie down, and heard your prayer to the local deity.

“Being still partly under the influence of the curse, I did not recognise you as my son. Yet even as a stranger I felt an interest in you, and could not bear the thought of leaving you exposed to danger in such a wild place. I therefore waited till you were fast asleep; and having considered where I could deposit you while I was gone to meet the goddess, since I could not take you with me, it occurred to me to carry you to the palace of the King of Sravasti, and leave you to sleep there till my return. I therefore carried you through the air, and placed you in the sleeping apartment of the Princess Navamalika, feeling sure that no one would disturb you there. I then went to the temple; and after paying due worship to Siva, and receiving the congratulations of my assembled friends, I was dismissed by the goddess, who said: ’You are forgiven; the curse is ended; go and be happy with your husband.’ After which I returned to the palace; and taking you up, brought you to this place, and laid you, still sleeping, on your bed of leaves. Since then, I have been watching for your awaking; for as soon as the curse was removed, I knew you to be my son.

“I must now leave you, and go to your father. I know what passed in the palace; how you have fallen in love with the princess, and her feelings towards you. Do not despond; before long you will see her again.”

She then warmly embraced me; and saying: “I go with reluctance, farewell for the present,” she departed.

Having thus found the supposed dream to be a reality, and that the lady whom I had seen was the Princess Navamalika, I was confirmed in my love, and set out for Sravasti, determined, if possible, to see her again.

On the road, I came to a village where there was a large fair and a great concourse of traders. Various amusements were going on; among others, a cock-fight, which I stopped to look at, and sat down near an old brahmán, who was watching the fight with great interest. On seeing me smile, he asked the reason; and I answered: “What simpletons some of the breeders here must be to pit a Balaka cock against one of the Narikela breed, which is sure to win.”

With a knowing look, he whispered to me: “Hush! these blockheads know no better. I see you are a sharp fellow; sit quiet and say nothing.” Then he offered me betel and pawn from his box; and we got into conversation.

Meanwhile, the birds fought furiously; and there was much vociferation on both sides; but, as I had predicted, the Balaka cock was beaten. The old man was delighted at the victory of the other, which was his own. He seemed to have taken a great liking to me, though our ages were so different, and invited me to his house, where I was very hospitably treated, and passed the night.

The next morning he accompanied me some distance on the way to Sravasti; and said, at parting: “Remember, I am your friend; do not hesitate to apply to me if there is anything in which I can help you.”

After he had left me, I continued my journey; and arriving late and very tired at Sravasti, I lay down to sleep in an arbour in one part of the park outside the city. There I slept soundly till awakened by the noise of the swans and other birds in a lake not far off.

Soon after I had risen, I heard the tinkling of anklets, and saw a young lady walking towards me, with a painted canvas in her hand. When she came near, she looked first at me, and then at the painting. This she did several times, and was evidently surprised and pleased at the comparison On casting an eye on the picture, I also was much surprised, finding it to be a portrait of myself.

Feeling sure that the likeness could not be accidental, and that there must be some reason for her making the comparison and seeming so pleased at the result, I would not at first make any inquiry of her, but merely said: “This is a public place; we need not stand on ceremony; pray sit down with me.” This she did; and we got into conversation about the news of the town.

At last she said to me: “You seem to be quite a stranger here, and look as if you were travel-tired. Will you be offended if I ask you to come and rest at my house?”

“Offended!” I answered. “You do me a very great favour; I shall be most delighted to accept your invitation.” Upon this, she rose, and I followed her to her house, where I was most kindly entertained. When I was refreshed with bathing and food, she said to me: “You have been travelling about in various countries. Have you, in your travels, met with any very extraordinary adventure?”

On hearing this question, I thought: “I have now good ground for hope. The picture represents that very room which I saw, with its lofty ceiling and white canopies even the bed where the princess was lying. Instigated by love, she has doubtless painted my portrait from recollection; and, in the hope that I may be discovered through the likeness, has entrusted it to this lady who has now invited me to her house. She evidently thinks that I am the person; but hesitates to put a direct question to me. If I am right, I will soon remove her doubt.”

I asked her, therefore: “Will you allow me to examine that picture?” She put it into my hand; and I drew on it the princess lying as I had seen her; and giving it back, said: “One night, while sleeping in a forest, I had a very wonderful dream. I found myself lying in just such a room as that which is represented in this painting; and saw there a very beautiful young lady, such as I have painted here; could that have been anything more than a dream?”

When she heard this, her face lighted up, and she answered: “That was no dream, but a reality; and you are indeed the person I was looking for.” Then she told me the whole story; how the princess had seen and fallen in love with me; and how she had painted that picture and given it to her friend, that it might be the means of discovering me; and how delighted she would now be to hear that I was found at last.

I begged her to assure the princess that I was even more anxious to see her, and had come to Sravasti solely from the hope of finding her.

“If your friend is disposed to favour me,” I continued, “beg her to wait patiently a few days; I will arrange a plan which will enable us to be together in her apartments, without danger to either of us.” To this she agreed, and having taken leave of her, I went back to the village where the old brahmán lived, whom I had met at the cock-fight. I found him at home, and delighted to see me. After I was rested and refreshed, he asked me, “What has brought you back so soon? is there anything in which you require my assistance?”

