This work is licenced under the Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 Unported Licence. To view a copy of the licence, visit https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ or send a letter to Creative Commons, 444 Castro Street, Suite 900, Mountain View, California, 94041, USA.
Paper manuscript, folio format. 93 pages with about 25 lines each, except the last page which
only has 6 lines. The script is very clear and beautiful.
Which script?
Palm-leaf manuscript. 121 leaves in Balinese script. The order of the pages (lontars) is erratic, as mentioned earlier. Every lontar has 4 lines, except lontar 6 which seems to be a copy of lontar 11, and lontar 121, which has only 2 lines. The script is beautiful and clear, and comes out very well in the photographic copy, but the edges are mostly dark. Apart from that some lontars are damaged by age, i.e. lontar 9, 10, 14, 25, 26, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 41, 42, 51, 52, 53, 54, 56, 63, and 64. Severely damaged are lontar 11, 12, 45, and 46. Almost one third of these lontars is blank. No marginal notes are found, but the erratic order of the lontars gives evidence, that it is interfered with.
Encoded in TEI according to the Conventions of Project DHARMA
May 2018: - w converted to v - ṅ converted to ṅ
At the copper age Lord Wiṣṇu descended on earth as a human being. Nowhere else than in the parwas would the story be described as an act of one who imbibed [the knowledge]. It is believed that the opening hymn is capable to purify all the impurities of the listeners and to establish the mind of the poet to keep writing the book.
Then let me be given the hope to be able to increase the beauty by elaborating on the story, so that it can be likened to a sprout of the gaḍuṅ-plant‚ eagerly waiting for the drops of rain to fall. Then after a while of showers and aroused by thunder, it starts to grow a little and when it is fully grown, it will have many branches, leaves and flowers, giving rise to wonder [in the hearts] of those who see.
However let me not be charmed too quickly by the [expectations] of such beauty, because there are yet a great deal to be done [to reveal] the beauty. It is like the bumble-bee, wondering through the bushes of asana-flowers while searching for honey, without regard to the cold and gusty wind or cowered by dew or burnt by the sun. Its only purpose that matters is to get the essence of the flowers and that is honey.
Because the road to the mastering of the art of story-writing is difficult like scaling a mountain. The stress and strain [in connection with the writing] of a poem must be overcome and brought under control, because it is not a pleasure trip [through a garden of roses]. It is like scaling a mountain, hardship and tiredness have to be faced, in order to find satisfaction, as the result of leaning on a pen as on a walking-stick and wandering along the valleys of the writing-pad.
Although [the life of] a poet is that hard, yet I do not want to leave it, because I want to meet the call of my heart. Also my adoration to Lord Wiṣṇu who had lead me to worship [him], by composing the story of Lord Krəṣṇa's wedding to Princess Rukmiṇī. Perhaps the feeling is like this, which is felt by people of elevated souls.
There was an extremely beautiful capital city, very well-planned which explained its intense beauty, known as the capital city of Dwārawatī. It was formerly a village located near the ocean, newly built into an excellent city, famous for its affluence and good life, well-established down to its gates. Furthermore, the reigning ruler was called Garuḍadhwaja (the bearer of the garuḍa-banner), known to the world as Lord Krəṣṇa.
However there was one impediment for the kingdom, in the form of the most powerful king of Yawana. The news was around that he had received a boon from God Rudra, that he would never be killed in battle by a member of the Yadu race. Therefore he [the king of Yawana] wanted to attack King Krəṣṇa forcefully, with his amazing host of demons, hundreds of thousands in number, together with vehicles and elephants.
Then he [King Krəsṇa] used his mastery of dharma (religious knowledge) and yoga (communion with the Supreme Deity) as defence against the enemy in the form of demons. He did not face the enemy in battle; instead he fled away, not because of fear, but because he had in mind an excellent strategy. He took his refuge with Priest Mucukunda, who was asleep in a cave on the slopes of the Himawān mountain. He hid himself under the couch of the great priest, looking for protection.
Not a minute later, the king of Yawana burst into the cave (of the mountain) in pursuit. He saw Priest Mucukunda, but his eyes and intellect were blinded into deceit. "Eey‚ son of Basudewa, you are deceitful, because you remain silent and do not utter a word. It is not allowed for a powerful hero to kill an opponent whilst he is asleep".
So he said, stepped forward and gave [the sleeping man] a kick. Let us relate the priest who was suddenly awakened. He was startled and looked very angry and fierce, his eyebrows moved creating furrows on his forehead, out of anger. From his eyes fire issued forth which turned into viṣānala (poisonous fire), flaring and flaming amazingly. It was exactly like the eyes of God Iśwara which issued fire to burn the god of love.
Roaring and flaring highly it enveloped King Kālayawana and set him ablaze together with his host and vehicles. They were annihilated, burnt to ashes without a single survival. Then King Krəṣṇa came out quickly to pay homage at the feet of the great priest, whose mind turned spotless clear once more. His anger disappeared like image in water.
They looked friendly, because they were happy to meet each other and conversing amiably; they came out of the cave. Let us leave them. After the conversation they bade each other farewell. The perfect sage returned to his contemplation in remembrance of God Śiwa. In short, he returned to the abode of the gods and ceased to be in a human form.
On the other hand. King Krəṣṇa made his vay back to his country in a delightful journey. Women, jewels etc were captured and taken as booty from the city of Yawana. All the Yadu people were in glea and joy, because they found happiness in the bliss of their protector.
When King Krəṣṇa came back safe and sound, he planned to beautify his capital city. The region of Dwāravatī was once again purified with mantras, prayers and hymns, bad and auspicious times were taken into consideration by the great astrologers. The star [chosen] was Rohiṇī, signifying good [fortune] and victory. Thus was the verdict concerning the time [found in the scriptures].
Thus the purification ceremony of the capital city was performed to perfection, so that the whole kingdom of Dwārawatī became firmly secured. An excellent builder by the name of Wiśwakarmmā, an architect of the gods who was renowned in the art of carving, came.
Soon a beautiful palace for the king was built by Wiśwakarmmā, with great five aspects in all kinds of excellent finish. The audience hall, together with the royal square were already built strong and attractive. It was ten times better in style and refinement than before.
Its only fault was that it [the royal square], was rather narrow and too close to the sea. Also the roaring and thundering sound of the breakers falling unto the rocks was loud beyond comparison. These were the reasons that God Baruṇa was summoned by King Krəṣṇa, to which he obliged very quickly. He did not object to withdraw the flow of the water of the sea [a bit further back].
So the line of the coast was drawn back and the soil perfectly hardened and cleared. It became an appealing spot, because a busy market was founded there under the shades of bodhi, tangtang and banyan trees. A big river flowiṅ dangerously from the hills was perfectly dyked off [on both sides] with stones, increasing the boundaries of the palace compound. The area of the audience hall was nice and enthralling.
The walls around the city were thick and strong; the inhabitants were harmonious in their propensities and the officials were staunchly judicious, e.g. Kaswa, Uddhawa, Wikaddha, Anadrəsya were always prudent and of excellent behaviour. Also the brahmins were paramount in the knowledge of the holy scriptures (Wedas) and highly dexterous in their expertise.
So the administration buildings were always busy and emissaries from foreign countries were coming and going. The devout ministers as well as the religious clergy in the mountains were well-trained horsemen. There was no horse throughout the region of Dwārakā which was without walls, and all the wagons and horses had their own places.
It was a pity that not all the subjects were contented: some were poor, because there were too many people. They made a representation at the feet of King Krəṣṇa asking for an increase of income, causing anxiety to the king. The Śaiwa and Buddhist priests made also a representation to the king with a report that they did not have enough means to live on, and so urging the king to give them more assistance.
That was the reason that the god of wealth (Dhanādhipa) was summoned by King Krəṣṇa (Surendrānuja) and was ordered to shower wealth to give the people means to live. Jewels and precious stones then poured down from the sky, and the people throughout the kingdom were in delight and praised [the king] vehemently. Indeed it was the gift of the generous god of wealth (Weśrawaṇa) (who gave them the gold and silver).
There was an audience hall of the deities, famed to be the house of communion of the gods. It was said, that King Krəṣṇa decided it to be transfered to Dwārawatī. God Bāyu was given the job, and surely soon the hall arrived, brought over by a gusty wind.
Then there in the middle of the city the audience hall Sudharma was placed. The building was really outstanding and the nice carvings were immensely appealing. Everything there had never been seen before; and because they were brought from heaven, they were fabulous. Indeed [Dwārawatī] was not inferior to the abode of Hari, in the reign of King Krəṣṇa.
The palace was perfect, its crown was made of black stone and the doorways were large and marvellous. The walls and gates were carved extensively all around with the story of the crowing of the handsome Rāma. The statues of the door-guards were awe-inspiring, placed nicely here and there, as if really alive, (The hearts of) those seeing them would be in fear, because [the guards] seemed to forbid them to enter [the palace] for audience.
There were big murals of mountains with beautiful sceneries and merus on the walls of houses, that were built in the heart of the palace compound. Beneath it, there was a peacock, relaxing on a roof [of a building], mostly becoming, increasing its refinement. The garden was ringed with a wall shapely topped with cement. On a bench there was a cuckatoo chattering ceaselessly and moving around freely.
Likewise was the temple for the god of wealth, Dhanendra [decorated] ‚ built with pillars of hard and shining kostubha stones. The glitter of the blue saphires and padma-rāga–stones at the joints of the shingles and rafters shone everywhere. The roof was in tiers, shining greenish like young teak wood. Worshippers became softhearted, as [the temple] was like burning in the flame of all the precious stones.
Water issued furiously from wells nearby which were spraying the nāgapuspa-trees. The dykes [of the wells] were made of big stones, nicely arranged like flowers. The water seemed to come out of a hidden spring and the gravel was tossed and thrashed [all the time]. The reflexion of the trees was feebly flashed away by the movement of the water.
It was lonely and shady at the east of the prāsāda (offerings-place) which was cowered by jəring and dewataru-trees. This is the place where the king used to pray, respectfully worshipping the image of God Wiṣṇu. He always came at the beginning of the month and at full moon to pray [here]. This is the behaviour of those who have mercy on the world, namely to be firm in religion without reservation.
A bridge with a roof was specially built extending towards a beauteous island, intended as a resort of entertainments. The glow of the jina-maṇi, studded on the eaves was twinkling everywhere in the water below. flowers which bloomed in the night were arranged thickly on its roof, looking like fireflies [swarming into the light], but the leaves of the cāmara-tree swept [the flowers] away, as they moved to and fro blown by the wind.
Then there was an amusement park which should be described in poetry as the wood and valleys were really fabulous, [because] the knowledge of King Krəṣṇa about all kinds of trees and waterplants was renowned to be like that of a bee almost caught [in a trap] by its eagerness towards a flower before blooming. The bee seemed to flutter around, so keen and desirous of all kinds of fragrance.
It was as if the trees just woke up [from their slumber], as their branches were winding around each other disorderly. The pretty nagasari and bakung-flowers aroused delight, [because] they seemed to be the blessing for this victorious city. The wungu-flowerplants had aśoka-flowers, whilst the asoka-tree was like crazy as it bore wungu-buds. The jangga-creepers had katirah-leaves hanging downwards; on the other hand the katirah bore gaḍung-flowers.
If the forest where the ascetics did their penance, was beyond description in beauty, the sceneries in the amusement park were like pictures. A manggosteen-tree was laden with fruit, underneath round holders were arranged in circles to be used as seats. Calm and at ease a peacock drank water from a hole in a cinnamon-tree. And there, playful fawns were asleep under a pavilion [on poles].
It would be extremely stupefying if the ornaments inside and outside the palace should be described. What country or what palace could match the excellence and purity of the capital city of King Krəṣṇa, since it was so close to the mountain of Rewata but also lying along the sea? What admirer of panorama would not be enchanted by the sight of the beach and the mountain?
Rows and rows of houses could be seen from the beach up to the slopes of the mountain. Furthermore the palace and kingdom of King Ugrasena nearby was like a supplement to the region. Also King Baladewa was always in conformity [with King Krəsṇa] and their kingdoms secured [by their brotherhood] ...
Truly, King Krəṣṇa was a young monarch in the bloom of his years. And King Baladewa, it was said, had already in his mind a daughter of an outstanding king, an exquisite jewel of a princess, who was likely to be a match [for his brother. King Krəṣṇa]...
Let us leave [the kingdom of Dwārawatī]. Let us relate a branch of the story. In olden times there was a king, called King Basu without equal [in the world] ‚ known to be the ruler of the kingdom of Cedi.
He has children .......... in knowledge, virtues and good looks representing the god of the moon.
3. Thus they had founded [their own] kingdoms. Let us describe the eldest first, who had perfectly established himself in the prominent kingdom of Magadha, well-known as King Jarāsandha to the world.
.......... a minister (?). There was a younger sister of King Basudewa, called Śrutaśrawā‚ an illustrious princess.
She had five sons of great supernatural powers, who were also handsome and extremely courageous, nobody else [were born] to the great princess. ...................................................
.......... followed by Daśagrīwa of great might, Rebhya, Wīrapaśu, Praśasta. Then the favourite [of them all] was the youngest son, called Bali.
When Prince Jyeṣṭha came of age, he was given to marry a lovely girl by his parents, ...........................
.......... The one receiving the gift was truly grateful. Furthermore the gift was greatly appropriate, like the perfect boon of Lord Yama to the world.
That was the reason vhy the king was called Sunīti. ..........
Well, King Jarāsandha loved him very much. He was very keen in looking for a girl, because he wanted to give her to marry the king of Cedi, who was, it is said, to be at the right age for that purpose.
There was a jewel of a princess .......... [older] brother was called Prince Rukma.
The princess was known to be called Rukmiṇī, and she was the one [chosen] to marry the king of Cedi. King Jarāsandha asked for her hand, no-one else, and it was agreed upon, and so the wedding was fixed.
When King Jarāsandha and King Sunitī departed to the beautiful city of Kuṇḍina, the residence of King Bhīṣmaka, the purpose was nothing else but the wedding.
However, Dewī Prəthukīrtti was in grief and mirthless, oppressed by great sorrow, because she had in mind as son-in-law nobody else than King Krəsna. But the king of Cedi had proposed and [his proposal] accepted. Hov could she not be anxious? She was like a person who wanted to cross a river or an ocean, but no bridge or ferry was in sight.
Her mind was full of plan and scheme, but none was suitable, because she was devoted to her husband. King Bhīṣmaka. She did not dare to oppose his decree. Two, three, five times her mind looked for a solution, since the wise are always cautious [in everything], and for sure this matter could not be rushed.
Only King Kresna, no-one else was fit to become her son-in-law. Also Princess Rukmiṇī seemed to be in love with Indrānuja (Krəṣṇa). This was the reason that the mind of Queen Prəthukīrtti was shilly-shally and unassured. It could be likened to the deliberations in an audience hall which turned into a brawl, because the discord was too great.
So, she had decided to send a messenger to invite King Krəṣṇa to come, because the day of the wedding was drawing near very quickly. She gave the message that Krəṣṇa had to come as soon as possible. There was a lady in waiting who was extremely devoted to her, in whom she had complete trust. She would be a suitable messenger, because she had good manners, was skillful, courageous and discreet.
[The plan would] be executed in the morning, i.e. preparation, departure and the journey. The destination was the city of Dwārawatī to be reached as soon as possible. After a few days of travel, she arrived at the feet of King Krəṣṇa. At a quiet occasion and place she spoke respectfully and calmly:
"Queen Prəthukīrtti has sent me to my lord, urging my lord to come nov, [because] she is worried, she becomes ill and her heart is oppressed by sorrow. And the reason for her illness is her daughter Princess Rukmiṇī, who at the order of King Bhīṣmaka will be given to marry the king of Cedi, King Sunīti.
"All the orders of King Bhīṣmaka cannot be opposed, furthermore Prince Rukma supports [the decision]. Without fail they will come, because all the requirements for the wedding have arrived. Also the King of Cedi without fail and truly will come to Kuṇḍina. All the dowry in the form of clothes, gold, jewelry etc have come already.
"That is the reason your slave is sent as soon as possible to request Your Majesty to come, because according to Your Majesty's aunt, there is no-one else to ask for help [than my lord]. Also Princess Sokasā (Rukmiṇī) hopes very much that my lord may come. Your fame makes everyone love you. Therefore I am sent to hurry you up, my lord.
"It is so. The Princess is really desirable, because her beauty is without equal. She is the manifestation of sentiment and love which turn into passion. She is the goddess of beauty manifesting into pangs of love, invoked to incarnate into a princess. As the product of the churning of the ocean of honey, she was born on earth as a human being.
"All vhat she does, appeals to everyone, who are extremely amazed to see that she is charming when she sits still, when she talks she arouses tender feelings [in everyone]. Even a deity will be bewitched by her, let alone a hunter for love. Sitting she looks lovely, when she is tired she looks sexy, standing up she is statuesque, and when she walks she is ravishing.
"Her eyes, when throwing glances are as sweet as banana from the bush. Her hair, haṅing loose and still wet with water dripping after a hairwash is like being soaked in ardour. The shape of her ears is like being carved [to perfection], her nose and lips are seductive. Her face is so fine and smooth like marble after being polished with glass and washed.
"The Princess is really a good friend of the spirit of beauty in the garden. If you see the slender tendrils of the gaḍuṅ, then it is very close to her slim vaist. Her breasts are beautifully in line with the gorgeous ivory coconut. Her neck which looks like a bough seems to beckon the young shoots.
"Her hair is so beautiful that it looks like a solid mass of bumblebees. When she makes herself up, it is like drawing a picture in golden colours. When she plays [a game] or displays herself, throwing sideglances or looking up in the dark, iris seems to fly away to join the rumbling of thunder.
"It is true that she is the mistress of elegance, her face is the equal to that of the Supreme Goddess. She is the sole guardian of love, regarded as the light of embellishment, the aura of a golden statuette. All kinds of flowers are inferior to her and all of them pay their tribute devotedly by closiṅ their calyxes. The goddess Ratih flees away [to hide herself] ashamed of not being able to compete in beauty with the princess.
"When she was young she looked like a young plant and her body was like a delicate doll made from a pandanus flower. When she almost came of age, her waist was always wrapped tightly, so that (as result) it became so slender. If she bent her body [while in the progress of wrapping her waist, she would be punished], held upright and beaten, until her tears poured down for a long time. She wanted to die, and those seeing her [like that] felt as if their hearts were carved with a knife.
"Her grace is like the stars, the more you count them, the more they come. So, her eyebrows are like the Orion, its exquisite curve gives rise to tender feelings. As a young girl, the princess knows very well how to behave when giving offerings in the evening. Then her shining countenance can only be compared with the shining orb of the moon.
"Her body is divided into cuts like the yellov bamboo, not like that of the reed. Her sweetness is exactly like that of the blue lotus, if it is earth, it looks dark grey like the sky. It is as if she joins in the act of decorating a temple with flowers, by wearing a wreat of nagasari-flowers, spreading fragrance like that of gaḍung, campaka and lotuses together, when the aśoka starts to grow young leaves.
"In the morning she is more beautiful. After make up, she is really divine. She looks like asana-flower with brilliant calyxes, shining brightly, turning back the rays of the sun. When her calves are exposed, they seem to be ashamed of being caressed by the hems of her cloth. That is vhy they are hurt slightly like a young pandanus-flower scratched by its leaves.
"After powdering [her face], she wears her garments. With ease she puts on her pleated kain (cloth), then happily she will come to her lady-in-waiting who has rajasa-flowers [garland] on her lap. Her belly was revealed and looked so beautiful without any cover. The fire of loneliness can be traced in the impressions of the thread (being pulled).
"Late in the afternoon when the day has cooled down a little, she is used to sit [alone], her head in her hands, but her eyes looking up. She looks stupified, as if there is something in her mind like love that may come true. The feeling of heavy yearning abates when she feels her ring (rotating). Sweetly she wipes off the tips of her breasts, wet [by perspiration] sticking onto her breastband.
"She does not care for amusement, her mind is far away. Then she lies down on a bed of withering young leaves. She lullabies her doll until she falls asleep herself. When she wakes up, she wipes off her shoulders to get rid of the calyxes of fragrant lotuses. Sweat runs down her neck onto her beautiful chest, caressing her marvellous breasts.
"Her thick hairknot is a little disorderly, the hairlocks on her temples look like fishes floating [in the air]. Some hair hanging loose sveetly are like the tendrils of the asoka creeping down and sticking to her cheeks like thin clouds covering [the moon]. The campaka that blooms in the knot of her hair is like nesting nicely into it.
"Let me tell you, myy lord. If she is in the mood of love, she looks so sweet as if it is clear nectar of the sugar-palm. It is as if her words issue syrrups which spray the hearts [of those addressed]. Her lips split open, exposing her teeth, are like a broken up manggosteen fruit, and her cheeks withholding a smile can be likened to someone rinsing her mouth with honey.
"Where is the lady who can match the princess in beauty, who is sweet to be kept in the mind [and awfully exquisite] to be described. It is as if she can disappear in the simmering air when looked upon at the time her hair is loose, and re-appears on an island full of pandanus flowers, in trance enjoying the sceneries, or sittiṅ on a rock looking at her reflection in the water below.
"In the evening after make up, her beauty arouses passion (rajas) to torture [anyone] mercilessly. A book is never far from her, as she always reads a lot. She is never satiated with [the contents of] the books, which is undoubtedly a sign of wisdom. However she only studies the poems till finished and able to recite quotations from it.
"These may suffice. Let us talk about the people who serve her in the palace. Wives of highranking officials and maidservants alike are all devoted to the princess. Female servants, priestess’ and widows [of the nobility] regard the princess as their goddess. Female hunchbacks like in stories, albinoes and dwarves newly obtained as booty are also there.
"There is one favorite of her, a beautiful widow of noble origin who has just made a vow [to stay unmarried]. She was once taken [as wife] by a prince of the dynasty of the kings of Wallabha, who was like a father to her, promising to give her beautiful clothes and a crown. She gave her approval [to marry], because she wanted name and fame and because of the persuasion of the one she regarded as teacher.
"Also there is a beautiful lady in waiting, traces of her sweetness are still there, which do not disappear. Her breasts are still like yellow ivory coconuts though not producing milk anymore and hanging a little. Her hair has already silver threads. Her body is like an old ketapang-leaf, still able to charm those who see. The hearts of those seeing her are held captive by her sweet looks which are like that of the waning moon.
"If you talk about beautiful women of the capital city of Kuṇḍina‚ it makes you really raise your eyebrows. They follow the fashion in vogue in Dwārawatī, in mind and actions, to arouse passion. Not only the beautiful things are there, even the way of laughing and talking are taken over. They are competing to become number one and many are afraid to be second best.
"The ladies in the city of Kuṇḍina do talk of nothing else than the capital city of Dwārawatī and the beautiful sceneries of the holiday resort at the great mountain of Rewata. Also about the pre-eminent kiṅ who excels himself in poetry, gallantry and highly esteemed by his people. Thus the praise of Your Majesty. Next they talk about the charming looks of the princess Rukmiṇī.
"Because there is indeed nothing else to talk about but the praise of my lord's gallantry. You are held in high regard by all the people everywhere as a young king, courageous and powerful. That is the reason that the heart of Princess Rukmiṇī is ensnared by pangs of love towards Your Majesty. Her body is left in pain, struck by love and passion led only by the desire in her heart.
"Then there is a lady in waiting who is regarded as the leader in the harem. She always gives her instruction in singing, language and Sanskrit literature. All the people in the city know who is yearned for by the princess. They know where the heart of her mistress goes, and agree that it will be fitting that the marriage [of the princess with mylord] be performed as soon as possible.
"Thus are the secret feelings kept in her heart, and the vow to stay faithful is believed to be established firmly in her mind. She is indeed very much in love with mylord, no other man is considered by her. She spends her time composing lyrics of love and writing them down whilst chewing betel.
"Now I will tell my lord about her love to you. Day and night she is moaning and whimpering. In bed, complete with mattress and all, she feels like lying on a mat of pandanus flowers. She is angry when her cloth has to be taken off, because there are stains on the back of it. She is bewildered and tired of restraining her emotions, and looks like a flower charmed by a bumblebee.
"That is the reason I come to mylord, because your little sister is suffering, excruciated by loṅiṅ. All kinds of flowers in the garden are gathered and presented to her, hut none is accepted. When she is presented with a bunch of gaḍuṅ-flowers, she turns her face away and when she smells the fragrance of the asana, her heart seems to fall into ardour. Only the tañjuṅ-flower gets her favour, she makes garlands from it and uses it to decorate her ears.
"The more intense her feelings become, the crazier she behaves, and she is unable to control her tears to flow freely. She is out of her mind, she cries and a moment later she laughs, then she sings songs and lyrics from a kakavin. She carries a pandanus flowerbud with her everywhere, she talks to it and urges it to response. She beckons a bee passing by, begging her to stay, but why on earth should the bee be aware of her and delay [her passage]?.
"She stops beautifying her face and leaves the pimples on her face untreated, so that she looks like an unswept street. The charm of her lips has almost gone, and sorrow lingers on, because she does not chew betel anymore. Facepowder and cosmetics lie untouched and spill over the floor, because she throws [the powder pot over], and nobody cares to clear it. Her face is not washed, so pale like the moon on the second day. Only dreariness and loneliness stay on her lips.
"In brief, mylord should see her in the grip of passion, and extend mercy forever. Also you, mylord, should pay attention to the invitation of your aunt.
"Mylord should not think, that I rush you into action. [It is only] that Queen Pr̥thukīrtti said with emphasis that she wants Your Majesty to come very much, as soon as possible and without delay.
"Time is short, do not delay, mylord. In the story of Danārjjana, the expression reads: 'Attainment of an object should be act upon as quick as possible, [especially] in cases of transactions of girls, there should be no delay [at all].’
"When [mylord] arrives in the city of Kuṇḍina, you should right away ask for the hand of the princess. There will be no objections from Queen Sukharā (Pr̥thukīrtti). Then do not wait to carry away the honey.
"Also concerning the way of proposal. Do not take notice of religious regulations or auspicious time. You should take the advantage of the love of both parties, which is called 'the marriage of gandharvas’.’’
Thus were the words of the messenger, pronounced with skill and full of sweetness. In words and deeds she did not exaggerate, her expression and gestures made an excellent impression.
King Krəṣṇa was delighted to listen to her. He was very much impressed and could not answer quickly. His heart seemed to refuse to beat, and he almost did wrong things due to the influence [of her speech].
So before he spoke in a friendly manner, he wiped off his lips, folded his hands in front of his chest and his words seemed to shower diamonds:
"Forgive me mylady. Do not think that I ignore you. Too much nectar has been wasted; what matters nov is to attain triumph.
"You speak as if I am not aware of what the whole population of Jambudvīpa has talked about. How on earth should I not desire the beautiful princess. Certainly a lower loves his beloved.
"Now your visit here is like torrential rain falling upon a withering tree. My love [for the princess] shoots up and thrives, bearing leaves of passion and flowers of yearning.
"The night-lotus yearns for the moon, surely the day-lotus will long for the morning-sun. The asana seems to be unaware of everything, but it will spring up and flourish at the rumbling of thunder.
"Also the honey-bee will be always yearning for the flower, the white heron will always fly towards the water. The wandering peacock will always prick up its ears on hearing the thunder, and the eagle will always fly around to reach the firmament.
"Likewise I will be wandering around in the pursuit of love. At present the fire of love will drive me away. Uncontrolled passion will fly and disappear in Kundina without being noticed.
"Queen Prethukirtti is genuine in this case, exactly like the rays of the moon which are very distinct in the dark. The rays of the sun will come soon. I am truly sensational to accept and receive her gift.
"The love and attachment of Rukmiṇī towards me is like gold kept and cherished in [my] heart. It is like the essence of her sweet words and the sympathy of Queen Pr̥thukīrtti is like the brilliant shine."
Thus he said. King Krəṣṇa had spoken (his words), then he turned gloomy, overwhelmed by tender feelings and struck by ave by the thunder of affliction; thrilled by overflowing passion and swept by a flood of sex-lust, [caused by] endless rain of pangs of love, he wanted to take refuge in the warmth of the bossom [of the princess].
He had expressed his hope to marry the princess and live in love forever. Passion and desire to caress the waist of the princess in coition with offerings of blood stained on the fragrant smelling cloth, together with a shower of face-powder and the hairknot that came loose like a 'kupat luar’, disturbed the king.
Thus he pondered upon the way to come to Kuṇḍina. He wanted to come quietly and slip into the city furtively, pretending to make a pilgrimage with only two, three or four attendants who carried the betel-box and writing utensils; and live from earnings from [selling] garlands and singing performances.
Not much attention would be aroused by a wandering minstrel, who had interest only in the beautiful spots [of the country], find work at parties and shelter at quiet buildings. The interesting part would be, when he be approached by brokers [of parties] and yet could get away again and again, and [be able] to send collyrium, cosmetics and teeth-blacking sets together with betel [to the princess].
Further to receive in return young leaves of the aśoka with writings and signature attached together with waistband and red loincloth, nicely and tightly wrapped. The letter should be bidden very well, because it contains the proceedings of the escape agreed upon. It should be smuggled out, concealed in the folds of the kain of the messenger.
Because the situation of Princess Rukmiṇī was incredibly precarious. She was in the palace, exceedingly well-guarded as if it were a lion's den. Further her brother added more guards to that of King Bhiṣmaka, He [King Krəṣṇa] would be burnt to death like Smara (the god of love) if he Came like that. Why should he do that?
Certainly the kings of Cedi and Magadha would be the greatest obstacles, because the sons of Wrəhadrətha were his enemies from olden times. That was why he decided to go with guards and armed forces. According to the teachings of religion, there was nothing wrong [for him] to bring presents [for the bride].
Thus were his considerations. (It was related that) the sun had set, the weather became cooler. Then the ḍaḍali-birds appeared, flying around in the sky. The clouds were the forerunners of the twilight. Its colour was yellowish red hovering thickly above the city-gates. There on top of it, the sun was shining, not so brilliant anymore, just like the flicker of an oil-lamp.
In the city the evening air vibrated with the noise and tumult of the people. Those who would go along with the king in the morning had been decided. That was the reason that armoury, weapons of all kinds and vehicles were prepared in a hurry. All the people of Dwārawatī received their orders, to be carried out without deliberations.
Likewise the Yadus and Wrəṣṇis who made their audience [to be briefed] were given their instructions. Also King Baladeva, most important amongst the king's allies, was already informed. Two things should be considered. One should not have fortifications constructed only from pleated palm-leaves, and [the second is] one should consider carefully the predicaments. As long as one had taken account of everything carefully, he would not be overcome by his enemies and be left without friends.
Soon the night came. The sun had set entirely and the moon came up shining brilliantly. The cemented walls looked brighter and whiter, imparting gloss around. The shadows of the camara-trees, distinctly cast upon it, sprawled over and covered the city-gates. The fire-flies swarmed up marvellously as if they were the sparks of the rays of the moon.
When the air turned cold, [at that time] the king was in the grip of longing in a pavillion where he used to entertain himself, part of which was built like a bridal-suit, linked to the bigger main building. Next to it, a pond was built, beautifully dyked with a wall of white crystal stones all around. Fishes of all kinds, sprinkled by water from a waterspout, moved around chasing one another. They shone and glittered reflecting back the lustre of the moon-stones.
At the side [of the pond] the walls of the golden pavillion gleamed brightly affected by the flame of the lamp. There was a fragrant smell coming from the gaduṅ-flowers, climbing and creeping along the eaves. There the king directed his steps, his heart stirred by hope and anxiety, as if he would meet the object of his yearning, lying there is agony discarding her clothes.
The yearning of the king was unfulfilled, arousing grief in his heart. The movements of young leaves touched his heart like the beckoning [of the beloved] ‚ urging to come near. The sound of the house-lizard aroused pangs of love, inciting him to jump onto the nuptial bed. The cries of the bats and the sound of their wiṅs reminded him of the rustling sound of the kain. It kept him awake.
The glittering of the lotus moved by the wind, awakened in him the fire of lust. The sound of gold ground to dust to make cream to keep the body warm was the rattling of cloth caressing the body [of the princess while walking]. The drops of dew at the verge of falling down looked like the jewels at the edges of the sash [of the princess] . The fruit of the asoka, sandwiched nicely between the flowers looked like trembling of fear.
Also in the month of Kārttika, a bit of drizzle came. The buds of the vuṅu-flowers did not bloom yet, though they were almost open, as if only waiting affectionately for the thunder. [However] the buds of the asana-flowers seemed to feel cold and got goose-flesh, issuing young leaves shivering in the wind. [On the other hand] the jamines gave rise to delight as they enjoyed themselves in the cold rays of the moon.
The night passed. The fog that cowered the trees of the forest thickly was entirely lifted. The blue lotuses which were soundly asleep, began to move with the disappearance of the fog, only the lotuses were moving to and fro, as the bees were crowding on them, imitating the slow movements of girls sleeping together with their lovers.
When a bright day arrived [at the folloving morning]. King Krəṣṇa had already washed himself there in the pond. Facing eastward (the direction of the sun) he engaged himself in prayers in the remembrance of God Śiwa. From gloom he was brightened by the rays of the morning sun, like the day-lotus opening up in the morning. He enshrined the sound of the syllable Om which rang like the buzzing of the bee, in his heart.
Teng. The bell of the hour rang. At once the banner was raised [as a sign] of departure. The sound of the drums was booming, and that of the various trumpets was roaring. The horsemen were ordered to move first, quick but orderly. The pages were sweetly calling each other, which culminated into a roaring cheer.
When the armed forces were on the road, they had to stop, because [the road was] too crowded. They had moved at the same time and were competing with each other to reach the city-gates. They shouted at each other, and were very agitated, because they wanted to arrive in Kuṇḍina as soon as possible. Those in front shouted a warning: 'Be careful with your lances and make room’.
Soon the Yadus were far away from the city, which was quietly left behind. Only the people playing on the portable gamelan to accompany the king were still waiting, producing sweet tunes. So after all the preparations were made, the king, already in his journey attire, was ready to leave. He [only] waited for the exact time for an auspicious departure, which was decided upon by the priests.
The royal vagon was harnessed with two rows of horses, because it was drawn by four horses. So it was said, that they were very strong and were called Sonya, Sugrīwa [which were close] to the wagon. Then Walāha was not inferior to them as a horse. Furthermore Meghapuṣpa was praise-worthy. People said that they were able to pass through dangerous mountains and water, not to mention [fighting] in the battlefield.
And the powerful charioteer of King Krəṣṇa was called Dāruki, famous in the world in being very skilful in managing large wagons, adept in the knowledge of taming horses and his speciality was the ease with which he performed everything. If the road was dangerous, then he turned around towards the sea.
So, first he loaded the wagon with all kinds of weapons, e.i. bows, all kinds of arrows, creeses, swords, disc and shining lances. The disc Sudarśana, which was so sharp and shone so brightly like the moon, and the unequalled Pāñcajanya were already in position. All armaments were complete.
The king mounted in the wagon with an attendant carrying the fruit-bowl. Also there was a young priest called Megbadhvaja, who was ordered to come along. He was the highest in rank adviser to the state and proved to be successful in giving advice [to the king], because he was an adept in knowledge, highly qualified and well-liked by the people. Furthermore he was courageous and never negligent.
With the pretence of evading dangerous omens and procuring praise, he briefly designed the stratagem of the porcupine, namely though the mind was troubled by turmoil and inimicality, outwardly nothing could be noticed. The mind [should always] be prepared to face difficulties in attaining success with the support of knowledge, religion and literature.
.......... The quarrel between the soldiers on wagons, other than those crazy of fighting and the umbrella-carriers were not taken into account [by the king], because the horses were eager and wanted to move speedily, as they were too long out of action. Their neighing was countered by others as if they were indignant and seemed to incite [everyone] to depart.
So the king in his wagon bedecked with jewels and precious stones, set out with a nice and pleasant pace, bearing in mind that there were attendants who came along more than once. Some had to return as quick as possible, and they could not defy [the order], because when they left hurriedly, they left their weapons at home. Why should they not return home?
Swiftly the wagon ran through forests and planes along the coast, also through the northern slopes of mountain Rewata [aloṅ roads] looking down the planes at the foot of the mountain. The king turned back his head again and again to see the beauty of the capital city which the further he went, the more indistinct it became. The trees seemed to glitter [in the sun], so that be had to put his hands above his eyes.
Wherever he went through, thc sceneries were picturesque, the crop was just brought in and the straw was still left on the field. The dykes were broken at several places, like the line of the eyebrows dotted by power. Thc tall grass in the valleys, blown by the wind, was like loose hair just tussled [by tbe hand]. A thin cloud cowered the hill-side like body-cream spread over the breasts.
He went through a village of exceeding beauty with a large population and nearby market. At the south there was a hermitage, just over the ravine near a vaterfall. The tree [closeby] was a banyan-tree, which was always a landmark [for the hermitage] from far away, and the bamboo-groves [were an indicator] from near.
There was a man at the 'bhaganjing’ (hermitage) who could read or recite poems aloud, but also always active in writing [poems(?)]. He chose the sharpest writing-knife he could get, still wet from being sharpened. His biceps were all muscles and when he sat in thought, desires [of worldly things] crept in his mind by lack of control of the senses. Indeed he had chosen the wrong occupation, he should play the flute or sing as a professional, because he was not established yet [in renunciation].
There was a valley of the mountain with a lake, its water tossing and waving. It was greatly scenic and a resort for those who came to bathe while indulging in romantic adventure, enjoying the sceneries from the rocks and the view of the lovely lotuses, or went to the holiday resort island. With delight they could roam around on foot or float on the water or swim.
The far end of the hermitage was floored with sand brought there by the breakers, its strand was as if dyked around in rows. At the sides the swans were lying low as if asleep. They laid eggs on the lake-island or hid them in the crevices of rocks. Not to mention the chicks which were floating on the water like kələpu-flowers.
.......... However only roses were found there, rubbing against the wuṅu-tree. There was a stream flowing strongly, emerging from a cave in the holes of the ravine [near] the hermitage. A boulder, partially portrudiṅ [from the cave] looked formidable like an elephant with a root of a tree as trunk.
Its water was clear, falling from above, but reddish yellow of colour. The sand was clean, red-colored like wax, and a pair of doves were picking something on it. It was a pretty picture, enjoyable for those coming for a pleasure-trip whilst looking for delights, wearing ferns as ear-ornaments and then hunting for birds' nests, followed by wandering in the bushes of the kajar-plants.
Leaving behind [the people looking for delights], let us look back at the boulder sheltering [the stream] found before near the hermitage. The water of the stream showered down, looking like water falling from the edge of the roof. In a crevix of the paras-wall a sənə̄-tree was growing vigorously as if being sprinkled. A ḍaḍali-bird flapped its wings and flew accidentally into the shower of water and had to shake [its body] to dry.
There was a snake hiding in a pile of slates from fear of being seen. The waterfall spread around rays of vapour, as if the snake spitted out precious diamonds. The rays of vapour descended like smoke on the young leaves of the aśoka which quivered like being sprinkled. A cataka bird flying high up [in the sky] seemed to persuade the drizzle to evaporate to join the rainbow.
So King Basudevaputra (Krəṣṇa) got carried away by the enchanting scenes of the sea. The journey became a pleasure-trip to entertain himself, and he forgot entirely about the original purpose. However the priest Meghadhvaja was not negligent; respectfully and calmly he asked permission to give counsel: "It is indeed the truth, that the purpose of being in the service of the king is to be constantly aware of the wellbeing of his master.
"Listen to my words, oh mylord. This is not the time, that mylord be carried away by the beauty of nature and forget an extremely important matter. Mylord, please remember your business, do not be negligent. Do not indulge yourself in pleasure-trips, there are too many negative points to it.
"Proceed with what you have first in mind, do not delay it. There are a lot of things that can bring a person to regret, if he is not resolute. However if he is persistent, for sure everything will be successful. There is nothing that gives trouble to a man with an iron will.
"Furthermore, the country we are heading for is [still] far away. The king of Cedi might already be there, the day of the royal function is approaching quickly. If I [were you I] will be very shameful and unhappy if I came too late.
"The best thing that you, mylord, has to bear in mind is, that your visit to the king of Kuṇḍina is full of peril. Mylord has to take care of the concern of the queen of King Bhīṣmaka, who has been in fear, and very much hoping for assistance.
"The problem of discussing stratagem is because there is no subtle way at all. That is vhy I appeal to you, mylord, to be careful. Consider deeply what you will say. Who knows that the secret will burst into common knowledge. Your true intention should be hidden in all your conduct.
"A man who is thinking of hiding gold, gives the appearance of being a poor man. Then how can he be known that he is a rich man? He talks a lot to hide his intentions, which is comparable with diving in clear water. Why should be not be detected?
"Mylord takes the opportunity to visit relatives, because of affection and feelings of fraternity in times of adverse circumstances, such as that might come up in royal functions. It is appropriate or better still that you bring a gift for the bride, because it looks incongruous to come without being invited.
"Well, mylord comes here without the invitation of King Bhīṣmaka. Mylord comes just like a commoner comes to another one. Pretend to be ignorant [of what is happening] whether they are friendly or not. Just play the fool, like Garuḍa disguising himself as a sage, striving to achieve his goal.
"Prince Rukma is known to be very clever. For sure he will not be pleased and will do everything [possible] to be obstructive. The more so when he sees the great number of Wrəṣṇi host with elephants, vagons, horses like a task-force unit [ready for invasion].
"In brief I would advise mylord not to be without care, not to delay further the journey and do attempt to arrive [in Kuṇḍina] before the king of Cedi. Come in time, before the function is over.
"Also mylord has to consider the princess, who has been too long waiting for the response from mylord towards her feelings. Mylord can imagine, because she has been suffering for so long from being faithful to love. She is restless like waiting for the groom to take her in his arms.
"That feelings of love have grown, because she is truly a princess and a virgin. Sorrow is not good for her, like a poem for a child. She has no experience of love, union and loveplay. If she wants it and it happens to be available, why should it be wrong that she takes it?
"Because if you consider the agony of one in love, there are many, e.g. the art of taking a wife by oral persuasion or by force; to have the heart to see the beloved in agony of being deflowered, turning her face away angrily and does not reply [when addressed]; to hear the heartbeat of the girl who is on the verge of loosing her well-guarded kain.
"For a change when you prepare for sexual intercourse [with a virgin], it is much better to be without light. Embracing, moulding and pinching the hard bosom makes the girl have gooseflesh. She will writhe and wriggle, she will agree to sit on the lap, but keep you at armslength, with no concern at all that [by her struggle] her kain is pulled away and eventually thrown away.
"however [if the girl] has overcome her prudency, and does not mind to make love, the embrace of a couple in love is like the petals of a pandanus-flower. It is as if the campaka flower squeezed between the breasts is grounded to dust. The union is close and tight, the heart-beat of both [lovers] in harmony".
Thus were the words of Priest Meghadhvaja to the king, who seemed to smile, because he [perfectly] understood the hint to go to Kuṇḍina more speedily. It seemed that his heart was also burdened with longing. Signs of passion were visible, he looked like burning coal consuming hay.
The king left the mountainous forests, heading for lower grounds in his wagon speedily. He ran along the coast-line and these regions too were already passed. He did not cross over the mountains again, but took the route through the planes, because his heart was filled with love-sickness. There was nothing that hampered his vay, he wanted only to arrive [in Kuṇḍina] as soon as possible, because of the pain in his heart.
The road along the coast was deserted, its sceneries were awe-inspiring. A big river with turbulent water from the mountains rushed down onto a rock at the estuary and made a hole in it. Inside [the hole] the water sounded ṅek ṅok like the pining of geese taking turns regularly. The water waved and whirled around with astounding roarings, so that the mist turned and twisted along with it.
What kind of ivory coconut tree was it that grew all by itself on a rock? Its leaning trunk was covered by mist whilst its leaves were swishing, blown by the strong wind of the waves. Its roots were marvellous, looking like creepers, its fruit was ripe and there were plenty of flowers. A pair of vhite herons sat closely together perching on its petiole.
The peaks of rocks and mountains looked statuesque covered by a forest of pine trees. The water from the mountains rushed roaring down and pressed by the wind fell with a blow on the waves. The water-drops spraying upwards formed a drizzle, gray-colored, [but] turned into the colours of the rainbow when the sun-rays fell upon it. The kat-kat came and went, but because of the strong-blowing wind, they had difficulty to find their way.
A nice-looking building with a roof in tiers was in ruin. What did it look like formerly [nobody knew]. The gates were almost collapsed, overgrown by handul-creepers which were blooming furiously. The walls also collapsed, falling into pieces, because repeatedly the breakers sent showers of sea-water unto them. The images of the deities were broken, because they were covered, penetrated and crushed by roots [of trees].
There was an island, clearly seen, because of a hill topped by trees and vegetation. The sound of peacocks and nightiṅales was audible from the coast. There on the peak stood a rest-house, so picturesque [partly] hidden. The roof, blanketed by white clouds looked so pure, like the buds of mushrooms just opening.
The sides of the rock [walls] looked fabulous when the water-line retreated back further. The rocks looked so nice as if intentionally carved in the form of a drummer and another one that of a puppetteer. There below, on the water, kalaka and səkartaji flowers were floating together with a handle of an old umbrella. Withering and dry lotuses were mixed up with aśoka-flowers, whilst kapipir-flowers blended [nicely] with betel-leaves.
On the banks of the sea, at the [end] of a road up the hill, there was a hermitage, old, lonely and neglected. The roof was totally destroyed by [rain]-water and smashed into five parts by storms. The hearts of those to see the ruins of the building would be emotionally affected, because it was leaning to one side and almost overturned. Only roots that came down from a tree and wound themselves around the pillars kept it upright.
There was a rock which was so pleasing to the eyes. It was as if [someone] bad swept it tidily and the sand was so smooth. The pandanus' were creeping along everywhere, sprayed and soaked by the water up to their branches, moving slowly up and sideways shaken by the waves. Their flowers were destroyed and thrown into the water, their pollen fell showering around as if being shaken.
The sea with its fragrant smelling sandalwood-tree was like a pundit with a clear and spotless [mind]. Shells and tripod stands were there everywhere and the kijings served as the books. After bathing the reverend guru [would] calmly go to the rock to pray to the Sun-god. The snails washed themselves while taking the water by handfulls, pronounced their prayers solemnly.
The white heron was like being burdened with sins, flying around the rock, looking for the hermit [to deliver him]. The roots of the trees were winding on each other and the little nests of the birds were intricately stuffed in between. A pack of maniṅ-tiṅ-birds was fighting fiercely for a prawn against the tilil-birds. The buntək-bird was confounded, because of his round belly he could not find a way to part thc quarelling parties.
For a while the king slowed down the speed of the wagon a little to look at the amusing scene, but the glittering ripples, rushing after a lotus reminded him of the flying kain of the beloved, running and begging to go along with him, [The kain seemed] to go in flame flickering like lightning resembling a red cloth signalling him to stop. The sails [of proas] came and went by like a lethargic person wrapping himself [in a sarong].
Suddenly the one enjoying himself in the beauteous sceneries of the beach (Krəṣṇa) remembered the princess. The flying white herons reminded him of a row of girls standing closely together with open shoulders. The pandanus lying upon the elephant rocks reminded him of fragrant smelling kains. Two blooming pandanus-flowers made him so lovelorn, because they reminded him of the two legs of a girl riding on horseback.
After the journey along the coast, he followed a road leading to a dam. Without difficulty the wagon rolled along, kept in control by way of holding the harness of the horses [firmly]. Well, the speed of the wagon, the day turning cold and the sun setting were not related. The flowers of the varu-tree fell in heaps everywhere along the road.
From a village at the top of a hill came the lovely sound of people pounding rice. However only a vaduri (expert) would know from what wood the rice mortar was made, whether it was vaṅvan or iñculuk-wood. Leisurely a water-buffalo with a boy on its back was walking in the valley, which was an interesting sight to see. Thc contrast of the sceneries [of the hill and the valley] came to rest there in the depth of the ravine.
There was a brave man who [still worked] in the middle of a dry rice-field feared by the villagers. [He just] started to burn the hay and the smoke was only very little at first. Slowly it spread around. The wooden kulkul (signalblock) in the watch-tower rang rather soft, announcing the hour. [On hearing this] the cattle returned to their stables from the paddocks one after the other.
His journey went further and further, pleasantly and without being aware that the region of Dvāravatī was left behind and he arrived in the land of Kuṇḍina. He came to a beautiful village with many great mansions of the ruling elite. It was known by the name of Dharmmasabhā, extremely famous of its set-up, because there were so many great buildings.
Directly north of the groups [of these mansions] was the market, very close to a great river. There the king stopped to stay overnight and all the army etc took their stay in big tents. The quarters of the king was distinguished by ropes all around. There the attendants came to make audience, when the king was sitting, fascinated by a picture.
It was really an enthralling picture of a girl overwhelmed by pangs of love. The king was afflicted by grief, as if his heart were in pain. The picture was so lifelike, so that the king seemed to be spell-bound. He looked like being possessed, just by looking at it, perplexed and dazzled.
When dark was near, dinner was served on golden dining tables. All kinds of food, carefully selected were dished out in perfect order before the king. Then food for the religious teacher was brought in, in the form of an offering. Clearly the kind of food for a priest was known to the attendants, and in fact borne in mind all the time.
All the Yadu-soldiers were facing their own tables, arranged in rows. There the left-overs from the king's table came and served them. The men were eating greedily without talking, only their lips were smacking in rapid tempo. Some had the hiccup and were beckoning the waiters asking for water.
There were two officials who were given seats wroṅly (not in accordance with their rank), namely below their ranks without prior notice. This made them angry, they grumbled but the words were not clearly audible. They sat with their heads in their hands, sulking, turning their heads the other way and did not like to accept the drinks they were offered. A friend of the two, who was also seated below [his rank], spoke with a drunken voice:
"Do not be sad, do not be angry. Eat and drink! It is no use to be indignant. Whatever the place, if it is a jewel, it will be priceless, even if it falls into wine. Eventhough one is high up there in the sky, if he is not excellent, he is worthless. Behave like Garuḍa, says the wise man.
"And you better listen to what I hear from the pundits: 'The Brahmins are the old people established in all kinds of knowledges and religions. For the people of the kṣatriya-caste, power is most important. For the vaiśyas (merchants and farmers) it is wealth. However foremost amongst all of these is old age. For the sudras there is nothing (to be mentioned)'.
"In brief, if you [think you] are a kṣatriya, your virtue is your rank and your courage is your wealth. King Krəṣṇa is indeed vise, very appropriate to be taken as example by those to achieve happiness. In the battle-field you have to try very hard to sacrifice your life, if you are striving for happiness, because reward is only for those with virtues. It is useless for those without virtues".
There were others who were chattig under the fenced banyan-tree. Cheerfully they offered each other drinks and snacks, very amiably. Then one said to his friend while drinking with ease. Holding his cup and keeping himself in the shadows, he spoke:
"What do you have in mind concerning things to do for the preparation of moksa (liberation) in the framework of your devotion to His Majesty, who is an expert in the knowledge of heavenly Bliss. At the moment, you have to stop thinking about [any-body you] love; stop thinking about trade (business) as it will hamper you to remember [God]. Detach yourself from the desire for courage which leads you to power or position.
"Just remember how long your life-span would be. Silver, gold and jewels are fleeting things (perishable things). Establish your knowledge on 'the Truth’. Control tamah (sensuality), do service [to God and others] while you are alive.
"Because even when you are still young, you have already to start performing dharmma (religious observance). Afterwards artha, that is gathering wealth has to be carried out. After you are wealthy, then you can marry (saṅgama or kāma) [establishing a household]. When you reach old age, you have to strive for heavenly Bliss (mokṣa).
"Thus it is very good, if you start early to prepare for the end [of life]. Talk to your Self, be detached from name and fame. Even towards your child or wife, do not be too attached. Although your wife is always ready to serve you, do not indulge in sex-lust.
Let us leave the lively conversation of the soldiers. There were [others] who talked about fightings, dramatising them fiercely, giving demonstrations of how to parry swords or lances. His drinking companions were amazed and absorbed. Repeatedly they stood up, but never come to leave.
After finishing his drink, the king went to bed. Those in the camp looked also for a place to sleep in a fuss. Those who did not want to sleep yet, looked for shelter under the trees and shaded areas. [Public] buildings and guest-bouses were full of people talking boisterously, confused and drunk.
Time passed. After a while the loudmouths even stopped [blubbering]. Everybody was asleep soundly. For sure at 4 o'clock a.m., the world was quiet as if spellbound. It was as if the spell of 'silence’ took effect, the people asleep were so quiet like dead.
Then it turned colder and nothing seemed to stir. Only the kapok-tree was shriekiṅ and screaming, giving rise to fear, as it was blown by the wind. The branches, rubbing against each other shrilled and screeched. The gecko, hiding (there) at the gate, squealed in certain numbers.
Wind carrying dew.......................................... The bees eager to acquire honey were buzzing busily, proceeding from one flower to the other.
The moon, growing pale, was like a person who has lost a high position, and looked pitiful. Its lustre disappeared totally. The bard sang ................................................................
It was day. The bard did not sing anymore. The darkness caused by the trees disappeared as if cut away. It was all fine and bright. The morning rays shone red and the host of army prepared themselves [to leave] ........................................
The mind of the head-men in the neighbouring regions were .......................................................... Also King Krəṣṇa went on with his journey firstly in the morning, because he wanted to see so eagerly the well-built dam.
.............................................................................................................at the religious domains. The helpsters of the female hermits were charmed by all the nice things they saw, and all of them were overwhelmed at the sight of the king. They talked sweetly discussing the king invested with superhuman powers.
..................................................................................................................................flowers which looked like betel-[flowers] smelled fragrantly and the sundarī screamed so loudly. The wells were shady and cool with only a few thorny plants. The weather was still cool, yet the katimaṅ-trees were [already] aggressive and destroyed everything that stood in their vay.
.......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................................Suddenly her husband came, without looking right nor left walked quickly by. It seemed that they both had sold their merchandise and now were looking for other things to do.
........................................................................................................................................An offering-place was found there, lonely, covered by heaps of ashes. There were a lot of flowers [used as offerings]‚ spread throughout the yard and a dead tortoise was hung on a tree.
........................................................................................................................................................at the graveyard. A kapok-tree which just had grown sprouts and leaves was surrounded by suraga-plants and had an offering-pad on which a betel-box was found. On the crossroad betel for offerings was laid on a stone.
[The place] was quiet and forgotten. There was not a single person in the yard. Even more it was hot. The paṅgaṅ and kasine trees had [their branches] felled and stood there bare. A stretcher was green with moss and another was rotting. Gak-gok-gak were the cries of the vultures in the bamboo-groves, resounding so sweetly. The boughs of the kəpuh tree inspired fear, as blown by the wind, they seemed to threaten [anyone coming] by roaring furiously.
This was the description of the old road, full of grass, and the lamura grass grew thick and hairy. The pandakakis were everywhere, the fruits of the jaha were in plenty and were collected in baskets by wrinkled elderly people. The branches of the turi-trees grew twigs and sprigs, withered like thorns, the galigas trees were almost cut off. An old broom was leaning on a kəmuniṅ tree in front of a small temple.
The king almost reached his destination, only a small distance had to be passed. The sound of the drums in the city could be heard vaguely, arousing pangs of love in the hearts of those hearing it. The roads were full of people in groups. When they were asked, what they coming for from so far, they answered, that they wanted to see the wedding of Princess Rukmiṇī with the king of Cedi.
When King Krəṣṇa arrived at the capital city of Kuṇḍina with his host, vehicles etc, the main road became more and more crowded with those coming along. The line was endless, and its sound was like that of a waterfall in the ravines, booming and roaring like thunder. The ornaments of the wagons were like asana flowers, arranged and composed in gold.
It was indeed great to see how they marched along the roads in units, one after the other. The men on parade were filling and even spilling over the roads, moving in long columns with great decorations of gold. The sounds of the gaməlan instruments were disturbed by the resounding bells of the elephants which were heavier than usual, confused and mixed with the neighing of horses.
The drums and trumpets carried by soldiers as vaṅuard of the king were marvellous. The whole population of the palace compound was in turmoil at the news of the arrival of King Krəṣṇa. The people were running and racing each other, while shouting that they wanted to see [the king]. The thieves were also running when they saw people running, but they ran away with the property of someone else.
The women-folk of the capital city were racing each other from fear of being too late to see [King Krəṣṇa]. Those busy with their makeup, put wroṅ things on their faces, those reddening their lips suddenly stopped doing so. Likewise those busy to knot the hair, before they were ready, they were already gone. And the funniest part of it was, that the hairknot got loose, and yet while running, they were trying to pleat their kains.
There was a beautiful young girl, still groving up, and too young to have sexual intercourse. Then she was attracted by the news [of the arrival] of the king, so she wanted to see [him] . Before her mind was not touched by love and though very much instructions were given, she was beyond persuasion. However the minute she came home from seeing King Krəṣṇa, she called out and asked her husband to make love to her.
There were others who became confused and all of a sudden fell heels over ears in love. She left without waiting for her maid to accompany her, who ran after her. Still she did not stop. Her fragrant smelling kain flew in the wind, exposing the calf of her legs which resembled pandanus flowers. Her pretty shawl was like a book [of lontar leaves] held under the arm touching her breasts.
Then when she already arrived at the look-out to wait for [the guest] just coming, her behaviour and mind were very proper. She sat with her arms straight down to her thighs. Moaning she struck on her head with her elbows, taking care of not smashing her eyebrovs. Because of her affliction she took so much care of her eyelashes to be in line with [the curves of her] eyebrows.
Another lady looked also great, in beauty her equal was nothing less than a lake full of lotuses. When she threw a glance, the smile seemed to go with it, imitating the pollen of the day-lotus. The leaves of the blue lotus were like her kain blowing in the wind. She acted so sweet, swayiṅ while complaining of weariness, like a swan riding on the ripples of water.
When he passed by, the one looking like the moon was shining brightly. The ladies in the look-out were all enthralled at the sight of the king. Others were not aware that their cloth got loose or their kain was in disorder, because their minds were so fascinated when standing in the front row watching [the king come by] so clearly.
There was a lady who heard about the fame of King Krəṣṇa throughout the world. Now she could see him in person, exactly like the manifestation of Kāma (the god of love) on earth. That was the reason that she remained quietly in thoughts, whilst her eyes followed him all the way. "Ah‚" she said. She bowed her head in amazement, uttering the syllable "uh-uh” to express her admiration.
More womenfolk of the capital city of Kuṇḍina came like an avalanche of mountains. They seemed to fight against the Yadus, parrying each other with the sharpness of their eyes. They stood upright with the calf of legs straight like the bow of God Smara. Their curving eyebrows were exactly like arrows drawn to destroy love-sickness.
There on the walls, which were like hollow rocks, there were numerous onlookers resembling bees sucking honey from flowers and not being quite satisfied disappeared into them. Also the fragrant smell was so mystifying as if mixed with their drunkenness which showed up in the glitter of their eyes. The [infatuation of the] onlookers was capable of destroying its sweetness if there were attempts to hide [the drunkenness].
All of them were affected by love-sickness, not even one was not looking for fulfilment. The flame of desire was hidden in a friendly appearance, like the detachment of a sātvika (vise man). They pretended to be hermits, but they were caught [in the ajct] of throwing glances. Passion and desire were deeply buried in their hearts, but they escaped forcefully, reflected in the movements of their eyebrows.
A man ran to the stables to hide, because there was a woman stealthily waiting for him. They performed the 'act' of love under the cover of a heap of gadung leaves. Their passion was clearly seen in the expression on their faces which were so close together, kissing each other on the cheeks ornamented with fragrant jaṅga flowers.
Then there was a couple who purposely rubbing their bodies against each other in the look-out, harmoniously, savely and with great delight. Both were wearing red clothes and drawing them up to cover [the act]. They were enjoying betel, but [one of them] was wearing a rod of withering young coconut leaves. The woman bent her body forward slightly to remove the difficulty of penetration. When one looked at them, they pretended to be just standing together.
The king had gone by without paying attention to those people affected by physical affliction. He remained well-disposed like an asana flower in bloom well away from decay and putrefaction. Sweet like the moon on the fifth day [of the dark fortnight] he removed the darkness of the mind of the lovelorn. The sun set in gloom, because the king seemed not to pay heed to him at all.
He looked divine, that was why the people having seen him began to talk [about him]. In a short time his good looks were praised all over the city and reached the ears of the princess. From the first [time that she heard of him] she enshrined love for him and when he came, she welcomed him in her heart with desolation. She installed him in the bud of a pandanus flower and regarded him as a companion in delights.
[All the people in] the whole city seemed to agree whole-heartedly [in their praise] and adored [the king] passionately. The king was like the moon since he prepared the march [through the city] on arrival. Viewed from the palace he appeared amazingly handsome, leading the procession, resembling a lotus in the middle of a lake swarmed by [thousands of] bumblebees.
What should be the reason that he would give for his visit? Queen Prəthukīrti was his aunt, a younger sister of his father. In fact he was the first generation cousin of the princess [Rukmiṇī]. And that should be the reason that he came for the wedding, to convey his congratulations, because of family relationship.
As for the danger of his visit to express his congratulations should be realized. At the time that he entered the living quarters of the princess to pay his respect and be entertained by her, the beautiful one (Rukmiṇī) would be so close to the handsome one (Krəṣṇa), and that might inspire desire. One should be extremely alert, when black sugar-palm fiber was placed too near to fire. Why should there be no trouble?
Moreover, there was a vague rumour, that a certain lady had told in secret, namely that the queen had preferred King Krəṣṇa as son-in-law, no one else. Also that the princess’ love was nurtured and supported by her mother, with the result that the curcuma plant grew like the calyxes of a flower, starting to open at the rumbling of thunder.
Thus was the rumour. However King Bhīṣmaka was the father and should be respected. His decree was [that Princess Rukmiṇī] should marry the king of Cedi, a young monarch who was very appropriate [as husband]. [On the other hand] the passion of the son of Basudeva (Krəṣṇa) was as big as a mountain, how should be not be restless. It was like being on a journey without knowing the route, and did not know where to turn at the junction.
As for [the mind] of the King of Cedi. He was like a leafless tree waiting for the rain. How could a sprout of the jəriṅ plant escape from his hands, for sure he would be able to seize it. He always cherished the hope to meet the jewel of the palace [of Kuṇḍina] in marriage. His heart was full of expectations like Abhimanyu waiting for his sweetheart.
This was the talk of the people, sayiṅ that King Krəṣṇa had been driven into a corner. This entire host of Yadus and their powerful leader King Baladeva, were never separated from him. Soon he was allocated a place to camp outside the palace compound, because the royal square up to the audience hall had been totally occupied by the forces of the king of Cedi.
Night came. First the king of Cedi and King Jarāsandha who was never separated from him, were regaled in their quarters, because they were the guests of honour. Food and drinks and so on together with betel, clothes and cosmetics were brought in. The womenfolk of the palace also made their audience to pay attention to the groom to be.
Likewise King Krəṣṇa was presented with all kinds of services, but his position was that of a guest, and he was treated as such in food and drinks, fit for a king, fully and lacking nothing, down to the Vrəṣṇis and Yadus and the heroes from neighbouring countries. [In fact] King Bhīṣmaka was sincerely fond of the son of Devaki (Krəṣṇa).
Then King Krəṣṇa sent a mediatrix to enter the palace insidiously. [She was a] lady, skillful, mindful and extremely capable in concealing the mission. She went quickly, betraying no fear of death, because of her devotion [towards King Krəṣṇa]. Her journey passed smoothly without hindrances and soon came to fruition.
The reason was that Princess Rukmiṇī was all alone in the garden, entertaining herself; to while away the disturbances of her heart which for a moment made her lovelorn, [and in need] for solace. When it was almost twilight, the reddish colour of the young shoots became more apparent. The peacock cooed ... A couple, man and vife went home to pursue their love in bed.
The day-lotus which was in bloom a while ago in the middle of the pool closed its calyxes in disgust, trembling and shaking, because a bee was too ardent and intoxicated by its pollen. The light turned darker and darker, and the shadows covered more and more the young shoots of the aśoka plant which crept to every direction. The red lotuses were completely covered by the asana flowers resembling a golden image, colour fully decorated.
The tendrils of the jaṅga plants reached for a branch and wound themselves around and around leisurely like armlets. The flower of the pandanus was matching straight calf of legs just being washed. Its fragrant-smelling pollen, brightly coloured like burning ash, showered down like ash, giving joy to the kuraṇṭa flowers, because they prepared the pollen to become the face-powder of the jīva-jīva birds.
At the beginning the princess was sitting alone and in grief on the retaining wall around a nāgapuṣpa tree. Then the king of cedi [a messenger of King Krəṣṇa in disguise] came and made his (her) audience nicely, sitting beneath her and paid respects with folded hands. Quickly he (she) handed over a letter to her, while saying that he (she) was sent by King Krəṣṇa. Unlimited was the skill [of the letter] in conveying his sweet words, which were cut short by the lovelorn one.
(The heart of) Princess Rukmiṇī was exceedingly happy, her melancholy disappeared [entirely]. Full of delight she returned to her quarters, as if she was never in grief before. She looked more closely and lovingly at the beautiful letter and read it [again and again] to enshrine the contents firmly in her heart. It was as if her countenance was casting off jewels, as she bent over the lines of the epistle.
"If you were to incarnate into asana flowers and be composed into a beautiful [flower]-image, I will kiss you and regard you as a child [whilst I will be the] nurse entertaining you in the garden. And if the weather is overcast and thundery, certainly I will be annoyed [too]. Then I will not be separated from you, I will take you in my arms, lull you and nurse you.
"Mylady, look at me, weary of lovesickness, sleepiṅ together with a letter. I do not feel well, intentionally using the letter as pillow and covering myself with an eyecover. Sorrowful and sad, I sob myself to sleep. Please come quickly and bring [me] chewed up betel. [You] do not see [my] tears flowing down to [my] ears, until I drowse off to slumber.
"I know that you respect your father and mother. There is no way that you could disobey the king. Your friend [the king of Cedi] is accepted [by your father] to be your husband. It is unlikely that it will fail, it is like face-powder in the hand. Yet I wish that you might have a little bit of tender feelings towards me, because there are many people who leave the fragrant smelling gadung for the sake of harbouring the vuṅu [in their heart].
"It is a pity, my sweet, that you will be given away to someone else, notwithstanding my sincerest hope [to the contrary]. Formerly I brooded to see the beauty of your bosom and caressing them slowly in the form of the ivory-coconut. [I get the vision of you as] a sweet-smelling campaka, my love, being unrufflled by the wings of the honeybee. Then it changes form, I see you secretly leave to join me.
"My little sister, my love, who is like the mistress of the asana flower, waiting at a dangerous and inaccesible island so far away. Ah, it is useless for me to have the desire to touch you and to ravish your beauty. It is my mind which is the handicap; it seems to be without strength and imbued with weakness”
Thus were the words of the king, expressiṅ his pangs of love eloquently, giving rise to sorrow ih the heart of the princess, increasing her yearning. The flame of desire became apparent as if her heart was quivering. It is nice [at first], but as the desire grows, the heat (fire) will consume the lungs.
Sorrow makes a girl more lovely, anxiety more attractive. Tears of yearning and passion give more artistry to the hair sticking on the cheeks. The languor of the eyes gives more colour to the tears that feel hot in the hand (wiping it off). The collyrium just vaguely left on the eyes is the only thing visible when the face is washed.
She arose and went out to the yard where a banyan tree grew. She had changed her clothes, a fine kain, red-colored like fresh blood. [She had to dress up again and reduce the tightness of her kain. Her behind looked like the lover part of a yellow ivory coconut tree, so round and full.
There the favourite maid-servant came to visit the princess with the pretence of giving her instructions in etiquette and flower-arrangement. The calyxes of the pandanus-flower were composed into an image of a child (a doll). When it was ready, then the princess took a look at it and discussed the artistry of it.
"Milady, I will give you a truthful advice. Do not stay in this beautiful garden all the time. Inhaling the fragrance of the flowers is dangerous, because of the schemes of the bumblebee. In short milady, do not let the signs of infatuation be too obvious, conceal your pangs of love, in case that camels come to cuckatoos and talk about it.
"Milady, now you must wear a necklace of gaḍung-flowers and your hairknot may not be decorated with flowers anymore. That is why I come here quietly to give instruction in kakavins and to introduce you to their art. It is like this, milady. Your infatuation towards King Krəṣṇa is known and rumoured by the people at large. People say, you wear 'two sumpiṅs' (two lovers), [or] you hide a pandanus-flower in the knot of your waistband.
Princess Rukmiṇī was really moved by the expression of concern of the maid servant and tried to follow her advice, because it came from someone who really knew the prescript to the letter. She felt slightly annoyed, but concealed it in her heart. Outwardly she revealed a smile. Both the bitterness of her heart and the curving of her eyebrows were dissolved in [a smile sweet as] honey.
The ladies in waiting came to see that [the princess] was kept there and could not go away. Almost like guarding a jewel, [the princess] was watched, bearing in mind the love of the princess [towards King Krəṣṇa]. Every notion and thought could be noticed in bad and good actions. And that was why the princess pretended to be good, any token of love [towards King Krəṣṇa] was hidden and not revealed.
Thus Princess Rukmiṇī whiled avay her pangs of love, though repeatedly feeling to fail. Happily she looked at the well-cared for garden, bathing in the moonlight, shining brightly like by day. The sweet smell of the kəmuniṅ flowers was brought by the wind which also stirred the leaves in motion with soft rustling. The (calyxes of the) kəmuniṅ flowers were like small pieces of ivory spread everywhere all over the level surface of stones.
Also the offerings-place on the elephant rock was beautifully decorated. Smoke emerging from the firewood [in the offerings-place] whirled around and spiralled upward resembling the flickering sparks of longing. The young leaves of the tejamantən tree were so brillant and colourful, after the dew had dried up, glittering so sweetly and tenderly but so bright as if reflecting the rays of the moon.
The ladies of the court delightfully sought their amusement by gathering flowers noisily, but those gossipping about the behaviour of the princess talked in a low voice. They were afraid to speak about [the princess] being in love, they wanted to ask about it, but [the princess] behaved like a lady-hermit. Two sisters, wearing ornaments of flowers, were playing the saṅghani so loud.
There were a lot of notions expressed and one of them acted as a conductor at an amusement house. The others were still young girls, they were noisy like children and acted like children. It made one happy to listen to their chatter which resembled the cries of the vultures. For sure the feelings of one seeing the girls carrying yam would grow freely.
Let us relate the one wearing a veil of light material, sitting in their midst. Her face looked like the moon with a ring around, but cowered by thin clouds. Those performing the dance of pañji (or those performing the mask-dance) were so marwellous, sweetly [the movements] of their fingers resembled the blooming bakuṅ flowers. There were also a number of girls playing kilusū ruyuṅ, displaying the calf of their legs which were equal to exposed pandanus-flowers.
There were some [girls] enacting Ratih (the goddess of love) followed by her attendants, scaling the mountain with great difficulties, which brought about hilarity. Not to mention the one in whispering voice, almost inaudible, lamenting about her love. Feebly she turned into ashes, covering nicely the cheeks of those present there.
There were others who weary of wanderiṅ around took a rest, reclining on a flat stone. Śrīdanta flowers and dew fell upon them, but they seemed not to care. Their loose and unorderly hair, flying in the wind, presented a delightful sight. Slightly risky were their ear-ornaments, jasmines with fireflies inside.
It was late at night, yet those looking for amusement in the park were still many. They danced and sang with sweet voices, others were resting in the verandas with the excuse of being tired to the ultimate. Those singing unduly loudly, gave rise to laughter without apparent reason. The elderly women in the women-quarters who wanted to sleep, were disturbed and asked them to stop.
When it was almost morning, the air turned quiet. It was six o'clock. There, in the cages, the birds were singing, responded to by those living in the wild. The planet Venus came up, shining brightly as big as a tañjuṅ flower and as fabulous, resembling an earring. The Sun-god was nicely taken into the lap [of the sky], covered sparingly by a thin cloud.
Then let us relate the princess Rukmiṇī. She awoke with a tremulous heart, because the day that the wedding ceremonies would start had come. Gloomily she sat with her head in her hands, only in neglige, because she did not pay heed at all that her hair was loose. Teg...ssst. Suddenly her heart beat faster, because someone was coming.
Well, the pavilion in which the princess would be paid homage and waited upon was ready. However, only the lady in waiting, who had something to do with the decoration of the throne [was allowed to be present], because nobody else knew what was in the mind of the princess, and she was very able to direct the things to be done, because she was really a leader.
The ivory tabouret had arrived. Also the bed was ready, complete with overlapping screens. The golden bed became more and more beautiful, with the edges of the screens lined with golden thread. There, the lovely pillows were laid together with trays of jewellery and clothing. Also an ivory vaistband, carved exquisitely, appropriate to the jewellery-box was set at its side.
The silken waistbands in reserve were suspended on a line and the sweet smell spread everywhere. The pictures on the draperies were truly fantastic, e.g. the wandering cuckatoos seemed really to be able to speak and the dragons with open jaws and winding around each other at the ceilings looked real. On the head-[side of the bed] there was an image of the god of love with a crown [on his head] and a sword and bow [and arrows] in his hands.
There below was placed a dining set, colorfully decorated. An unblemished washing bowl filled with water was so gorgeous, that it seemed to be a jewel filled with nectar. Reliefs of red lotus with leaves made of precious stones gave delight to the eyes, as they glittered and glowed brightly. Why should it not flare up if touched by the rays of the night lamp.
The lustre of the jewels was like [real] lotuses emerging from the water. The smell of ground ferns lingered on like the humming of a swarm of bumblebees. A simbar, made of golden plates, opening slightly, poured water down onto a pumpkin, gave the effect of a moon-circle. The jewel stones flashed their light like stars winking at the stars in the sky.
It was seven o'clock. The moon had long since gone. The (sound of ) people waking up in the east and west-side (everywhere) was clamorous. Those going to work asked for their breakfast, and the sound of well-sweeps were slightly audible contrapuntally.
When it was broad daylight, the sky was clear and bright. The stars disappeared like the śrīgaḍiṅ flowers thoroughly swept away. The clouds were wonderful like clothes of all kinds of colours, red, green and others. The orb of God Aruṇa (sun) came up, shining like a red pot.
The city became busier and busier and the garantuṅ (music) became louder and louder [mixed] with the neighing of horses tied up to the big banyan trees. The sight of elephants, one after another [heading for the river] to be bathed was magnificent. Their bells rang in double counterpoint, responding to each other, and also to the deep sounds of the gongs.
Those in charge of taking out famous regalia, made their preparations. The lampuran tower in the royal square was a feast to the eyes. The offerings were placed there outside the palace. And the tents, erected in the royal square had roofs of all colours.
The buildings for the performance of the royal function were perfectly well-built and well-arranged in a cluster. In the middle was a building in the form of a meru, tall like a mountain of gold. The draperies resembling the clouds were flying in the wind, giving rise to tender feelings. The creepers [made of chains of] pearls bore the resemblance of the water of the fountain.
Let us describe the multitude of common people who came to see [the festivities]. There were people who came in extraordinary vehicles [not usually] for transporting human beings, because they wanted to arrive quickly. Others were walking accompanied by their wives striding ahead. Carefully they took the hands of their children and when [the women] were too far ahead, they called out to wait for them.
They wore extraordinary bright and colorful dodots, which they stored away very carefully, the reason why the motives stayed in tact. Only [on special occasion like] cockfightings, they wore thc dodot. [That was why] when they wanted to stand up, they came to a miserable surprise, their dodot was torn in the middle.
There were a multitude of stalls [exhibiting merchandise or amusements]. One of them attracted a [large] group of people. They went to see a mask-dance, then moved further to the vocalists stalls. It is the nature of people from the rural areas that they got easily stupefied at what they saw. They pointed enthusiastically at everything they saw, they were even delighted to see a banner.
Others stopped by the place of offerings for the demons etc and gathered into a big crowd, but they did not [care] to listen to the maidens singing lovely hymns. The priest cut the ceremony short, because he was afraid of the big crowd. He rang the bell frantically while pronouncing the formulae of redemption.
It was already late when the princess wearing her woollen attire departed hurriedly, accompanied by the wives of high-ranking officials and those‚ wantiṅ to make their audience in the palace. The van-guard with drums in front was already arranged outside, and ready to march. The Śivaite, Viṣṇuite and Buddhist priests began to depart.
The princess looked more and more like the embodiment of beauty, the queen of loveliness, when she sat in a sedan-chair in a position of serving offerings, motionless and voiceless, she quietly performed the rituals of worship. Her lips gave a glimpse of a smile, sweet like the image of a goddess.
Who would be the person not be infatuated on seeing the grace of the princess, who became more and more lustrious by wearing all kinds of jewellery and ornaments? Indeed she shone amazingly so brightly like clouds showering gold. She looked like the goddess Sandhyā (twilight) whenever her (upper) arm-band glittered.
Her hairknot was so attractive, overlaid by ornaments of gold and precious stones, e.g. a səkar-taji flower [of gold] shaped like a lotus with extremely sharp points. When it reflected the glitter of the ūrṇṇā (a jewellery at the top of the hair-knot), its beautiful rays were so sweet, increasing the refinement of her face, boosted by the shape of her well-formed shoulders.
The bracelets winding around her arms were in the form of snakes in a coil. The golden anklets were nicely encrusted with precious stones. A waistband of silk tightly held her kain as it should be and the paṅucals were decorated with soft-shining nīla stones.
The stones on her rings, decorating her fingers, shone spotlessly clear. [The colour] 'yellow’ is supposed to remove all faults as a result of touching by hands. Her earrings had brilliant diamonds, shining extremely intensely. It is clear that the purpose was to ward off all flaws that come through the ear.
At noon when it was quite hot, [the mind of] the princess was restless. Sweat flowed freely down to her bosom, like liquid that came out of a jewel, very subtle, increasing [her] sweetness. The rays of the diamonds were like panu (white spots on the skin) spread all over her chest.
The hundred concubines [of the king] behind him were like Ratihs coming together. They were like flowers of all kinds, spread all over the place, discarding penetrating fragrance, so sweet like jaṅgas, aśokas, lotuses, vuṅu, tañjuṅ and asanas. The wings of the bumblebee were appropriate to be likened to their kains worn in such a graceful way.
There was a lady resembling a pandanus-flower composed as a garland around the neck. Also her countenance was so lovely, o, it was without equal. (The heart of) those to see [her] would be desirous and would want to dispose her kain, to embrace her and become her slave. Her charm should be absorbing if she were an opponent in the battle of love.
Another rose up, because there was not enough room. Her behaviour was so enticing, as she appeared restless, her body tightly wrapped in her kain. A man was charmed by her beauty and wanted to impose upon ber‚ what made her only angry. However her annoyance only increased her attractiveness.
A lady, whose growing breasts resembled round ivory coconuts, curved her eye-brows so sternly that furrows came to her face. The passion of those charmed by her abated [a little], and the hearts of the wives [of those men] were like being cut to pieces, seeing the new women [in the life of their men].
Then there was a beautiful and young maidservant, carrying a betel-box. She looked so sweet, as if offering smiles while throwing side-glances. However she behaved still like a virgin who cried a lot when hurt. In fact she loved to be taken on the lap, embraced and to sleep together.
Another beauty was continuously attending [the princess], offering flowers, but when she moved further away, she sat on the wrong side, and all the offerings were permeated with [magic], [so that whoever made mistakes] she would get nightmares, but those who were attentive and correct in their conduct said they had good dreams.
Those having to do jobs in the dressing room were not less beautiful. When the night arrived, they sat with their heads in their hands as if they made an oath to refrain themselves from sexual intercourse. They talked noisily about to become a virgin again and another about how to narrow [the vulva]. They took their leave with folded hands and then went home after change of duty.
Time passed by. The sun came up from under [the sea]. All those waiting upon the princess went home, because she had been cared for sufficiently, although the coolness [of the air] at that time was like that at the time of low tide (of the sea).
As for the princess, she was left alone and seemed disturbed and in grief. Furthermore passion came to torture [her] ‚ like darkness arriving to enter [her mind]. She longed for King Krəṣṇa and hated the king of Cedī lands. That tender feelings [toward King Krəṣṇa] and enmity [towards the king-of Cedī] were raging inside, each one trying to subdue the other.
The maidservants, beautiful wives of officials, were always at the side of the princess, trying to console her mind as they knew very well how to serve [the mistress]. All their actions [were aimed] to make her happy, e.g. they were sveet and entertaining or playing chess or dakon.
Near the princess there was a female hermit, batikking calmly. She was new in the service, her hair was tied up [like a hermit], but she was not old. She was once a lady-companion of the princess and was very devoted to her. After the death of her husband, she returned to the service of the princess.
That was why she attempted to console the sorrowful and grieving princess. Her sweet talks were aimed to stop her from worrying. So she expressed herself in mleccha-language, whispering to her distressed companion. The princess understood the sign-language and looked at her eyes which were like saying:
"Milady, listen to these words which are expressed in an uncommon way. At the waning of the moon, your sister [that is I], will go away. So I ask leave of you to go for a trip, to travel with King Kresna on my own decision to serve at his feet. It is the palace of Dvaravati where [I], the one wishing to serve, wants to go.
"People say that the city is fabulous, because it is close to the sea and also near the mountains. It is ruled by King Janarddana who is very outstanding and extremely powerful. Perhaps there is something that I can take to give to him from you, milady. Feel free to give it to me. Even if I be driven away from here, I will give it to him.
"Understand these words fully, they are not intended for those who are not instructed in it. It is Dvāravatī of whose beauty I am talking about, according to the person that has told me. For ten days I have served him, never separated wherever he went. He is a good friend who accompanied me to enter and look around in the palace.
"Afterwards I travelled again, [this time] to the bushes of the mountains, wandering around freely, [whilst] happily enjoying the food along the way, which was doubly tastier than [the food in the city]. Accidently it was the month of Kārttika, when the fragrance and bloom of the flowers was at its prime. I and the bee were passionate, my dear, never satiated in enjoying flowers of all kinds.
"Because if you say that the flowers on the coastal areas are not fragrant, for sure you have just to see the sweetness of the kanigara flowers. flowers just opening their crowns, impart fragrance. Why should they be left [alone] ? Even the maṇḍalika plants creeping at the fences perhaps give also rise to enjoyment.
"In the case of the vuṅu flowers, they are beautiful in the morning before sun-rise. It is as if they are awaken by the fall of dew mixed with the rumblings of occasional thunder. Do not cut the stalks [of the vuṅu flowers] with a knife, just break them off together with the buds, and carry them along while walking on the slopes of the mountains, while hunting for flying white ants.
"If we talk about the asana flowers, when it is broad daylight, then their beauty becomes apparent. The cloudy fog has just disappeared in the air, and substituted by the honey-sucking bee. To really enjoy its loveliness, you have to cut the twigs altogether, laden with flowers. When it does not look beautiful anymore and withers, leave it at the resthouse.
"A girl can use the aśoka and the lotus to deck herself at all times. If you pick them up, it is best to make a bunch of them, and if you string them, then it is best to wear them in the hairknot. A woman as old as your sister here (I) still thinks that she is as old as an aśoka flower. The fragrant blue lotuses are more attractive than the eyes in a pretty face.
The ciṇḍaga flower is gorgeous when it is blooming, but it should he picked when it is still young and not yet fragrant. At sunset is the best time to make them into a doll. The cāmara’s beauty is at its peak when the heat of the sun is almost gone. They are used as ear-ornaments by those, who after making love are sitting with their heads in their hands, moaninng in satiation.
"When the sun has set, the dalima flowers are blooming and best to be used as scatter-flowers. The sweet-smelling jasmines usually blossom in the evening, look divine and exquisite in the darkening light. Normally the kemuning is best when it is whiffled by the night breeze. It is good to be worn as ear-ornaments by those lying on the ground and using their hands as pillows, want to enjoy the moon".
Thus were the words of the female hermit consoling the mind of the princess. Also those sitting in the audience were telling stories about their own happy experiences which brought delight to the princess. Nicely they related in songs an ancient story, very sweet to listen to, e.g. the stories from the Mahābhārata etc, its significance composed and related in a pleasant way.
Then there was a lady in waiting withexcellent behaviour, just taken from the enemies and brought to the palace. She was the chief official in charge of sexual affairs in its broadest sense. She responded to the story of the lady hermit [as follows]: "Why [should we] talk about the beauty of flowers? It does not inspire passion, nor inflame penetrating emotions, and lacks sensual gratification.
"If my little sweetheart looks around, then there is nothing that can surpass the art of sex. It was night when I came to know about the enjoyment of love. A new kain became so worn out spoilt by perfume and the smell of cream. Only there on the breasts, the pain as a result of nails had not yet gone.
"The significance of the morning is that it is the arrival of a [new] day. [The lover was] in a hurry, from fear of coming too late at work, and reached for his kain. However his legs were weak and I used his arm as pillow. Just as he wanted to rise, flowers showered on him, from my hairknot which came loose. Then I rose up, made my kain right and came out, [a shawl] covering [my body] and looking relaxed.
"After bathing I started to dress up together [with my lover], sitting nicely side by side. Because we were sitting with our thighs one upon the other, we were afraid of making the lines of the eyebrows of each other, but it is nice to see how we tied each other's hairknot and inserted a campaka in it. Out of passion our kains fell down, we wanted to straighten them, but failed, because we bent down [at the same time] and embraced the middle of each other.
"However, if it is just 7 o'clock, then it is best to stay in bed. The feeling of being in bed so near together gave rise to passion and we started a pillow battle. When sweat came out, though only a little bit, we wiped it off, starting from the face down to the inner sides of the thighs. It was nice to sing and to play with the flute while his fingers were roaming through the chest and playing with the breasts.
"When the day turns cool, then it is time to go to the garden, out of the bedroom. Take refuge in the shade of a tree to cool down, to air the atmosphere of passion. In my case, I felt tired and weak, and sat close to a pandanus flower. I was naked and at the peak of passion. He came from behind and I did not notice him. Suddenly he grabbed me and cowered my eyes with his hands.
"When evening came, I leisurely went to lie down in the rest room. I was weak. When he approached me in a very nice way, I pretended to be annoyed and said that I was sick. Then he came to console me by holding my hands, tried to seduce me. He seemed to be aroused; while massaging my arms, he asked about the cause of illness.
"In the evening after 8 o'clock it is nice to go to the garden to cool oneself. The jasmines were almost opening [and I put some] on my ears, sweetly wafted along by the breeze. I was absorbed looking at the moon, not yet shining brightly, just coming out behind the branches of a tree. Then delightfully I returned to the house, because my lover came and called me by sweet names.
"On the couch usually we met together, because he waited for me there, welcoming me with a smile. I came and sat on his lap while looking into his adoring eyes. Quickly he gave me a flower with his right hand and when I took it, he reached for my breasts. His mouth offered me cheved betel, kissing me on the lips and cheeks.
"When the moon was about four meters high, then it was really good to make love. It was not so fitting to do it on the couch, so we moved to the yard. There we sat very close together, drinking and eating, just the two of us. We poured each other liquor and fed each other too".
The two ladies in waiting were sitting, facing each other, in front [of the princess] and both were very good in psychology. And a jəṅgi girl sweetly waited upon them with a betel-kit on her lap, sitting in unerring attitude. Everything enjoyable was served on trays, lacking nothing, e.g. citroen leaves as lalab that went with warm dishes ordered at a short notice before.
"When we almost finished our fourth or fifth drink, the hour struck three. The betel came up nicely, mixed with kapulaga and without fail the lime, served in a refined ornamented cloth, because people who were fond of chewing betel, ready prepared, did not want them to be served in a fruit bowl".
When the beauteous moon was setting and almost gone, thin clouds were covering it lightly. It was quiet, not a single sound was heard in response to the cry of a rooster. There, the maids were asleep in a sitting position, as if intending to induce [the princess] to sleep. Let us relate the womenfolk who appeared so lonely, amusing themselves with stories of their experiences which were interesting to hear.
"When it was my turn to sleep (free from watch), I was passionate and went home as quick as possible. After I entered the bedroom with my lover and had made love together, ve did not sleep soon afterwards. We did not go to sleep, but straightened up the hairknot that came loose, filled the lamp with more oil to brighten it up and watched the flickering flame attracting mosquitoes.
"Furthermore the benefit of staying awake was to be absorbed in the sound of the music. It was the second of the dark fortnight, the moon was bright and seemed to bring along moisture with its sweetness, not like at full moon. I walked along slowly and the servants were also in couples, all in the mood for love, and I was alvays with my lover. Then we made love [again], followed by the servants in concord.
"So it was undescribable how we gratify our passion, because the night is overwhelmingly romantic. The mind of those seeing couples matching in every aspect as foreseen before, would be satisfied. Yet I was troubled like King Krəṣṇa [at present]. Although he is without equal throughout the kingdoms of Kuṇḍina, further he is endowed with excellent virtues worthy to be given the princess in marriage [yet he is not]’’.
Then there was someone who responded that the king of Cedi could surpass King Krəṣṇa in the world. "Ah, you are crazy, my dear. He is far from being his shadow, let alone to match him in splendour. It is as if [the king of Cedi] is a creeper in the forest. How could it match the offshoots of the gaḍuṅ? Also [look at] the buds of the trikañcu. How could it be compared with that of a campaka?”
The princess looked happy to hear the conversation of her attendants. There were traces of laughter on her lips, but disappeared quickly like powder [on one's face] when washed.
She was afraid of being called light-hearted. That was the reason that suddenly her sorrow emerged. Resembling the calyx of an asana flower she spoke with a broken voice. Her glance was without glimmer.
When it was almost time [for the pamidudukan ceremony] she washed herself and dressed up. Then she was prepared [for the occasion], because the time had come. The moon looked pale and was already at the western horizon, and the clouds were yellowish in colour like that of rust.
The clouds were thick and widespread, clearly visible in the last rays of the moon. The lightflashes were only mild, not significant, like the winking of crying eyes with long intervals.
The one overwhelmed by love and affliction became more upset, seeing tbe splendour of the ten directions. The thunder boomed so remote, like the yawn of someone woken up from slumber after intercourse.
So all the decorations were quietly illuminated [by the sun]. She went to the bathing-place which was grotesque provided with a gate with doors. There inside, the ceremony would take place.
There was a pavillion which matched the mar wellous abode of the goddess of love. It was small and isolated, but nicely decorated with carvings. The structure was made of the inner part of blackwood; the roof was superb in being decorated with ivory.
The jəriṅ creepers growing on the upper part of the roof were sprouting everywhere, interspersed by those of the asana. The jaṅgas were flowering on the eves. The garagat flowers thickly shaded [the pavilion].
There were plenty of stones arranged in the garden in the form of an oblong box with sand of firestones. The yard was never swept and the rubbish debris of surabhi, rajasa and tañjuṅ flowers was there in heaps.
The princess went there, looking like a withering pandanus flower, which was almost dry. Passion was marifested more and more in her heart which was soft from yearning for King Krəṣṇa.
"Ah, my dear one who went away when I woke up from my dreams by [the rumblings of] thunder. If there are things that disturb you, look for [me] in the pandanus flower. If you disappear in the thick clouds of yonder, let the kalaṅkyaṅ bird call [me]. If you disappear in the folds of letters, then inform [me] and I will obey the directions of the writing pad.
"It is true that you are a divine king, and everything around you gives rise to beauty. In the beginning of the month, the atmosphere is so distressing as if clarity be darkened by haze, the embodiment of thunder in the boat is shaken by the onslaught of the rumbling swell. Your charms lie in the enchantment of the rainbow created by the last rays of the setting sun.
"Your image in the picture is small like a dwarf. Not all the body is [in the picture], only the face is clearly seen. In the mirror you are seen standing on my breasts. You are always in my mind and if I think of you, tears well into my eyes.
"Whatever may happen, please come and cut away all my fears due to my love [towards you]. How could I find the fulfilment of my love, because it is so difficult [to attain] and there are so many obstacles. I know that the bee cannot kiss the campaka hidden in the hairknot. Why should not the bumblebee, desiring to touch and caress the jaṅga flower, disperse an ear-ornament?
"My dear, I know that you want to see me when I am naked, for sure you want to see my waist, which shape is only visible through the wrappings of the waistband. And you will be so delighted to see my belly uncovered while I am dressing up the hairknot. In fact [I will] agree to give you chewed up betel straight from [my] lips.
"Ah, the significance of family relationship is meaningless, the fear in my heart breaks them apart. In the kakavin (poems) it is said that the ashes of men are the same as the powder of the pandanus flower. My brother, in the letters, although we breathe the same air, [the wind] separates the flowers. It is better that they [the flowers] be in the same place, unseparated. Not just staying in a house with just a picture".
When the princess was in tears, a messenger of her mother arrived (at that time). She came and sat beside her and spoke in a friendly manner, her words full of wisdom and expedience.
"My dear child, I am the messenger of your mother, and I come to give you advice. Your mother said, that you should consider [it] carefully to meet the invited one as soon as possible.
"O, my dear, you must dress up quickly. The time agreed upon has arrived when darkness falls at night, and the clouds are thick in the sky with occasional thunder.
"My dear, what would we do? Have you thought of one good course? Have you chosen a friend in the undertaking or have you thought of other ways or possibilities?
"When you fail, my dear, I fail too. Clearly all my family will perish. Also all the relatives and friends will be finished. Who should not be afraid of being caught in planning [an escape] ?
"Your escape at present is indeed extremely difficult. What good guidance and excellent directives should be taken? All the doors are carefully watched and the guards in the palace compound are well-armed.
"The king of Cedi is at the fences, withall his well-equipped and treacherous soldiers. King Krəṣṇa, your destination is so far away. His deliverance might not come quick enough.
"However what preference do I have? My mistress, do not think that I will not go with you. I am your faithful and devout servant. I will be happy to die at your feet".
The maidservant spoke, while holding her tears. The one she spoke to (the princess) remained silent as in mauna (a priest performing the oath of silence). It is true, she is only in mauna outwardly. Outwardly she is silent, but inwardly she is in turmoil.
What made her so heavily burdened was her true love tovards her mother. She was not so afraid of her father's discountenance, and also she considered carefully the anger of her brother.
Prince Rukma was really her older brother, to whom she should pay devotion and love, because he always gave her advice in good behaviour and protected his younger sister sincerely, as he was careful in looking after his sister's feelings.
The prince of Cedi was his (Rukma's) good friend. He was his choice, no-one else. However the princess had not the same idea. She accepted him as husband, not because she loved [him].
The princess loved her father and mother dearly. Her fear for her brother was mixed with affection. However, these feelings were swept away by [the feelings towards] King Krəṣṇa. Because of this, she had to leave them today.
The maid-servant spoke again: "What is your choice, my dear mistress. Express your directives which come from deep consideration. I am in suspense and confused.
"I have an idea, my dear. You have to go in the disguise of a lady-hermit. Your hairknot should be tied in the way of a lady-hermit and your beautiful breasts should be covered by a veil. Use ashes sparingly on your cheeks to conceal your lovely face, so that you will not be recognized. Walk slowly wearing a nice waistband in the disguise of a lady-hermit.
"Your mode of escape should be considered [carefully] if [the aforementioned] is not good enough. Refuse it, but if it is alright, let us do it. So, my dear, take off your kain, and wear this cloth, tie the waistband tightly. Throw away all the ornaments of your hairknot, e.g. the ribbon of silk, the jasmine-flowers, and also the ear-ornaments. All your behaviour as a princess should be hidden, so that [you can] pass all the obstacles that may arise".
The exalted princess replied (to the words of the maid-servant): "My sister, why should I disguise myself as a lady-hermit, as you say? It will not do, do not expect too much from it. For a kṣatriya it is better to die for the purpose of attaining his or her aim, and that is by upholding the correct way. So, look at those, vhose heads were severed, because they fought for the honour of a kṣatriya.
"Let them attack me, sister, if they discover my plan [to escape], but me only. It is already known and everybody talks about it in the city, moreover in the palace, that I do not look forward to the wedding, and that I hate the golden umbrella. I am afraid I am trembling from love, why should I be in fear to bear about danger?"
The maid replied: "What use are luxuries of the palace, if you have to loose the love of whom you send letters and poems? It is difficult to decide of going along with someone who claims to be a good friend, but in the end lets you down, [only because you are] afraid that people will talk and gossip about you and raise their eyebrows?
"It is better to live in peace in a hermitage in the village with a temple full of vuṅu flowers, and to enjoy life together, even in danger of being traced by the father. [It is better] to go in hiding in a house in an isolated place, unknown to relatives, then waiting for a messenger to come with an order to come home to pay respect [to a husband you do not love] ‚
"Ah, my dear, I talk rubbish. Well, give your decision to be carried out. It is better that you break out, my dear, and do not be long. Take heed to the words of your servant. Truly, King Krəṣṇa without fail and for sure, will be waiting. I will go ahead to inform him, where to find you and about the danger".
The words of the maid-servant were friendly and made good impression in the heart of one planning to escape. Moreover there was the chance [of escape by mixing up with] people going in and out. All her trusted lady companions waiting upon her, asked her leave to sleep, but the princess nicely refused to retire.
Furthermore, her mind was not as ever before, she was occupied with the plan of escape. There was no paper on her lap anymore, which she brought along to read withi nterest. She set aside the book together with the young yellow coconut away from her (breasts). The young yellow coconut was a baby-doll she was nursing. Now she stopped nursing it.
After she took off all her clothes and ornaments that might betray her, and already dressed in disguise attire, she stood up. Facing the direction of her father's quarters, she made her salutations respectfully. Then she went away quietly, only accompanied by her maid-servant, pretending to go to the garden. After a while, she walked as quiet as possible, as if she was pulled by [the power of] love.
She passed all the obstacles [of the way] without mishaps. She passed through a secret door, and quarters of womenfolk [of the palace] was already far behind her. Tbe fear that invested her heart disappeared and turned into encouraging expectations of happiness. It was as if she bad just crossed a deep and dangerous river. Her heart beat faster from excitement.
Madhusudana (King Krəṣṇa) had been waiting for a long time. Then the maidservant who went ahead came and informed him of the arrival of the princess, briefly and softly.
Quickly King Krəṣṇa came to meet Princess Rukmiṇī who walked wearily. He (came and) took her in his arms and carried her into the wagon and then speeded away.
The enjoyment of happy feelings, love [etc] if mixed with danger could push aside emotion. It was true that they were sitting side by side very close together, but their minds were in uproar and fear.
King Baladeva received the word from King Krəṣṇa to stay behind, to oppose the king of Cedi as long as possible, because for sure he would be furious and would want to attack.
Who would not be struck by great sorrow, if he lost something valuable that disappeared through his fingers. Furthermore he was so close to his gaol. The sorrow of King Cedi was like that.
When it was known that Princess Rukmiṇī escaped from the palace, all the people (of the palace) were in uproar. "What has happened; why and what is this. It is so and so," they said, without knowing the facts.
[A messenger] came to King Bhīṣmaka, without observing time and regulations. He talked already before paying his respect, telling what he knew about the princess.
The people conveyiṅ the message that the princess had disappeared, came in steady count. King Kresna was accused to be the person behind the misconduct [namely] takiṅ avay the princess like a thief.
King Bhīṣmaka could not speak, when he heard the reports of those people. He wanted to stick to the instruction of religious knowledge, [namely] only to believe in the reports after due investigations.
There were some doubts that perhaps Princess Rukmiṇī had gone to the king of Cedi, because she was in love, she could not wait for the proper procedure [to be carried out]. It is the logic of women, wrong action which brings no happiness.
That was what he firstly considered. At last the report of those who saw the princess leaving was verified and clear. She had quietly disappeared to join King Krəṣṇa.
It is characteristic for a woman that love for her husband is greater than that for her father or mother. Where else should the sight of the princess be directed to [that] she forgot about her love towards her father and mother?
So it became clear that the princess had gone. Soon the news spread and became known everywhere. The orchestra ceased instantaneously, and numerous people were on the road coming and going uproariously.
They said that clearly there would be a great war. The king of Cedi obviously would be extremely angry, and those in anger usually are ready to die, because a courageous man would not tolerate insult.
On the other hand it is appropriate to consider the facts. The princess is a match for King Krəṣṇa, therefore in short 'let us leave it that way, because it is appropriate. If not, the country will plunge into chaos’.
"Ah, you only say to save the (mind of) weak people. Your mind is not the mind of a kṣatriya. Krəṣṇa is insolent, and a lion is never afraid, but quick in temper when facing in enemy. The enemy will be torn apart. Why should we be afraid?
"Because if you are soft-hearted in cases of improper conduct, the world would be permissive, because there is no punishment. In brief, kr̥ṣṇa should be sentenced to death, because it is proper like that. There will be many unruly people, if [Krəṣṇa's] behaviour is tolerated.
"Moreover it is said, that there is something in the scriptures which says, that his behaviour is not that of a king, who should be always cautious [in his conduct]. Well, just look, even a herdsman knows how to rule. Just look, if there is a naughty cow, he does not hesitate to beat it up.
"Well, well, if I have to reply to your noisy talk, [listen to this]. King Krəṣṇa is well-known to be a lion [amongst men]. If you hunt him, he will be far from afraid, and those hunters are far from being courageous.
"Even if they are courageous enough, their death is obvious. Just remember those demons! The greatest amongst them was Kangsa, they were all killed. [Kresna] was known as the most elevated conqueror who gave service to the three worlds, because clearly he is known to everybody as the manifestation of god Wisnu”.
Thus they said, but nobody took notice or had the time [to notice]. East, west, south and north quarters were in uproar, and the noise spread and swelled endlessly to other directions dangerously.
Well, the king of Cedi was overwhelmed by great sorrow, and his friend in distress was no-one else than King Jarāsandha, who was also exceedingly sad. Quickly they held a conference and soon they prepared themselves [for battle] as quick as possible. Numerous were the officers and soldiers, who came well-armed waiting for orders.
The conference did not take much time to decide, that only Krəṣṇa had to be hunted, searched and destroyed as soon as possible. Because the decision was taken so quickly and based on anger, there was no policy of secrecy.
Then Prince Rukma came to make his audience in the palace, as soon as he heard of the disappearance of his younger sister, namely secretly leaving [the court] in a very wicked way. Janārddana (Krəṣṇa) had cut the eyes and broken the rope, bringing about great sorrow. That was the reason that Prince Rukma came to his father to talk.
He came before the heroic king Bhīṣmaka, who could not speak freely, because he was holding back his tears. His throat seemed to close, as if a kudu fruit was stuck inside, because of his great sorrow. Therefore he was out of speech, clearly he was very upset.
"Please, accept the homage of one who is full of sorrow, but at all times kissing the feet of Your Majesty. It has been a long time, that Your Majesty is out of composure as if without life, because of the mishap with Rukmiṇī, kidnapped by the infamous villain Krəṣṇa, a king lacking good guidance, foolish and full of pride, [only] because people regard him as king.
"Like one walking with a stick feels he has knowledge of religion, whilst in fact he knows nothing about manners. For sure he (Krəṣṇa) knows that it is wrong to break the privilege of other people, because a person who is very foolish and unintelligent is never spoken about, [but everybody speaks about Krəṣṇa]. A blind man, how [on earth] could he know the difference between good and bad behaviour?
"However, Prəthukirtti the mother of Rukmiṇī is a wicked woman. How could she know what good and bad actions are. Your Majesty is influenced [by her], why should my lord regard that act [of Krəṣṇa] as good? It does not do any good to regard [Krəṣṇa] as good.
"Thus the duty of a 'man' is to have mercy towards his own folk, [namely] those who are devoted to him, the property of his wives who are good of conduct, very devout and faithful. Even if he is rich and young, of good conduct, it is appropriate to follow all his actions".
"Look, my child, think! How could people like me, a king, agree with the ways of an extremely debased and wicked hooligan. However, because your nature is satya (good or true), you should think only good [of others]. It is always forbidden for a king to be false, because it is exceedingly bad.
"Bear [always] these words of mine in your mind, and re-affirm them. Concerning the misfortune that has befallen you, my child, I know that. You are in a better position [than I am], because you will not be accused by the whole world of misconduct. The one to be blamed for [all these] will be me, and I will accept that.
"As for the case of being deceived, again it is not you [that should take the blame]. You have to see it in this way. There is a story from the ancient past, namely that of the renowned Rāmabhadra, who was also an incarnation of Wiṣṇu. Even Rāma was brought into great desolation by a golden deer.
"The meaning of my words is this. Do not grieve too much, my child. The mind is the reason for filth, but the mind is also the means for its cancellation. It is true that water is the carrier of impurities, but it is also true that [impurities] can only be washed away or purified by water.
"This sorrow we suffer now, clearly will change into happiness. In the mind there is nothing that can equal bewilderment and perplexity. As long as there is body-consciousness, then there is the belief of enjoying a happy life, but one does not know that he is blinded by matter, and forgets entirely [the soul].
"Well the truth about people who do penance and worship [deities] for want of wealth and jewellery; also making long journeys by boat, leaving behind their wives and children only because they want gold and silver, and when they become the lords of wealth, possessing all kinds of excellent precious stones and richness, is, that in 'dharmma’ it is better to be without. These gold and silver are useless.
"Let me tell you about the king of Wallabha and his ministers and officials. The reason for his sorrow, the fall of his government, and the disappearance of all traces of his good conduct, e.g. his prayers in the mornings and evenings, his worship has no faults [and everything] is in accordance with the regulation of the Lord, but his aim is only worldly power. That was what he obtained, but not for long, not for all times.
"Also the divine teacher Kaśa, who was renowned throughout the world. He had many pupils, young obedient priests and widows of the nobility, then he enjoyed [the widows], and gave away his peace and was very keen [in beautifying himself] by blackening his teeth [etc]. He wanted to enjoy the fruit of the future now.
"Thus is the story of the life of Priest Kaśa which was very difficult and full of daṅers. The harshness of destruction was experienced. If one is thoughtful about the benefit of truth, it will be difficult [for bad influences] to get near, but if in times of lackiṅ lands, one's limbs are weary, then he will fall. Only a [few] months can he enjoy [life]. How much enjoyment could he get? Not very much.
"And if we should talk about grammar, let us discuss Saṅ Sabdika (Mr. Word). He had studied many sutras (religious handbooks) for a long time, yet could not master [them], because their objectives and applications were not clear to him. [His explanations] were not convincing, and sounded untrue. When time to make use of his knowledge came, it did not yield any good result.
"Let us talk about those champions in logical disputations, who can remember the philosophies originating from the north as well as from ancient times. They studied all the difficult words and phrases in earnest, yet they made them more confused and when they were facing each other in the contest in the hall, they became weary from looking for the meaning which was in accordance with the philosophical sect. It is nothing else than the honor and praise that they are after by their exertions.
"On the other hand, it might be better to become a poet, able to relax, come and go at will without burden, contented in his mood and if there be tender feelings from a mistress, he can respond with ardour. He does not care about power or position, wherever he goes, everything is nice and beautiful leading to deliverance, worrying only when the writing pad is hard and the paper not fertile.
"Thus is the extent of my words to you. Clear as if these words are alive. If your calculations are in accordance with the highest knowledge (or the knowledge concerning the Supreme), clearly heaven will be the result, and if asceticism and trikaya (vāk, cit, buddhi) are performed, clearly deliverance will be found. If one holds to that rule, vhatever he has in mind — [namely] the jevel amongst the jewels — it will be there.
"As for people like you, my dear, princes of the best origin and kṣatriyas of the best order, sons of kings of the world, it is best that you strive for the utmost merit and respect from other people.
"It is very difficult to attain the ability to influence [other] people. The more difficult pursuit is to sustain the status of a world-ruler. It is not, because one is stupid and lacks intellect, but because the world turns dangerous when one is careless.
"If there is a courageous king in the opposition, be kind to him, agree with all his efforts. Afterwards apply the dāna (presents) and bheda (soving discontent) strategy. If he is still persistent, then you can apply danda (force).
"Also do not become hot or angry when your enemies grow in number. If there is an enemy who quarrels with another, then support one of them as soon as possible.
"Furthermore the one who is to be appointed as [prime] minister, who will be the assistant of the leader and ruler, should be selected on the basis on his courage and devotion, his knowledge of the scriptures which include the science of physiognomy.
"The conduct of a king should be in accordance with all dignity. The ways of deities should be taken as example by high personalities with feelings of mercy towards the people as guidance, because that is the nature of a king.
"I will go back to my previous words, my dear son. For sure the kingdom will be yours, study and practise [therefore] the guidelines of a ruler. Be firm in the study of the śāsanas (treaties), especially on the knowledge of the Supreme.
"In the future practise the virtue of patience. When the body is very old and fragile, when the bewilderments of the senses have abated, practise regularly the highest non-attachment [to the world]".
Thus ended the words of advice of King Bhīṣmaka. Prince Rukma made his obeisance respectfully before replying: "Even the words of a child should be heard, if they are good. Why should I not accept all the advice of one who should give advice [to me]? (meaning my own father).
"Well, with the exception of your request to abolish my great anger, caused by the insolence of Krəṣṇa, who has thrown insult to my lord. I regard that as the meanest trick amongst the meanest ever conducted by a king, as if there is no-one who can match him in power. He regards everyone as grass, who will be eliminated [if opposing him].
"So, this is my resolve, may it be heard by Your Majesty. May the Moon and Sun-gods, God Dharmma also, be my witness to see, that if Krəṣṇa is not killed by this noble Rukma, and your daughter Rukmiṇī is not returned to our capital city;
"In that case, I will not become king of Kuṇḍina. Your slave will go away. For sure I will not want to see my family and relatives and relations, because it is like dead, if one is insulted and does not revenge it. This body of mine is useless, all his life he will be ridiculed and become a laughingstock.
"The case of the Vallabhas is a great one to me, because they have received happiness, plenty of luxuries, power and success as I do from you, my lord. If a king is in trouble and enemies come to attack, clearly he will perish, but if he has power he will burn [all the enemies] to save his life.
"It is difficult at present to find the best solution. The guidelines for a king say, that he be firm and courageous to successfully protect the country. It is useless for me to know the religious rules and yet be indecisive and in fear. A conscientious person without action is like a jewel [hidden] in the dark.
"In short, my lord, I will take your leave to go to battle. I am happy to die, the more so if I return with victory. May Your Majesty forgive my words and insolence, because the duty of a kṣatriya is not to retreat when the opposition seems to be superior”.
While Prince Rukma was leaving the palace to return home to prepare for battle hastily, the day broke and the sun came up, shining brilliantly. All people after receiving orders, even those from far away regions, had come.
The capital city was chokeful, flooded with people coming and going, on the highway dovn to the plains around the city, which were full with well-armed soldiers. The banners were like clouds, standing close together in rows and rows. All were standing ready waiting for the appearance of the prince.
Then the prince appeared, shining in his battle dress; bow and arrows in his hand, weapons he received as heirloom. The crown had been put on carefully, its tightness adjusted, etc.
His armour was plated with gold and fitted nicely with rubies in the form of a star, studded with many precious stones, which increased his charming good looks. His body was as if showered with light, increasing in lustre.
Then he mounted his chariot quickly, out of fear that he might miss King Krəṣṇa (made him rush). He ordered kings of the neighbouring countries to march out with all their officers. Drums of all kinds were beaten as a sign of departure.
The units of soldiers moved simultaneously and noisily with all sorts of music-instruments played, lead by the drums. The trumpets were blaring, responding to each other and the banners were flying. Regularly the trumpets sounded ta-rara-rāt-ṅek.
The chariots sped avay amazingly swift, the one after the other rattling all the way. The wagons were everywhere surrounded by a number of people; the elephants were trumpetting, the horses neighing, as they were urged to move more speedily. They pushed forward strongly,leaving behind their masters.
The soldiers were far away from the capital city in a short time, as they rushed and rushed, disregarding the difficult roads. They found the traces of the vehicles of the enemy in a certain direction and followed [in pursuit]. The soft soil of ravines and forest were totally destroyed by those countless people.
The prince went in pursuit of King Krəṣṇa, to kill him wherever he met him. Without fear his chariot urged his well-armed soldiers to push forward, because the king of Cedi supported him, together with the king of Magadha and their hosts. That was why the Vrəṣṇis and Andhakas came together to fight side by side.
It was true, that the king of Cedi was worth accounting for, because he was extremely powerful, courageous and heroic. Even the deities were inferior in supernatural powers, by which he could bring all the lands surrounding the mountain Sumeru under his rule. So the king of Cedi became proud of himself and disregarded the power of other people, even though he might know the strength of the Yādava forces and that he would have to face King Baladeva and others as powerful.
That was the reason that the armed forces stopped to prepare their defence lines, except the banners of the soldiers of Prince Rukma which moved around, looking for the sector of King Padmanābha, who on leaving [Kuṇḍina] with drew from sight, so that his place remained unknown, as if disappearing like the smoke of the Khāṇḍava-forest blown by whirling typhoons.
However the king of Cedi stopped his forces, remaining quietly like the stillness of the ocean, distributing the positions of the array as follows: he would be the head in the middle with all units of his guards. King Jarāsandha would be the right wing, because he knew how to act [in that position]. All the heroes were placed in the left wing position, to be the spokes was the one called Dantavakra.
The army of the king of Cedi increased steadily as new arrivals came from behind. Fully packed were the forces of the neighbouring countries [of Cedi] with their horses, elephants and chariots with special decorated upper structures. The glitter of their cūḍāmaṇis shone amazingly like the stars of the milky way. The white umbrellas [of the kings] were so close together, that they looked like white kamurugan flowers.
More and more soldiers went by, looking like the strong current of the river Yamunā, marvellously flowing continuously, increasingly heaped together on the tracks along the tree-less slopes, resembling thousands of packs of swallows, moving forward exactly like ants in transfer to another place. They sounded like packs of crows shouting together roaringly, but beard hardly at all because of the distance.
The Yādava forces slowly retreated in solid columns, not because of fear, but moving around as they were ordered to take positions, since the battlefield consisted of ravines, difficult to cross, and located close to rivers and steep slopes. That was the reason why the armed forces were with drawn, so as not to be hampered by the movements [of the enemy].
Because the plan of King Haladhara, the deputy leader of the Vrəṣṇis was [as follows]: to form units or columns [which could move] like an avalanche of elephant-size boulders, guarded by mobile units on wagons and horses, moving like dangerous high-tide of the sea, as they followed the subtle gloom of the fourth season. They did not look like hands [defensively] covering [the face], but like dragons attacking courageously.
The number of the Yadu host may be enumerated: there we had the most famous Yuyudhāna, Pārtu, and Akrūra, king of Wideha, Svapalka, Vikrānta, Gada and Prasena.
Others were Sunakṣatra, a Yadu hero and Prəthu, Śakradeha, the great kings Bhaṅga, Kārā, Mrədhuka, Vrəsadarbha, Vicitra and others.
The heroes were called Nirdanta, Satyaka, Śaraṇa, Vidhuratha and Krətadharma, and the most powerful Śatadyumna; not to mention the heroic chief officers of the army.
Their battle-cries were loud and repetitious, supported by all kinds of drums and trumpets, mixed with the voice of thousands and thousands of elephants and horses roaring like lions.
Their banners were numerous and of all colours. There were some amazingly clustered together darkening [the sky], like rumbling thick clouds, hovering above like a range of causeways.
Some were curving like a rainbow, others were spreading like flowers shovering down, other red banners were arranged everywhere orderly, looking like mountains aflame.
The units were really well-equiped with ornaments, and the soldiers were powerful and bold, famous amongst the enemies that they were the most accomplished warriors, in fact very appropriate to be appointed as bodyguards.
They were given their positions [in the battle-array]. Others were moving to their appointed positions. Several units were concentrating to form one wing. The battle-array was [soon] established firmly.
The battle-array of King Baladeva and his units, became more aggressive when they found opposition. The battle-array of the king of Cedi likewise was strong and solid without flaws.
The battle started with threats hurled against each other. They looked at each other shouting [insult]. It was not a battle in real terms, [like] attacking, stabbing and chasing each other, but only striking with [verbal] insults.
Then missiles were released in great numbers, falling everywhere heavily, no different from the sound of coconuts smashed at each other. Beng-beng-peng were its sounds penetrating the ears when they flashed by. Mah–sār-teg were the sounds when they fell on the umbrellas of the kings.
The sign for the battle was the shovering of stones which fell everywhere as planned and the attack with arrows was like flying burning coal, which fell like stars with a bang.
There were soldiers hit by missiles on their jaws. They were enraged and wanted to take revenge, but they were too painful and when they retreated, spitting out [blood], they were jeered at by the opposition. Their teeth were jiggling and not firm anymore.
Let us look at those chased and stabbed at, nicely [parrying] though attacked by four opponents. "It is far from an exercise in parrying between you and me” he said, and then struck forcefully.
Priests joined [the battle] acting as messengers, spies, and observers carrying baskets. They mixed [with the soldiers] chasing and running with them. Their courage was praiseworthy but without purpose; far from being hurt, they received more fee.
There were plenty of arrows with feathers, and a lot also with coloured heads flying to every direction. They were thrown aside in all directions as if being swept off by a gigantic banner, swaying [all the time].
There came four or five units of supporting forces, consisting of farmers with old and rotten shields. The iron rims [of their shields] were broken and eaten by rust, but decorated with yellow coconut leaves.
The warriors became more and more intoxicated by the sound of music (instruments), so variatcd were the sounds of their tok-tok. The soldiers, on hearing them were shouting and cheering. Then the leader called for the food-supply attendant.
Thus was the description of those fighting with shields as weapons. They withdrew when they saw lancers supporting their opponents. Some became tired from fighting and out of breath, exactly like people separated from a brawl.
The soldiers without units, who carried weapons, joined in the fight. They were in front, because they were the advance task force and soon they spread all over the field, fighting. The clanging sound of lances clashing against each other was heard continuously. Those armed with shields were beating one another, trying to make a breakthrough.
Thousands and hundreds of thousands came to support [them]‚ filling the battlefield, in the front, at the rear and at the wings. The fighting went on more intensely, wrestling, boxinng, stabbing, throving missiles, striking with creeses and clubs. The battle was like a picture, the warriors were silent, nobody was speaking.
There was a brave soldier who ran amuck attacking everybody in his way. The hair on his shield were cut off and its spokes broken by a club. He was attacked by many opponents with lances, but he was not hurt, as his body was invulnerable. His thigh was pierced but got only a minor wound, but the lance could not be pulled out, as if stuck to it.
The lancers repeated their attack two, three, four times. This time with success, as at last the brave soldier fell face down. What made him fall? His neck was cut off from behind by an angry opponent, and his blood gushed forth like a fountain, spouting out upwards.
The soldiers without units were heroic, their courage was not broken. Calling for successors, they pledged to help orderly. They looked like wild beasts fighting for offering-dishes, refusing to retreat or to flee. Clubs, sticks, books, discs were snatched [from opponents] and pushed away without fear.
Let us tell about those defeated [by them]. Their heads were smashed and fell [on the ground], their mouths closed with a snap on mustaches [of others] and were very difficult to remove; their bodies rolled over the ground, then stood up amazingly, with widespread legs forcefully, as if their heads down to the neck were not severed.
The army of King Sunīti was on the loosing side and started to retreat, like clouds blown away by the wind, slovly moving backwards. They just walked, not runniṅ, like kayu-apu washed away [by flooding water], silently and in closed units. The Yadus did not venture to chase them fiercely, but stopped.
Tbe king of Cedi was seen ready and prepared on his wagon. He swayed his banner to order his guards to move forward, and all of them under the leadership of a group of senior kings, prepared for battle without making a mistake. Like flood, the elephants, horses and wagons rolled down together to crush [the enemy].
They were met by the Yadu forces and clashed stroṅly with each other, which could be clearly likened to mountains of rocks falling at each other, the sound of which rumbled so powerfully that echoed back in the sky. Dark dust whirled up fearfully, the battlefield seemed to be covered with thick smoke.
The wind caused by the supernatural power of heroes fighting on both sides, brought about destruction to the world. The surface of the earth was unsettled, swaying and turning, whilst the ocean was boiling. The sky seemed to be on the, verge of collapse, the peaks of mountains shook to and fro as if going to fall over. The ten directions were in uproar, and the groups of seers and deities were frightened to death.
The sound of the music-instruments added more confusion. The sounds of trumpets, drums and other instruments were mixed up, blended with the sound of clashing swords and battling people. Furthermore the horses were neighing angrily whilst the elephants were trumpetting proudly.
The flanks of the army of the king of Cedi were defeated and fled, their banners ceased to fly, looking like banners of the dead, falling on the ground blown by the wind. The units in the centre made a counterattack fiercely after regrouping themselves for a while, like kuluma fish gettiṅ fresh water, rushing forward to meet it.
Therefore the Yadu forces were halted in their pursuit and suffered numerous casualties and were forced to retreat. Confused they fled and fell on lines in the back, stepping on corpses, but their own friends, marching forward, forced them to turn back.
The battle was raging on as both sides were outstanding and courageous, each side was pushing forward and was pushed back, wounded soldiers fell everywhere. Many times the four divisions of the armed forces marvellously flared up like the water of the ocean [of milk] stirred with a mountain by the groups of [demons], deities and siddhas.
While the battle went on fiercely, both sides pushing and chasing each other, the king of Cedi set his weapon ready; courage and anger raging in his heart. [Meditating on] courage on his side, he proudly gave the command.
Afterwards he held his bow in the middle tightly and tried the tension of the string. The parts of his left arm were already in a straight line with the target, and carefully he drew the string back to his ear.
It took some seconds and suddenly the string seemed so easy to draw, and together with the recitation of a mantra, he released an arrow each in the four directions. The sound of the bow was like that of a big tree collapsing, fearfully sounding like a thunderbolt growling in the dark.
All kinds of arrows, issued in great numbers like white ants, were flying around, heaping up like a roof flying in the sky. The arrows landed in a spray like falling leaves continuously and thickly like rain, yet each of them hit its target.
Other arrows were issuing fire, flaring up the ten directions, flaming dangerously falling like a shower of fire-balls. All the Vrəṣṇis and Andhakas dispersed, their soldiers looking like burning coal. Like ants they were killed in heaps, eradicated.
The Yadu forces were in great grief as they were seriously hurt and smashed. They saw a banner in the back falling over, and never rising back. What was left of wagons was only a wheel on one side, totally destroyed. Elephants were without upper structures and horses ran wildly without saddles.
The music-instruments were thronn and blown away and many of them were lost, parts of the trumpets and gongs were also lost, leaving sounds like hep and hes while carried away by the wind. The bək-bəkans were stepped on and yet afraid to cry "oh mother".
There was a fool giving advice to his fleeing companions: "Please stay put, you will not die if the time has not come. The time of dying is already decreed beforehand based on our karma in former births". Just as he had said these words, he was almost hit by a lance. He jumped up and ran like a rat.
As for the heroic kṣatriyas of the Vrəṣṇis and Andhakas, [they did not flee but] bravely coming together to plan a counter-attack and already they received the order to wait for the instructions of King Karṣaṇa. At last they started rolling like lions together, roaring and smashing everything trying to hold them back.
The kings were accompanying the brother of King Krəṣṇa, whose short lance, club, hammer and hook never failed. Also his iron plough, called Sambartta in turns was attacking the enemy from the hands of King Haladhara.
At this moment the attack of the Yadu forces looked boundless in fierceness. The army of the king of Cedi was repulsed, pushed back and it was fleeing. Confused they were thrown back without knowing in which direction to run. They just ran around and around in fear, like the water of the Ganggā river gustily falling against the side of the mountain.
The kings of the neighbouring countries [of Cedi] who fell in great numbers in battle will be described. They were heaped up together with their attendants lying in every direction, like in sleep. There were some who died lying on their back with their crowns still on [their heads], mixed with numerous officers.
Jarāsandha was commanding one of the wings, standing firmly in position, defending his lines without moving a bit, and no one was fleeing, attacking and receiving counterattacks of discs, and angrily stabbing and being stabbed. He was attacked with all kinds of lances and countered them with lances and arrows.
Both sides released flamiṅ veapons which flashed noisily in the sky. Fabulously ave-inspiriṅ they turned into thunderstorms and bolts. There were some that looked like dragons shoveriṅ dovn fire. From their open muzzle came the sounds ṅak-ṅak like fightiṅ geese.
Not to mention were the countless rocks from the peaks of mountains which came down incessantly; with a heavy thud they fell on the ground. Rrrrt ... discs were flashing one after the other. Kəpuk-pyak-pyak-pyak-pon were the sounds of clashing clubs.
Thus was the battle without equal to be thought of. The three worlds seemed to be destroyed, because of the war, which resembled the battle at the abode of the gods when attacked by Tārakāsura, and when the side of the deities under the leadership of God Kumāra won [the war].
The vultures were everywhere in the sky and in groups in the fields. A lot were dispersed by the battle-cries and when the cries stopped, the vultures came again in throngs. The forests in the region of the battle were filled with dogs which looked like swine as they were bathed in blood flowing like mud.
The kəpuh and capok trees in the middle of the battlefield were uprooted, and looked like bearing fruit in the form of human beings as intestines were windiṅ around [the branches] looking like calulils. Their branches were full of arrows sticking out like the spines of a porcupine, their barks were cut into small pieces by flying discs.
Four, five times the battle went either way fiercely, both sides had thousands and millions of fallen heroes. Continuously blood flowed like flood, red like the juice of red spinach. It looked like the meal of the God of Death, mixed up and messy.
Those fighting in water mixed with blood were beautifully drenched in it. They wanted to jump, but their legs were caught in intestines winding around. Their shields became darker and darker red like wax and the rubies resembled chicken-flees. The hair [of the shields] stuck to them and the white friṅes became red like katirah flowers.
Those fighting on elephants looked handsome when they died. So let us look at the elephants fighting against elephants. They went back and forth, both trunks windiṅ each other pinching and trying to get their opponent fall over. Their tusks were stabbing each other and they fell on their knees looking like picking things up [from the ground].
The officers on horseback were fighting strongly as tbey knew the capability of their horses. They bent their bodies so low, swung their swords and cut off the arms of their opponents. They were seen from the howdah of the elephants and were going to be struck by arrows without noticing it, but tbey jumped together on their horses to come closer.
Then an angry elephant caught a standing man, struck and pushed him away, then held him in its tusk and trunk. After the man was smashed, the elephant swung him round and round, until issuing a sizzling sound like that of a windmill blown by heavy wind.
The army of Cedi was on the loosing side, on all sectors of the battlefield. They were beaten, their casualties were ten times higher than the Yadu side. The cadavers of their elephants were piled up all over the field, like ḍavət dejectedly heaped up to dry in the heat [of the sun].
Then Prince Rukma, while fighting moved towards the position of King Krəṣṇa (Surendrānuja). He lead all the army of Kuṇḍina, from common soldiers up to officers and groups of kings heavily equipped with weapons, under the command of his lieutenants Śrutabāṇa, Dakṣiṇa and Aṅśumān.
Resembliṅ people doing statute labour, they released discs and weapons of all kinds, whilst from the flanks they moved together closing on King Krəṣṇa, who did not pay much attention. He was not troubled to be showered and stormed with all kinds of weapons, since not one of them could hit [him]. He looked like the sun with a ring around shining more beautifully and more brilliantly.
The son of King Bhīṣmaka had already an arrow on his bow and while drawing it, he stood on his battle chariot and moved closer and closer to be dead sure that he would not miss King Krəṣṇa. He became the more angrier when he saw that Princess Rukmiṇī was with King Krəṣṇa. He resembled Rāhu, eager to destroy the moon and the sun, when he saw them together.
He said: "Hey Krəṣṇa, you are extremely wicked, breaking [the code of honour of a] kṣatriya. You are an evil and bad king, who do not deserve to be called king. In the past you have been given good treatment by great people. Clearly they will get treason from an evil man like you, if there is still one who has trust in you.
"You do not fear the abuse of people and to be exposed in the world as a villain. You have unlimited pride to disdain people who treat you well. You do not know