“There is,"’ I answered, “a very important affair, in which you can materially assist me. The King of the Sravastans, Dharmavardhana, whose character corresponds with his name, has a very beautiful daughter. By an extraordinary chance, I have seen and fallen in love with her. I have reason to believe that she was equally struck by me, but know not how to contrive a meeting between us without your help; will you therefore assist me?”

“What is your plan?” he asked, “and how can I be of service in carrying it out?”

“My plan is this,” I replied. “I will dress as a woman, and pass for your daughter; and you are so clever and ready-witted, that I think you will be able to get me into the palace as a companion to the princess, and even to manage so that she shall become my wife.” Then I told him how I thought this might be accomplished; and he quite approved of what I proposed, entered into it with great spirit, and promised his ready co-operation.

Accordingly, the first day that the king was sitting in public to administer justice, the old man approached, followed by me dressed as a woman, walking modestly behind him, and bowing down to the king, he said: “My lord, I have heard of your great beneficence, and how you are the father of all your subjects, the protector and friend of the helpless; I am therefore come to ask a great favour. This girl is my only daughter. Her mother died soon after her birth. I have brought her up, and she has never left me; but I am desirous now to be relieved of this charge and to see her well married. A long time ago, she was engaged to a young brahmán, who went to Oujein, to study there, and acquire the means of supporting a wife and family. I have been expecting his return for some time, but have heard nothing of him; I am, therefore, very uneasy on my daughter’s account, and purpose to go to Oujein, and find out whether he is alive or dead. I cannot leave my daughter alone, and have no friend or near relation with whom I can place her. Will your majesty deign to allow her to remain under your protection until my return?”

To this the king graciously assented, and I was received into the palace, where I soon found means of letting the princess know of my disguise, and was taken into her apartments as one of her immediate attendants.

Thus our wishes were gratified, and we enjoyed uninterrupted intercourse with each other. But more was yet to be done, and when the time was nearly arrived at which it had been arranged between me and the old brahmán that he was to come to fetch me, I said to my darling: “To-morrow, as you know, there will be a procession to a certain holy place near the river; you and your attendants will join in it and have an opportunity of bathing there. While we are in the water, I will scream out, as if drowning, and, diving underneath the surface, will come up among the bushes a long way off, without being seen. Do you appear greatly distressed at my death; but fear nothing, I shall soon come to you again.”

Accordingly, the next day, while bathing in the Ganges, I made it appear as if I were accidentally carried out of my depth and drawn in by one of the eddies of the river, and screamed out loudly for help. My cries and screams and subsequent disappearance caused a great commotion, and long search was made for my body; but of course in vain, for I had dived under, and come to the surface unobserved among the thick bushes at the place which had been agreed upon. There, having gone on shore, I soon found the old brahmán, who was waiting for me with a suit of men’s clothes, and, putting them on, I walked quietly with him into the town.

The next day, as if he had heard nothing of the loss of his pretended daughter, he went to the king, accompanied by me, and said “My lord, I have returned from Oujein, and have brought with me this young man, the intended husband of my daughter, with whom I am much pleased, and whom I can confidently recommend to your favour, for I have heard an exceedingly good report of him there. He is not only very learned in the vedas and commentaries, advanced in science and arts, well instructed in politics and history, clever in reciting stories and poetry, but is a bold and skilful rider, a good archer and swordsman. There is scarcely anything that a young man should know, with which he is not familiar; and, with all this, he is free from conceit, good-tempered, gentle, and kind; in short, he seems to me almost perfect, and more fit to marry a princess than the daughter of such a man as I am. When I have seen my child happily married to him, I shall not trouble them with my society, but withdraw from the world, and end my days in a hermitage. I have now come to take back my daughter, with the most humble and heartfelt gratitude for the gracious protection which you have so kindly afforded her.” With these words he bowed himself to the ground in humble obeisance.

On hearing this the king was greatly perplexed, and obliged to admit that the girl had been drowned while bathing, and that her body had not been found.

Then the old man began to tear his hair, beat his breast, and show signs of the most extravagant grief, calling on the king to restore his dear daughter, and reproaching him with having caused her death. In vain did the king make him large offers of compensation; he refused them all, declaring it to be his firm intention to put himself to death at the gate of the palace, and so cause the sin to fall on the king’s head.

He, despairing of finding any other way of appeasing the old man, after some consideration and consultation with his ministers, said to him: “You have told me that your intended son-in-law is a young man of rare abilities, and more fit to be the husband of a princess than of your daughter, and his appearance is very prepossessing; I offer him then my daughter in the place of yours. Will this satisfy you?” Then at last the old man professed to be contented; I was treated with much honour, in due time became the husband of the princess, and reached the summit of my wishes.

After a time, an army was sent by my father-in-law to the assistance of the King of Anga, and, thinking of the possibility of meeting you here, I solicited and obtained the command of it, and my hopes have been fulfilled, since I have now the great pleasure of seeing you.

Having heard this story, the prince remarked: “You have done no deeds of blood, but have gained your ends by gentleness and ingenuity. This is the way approved of by the wise.” Then turning to Mitragupta, he said “It is now your turn,” and he immediately began his story thus: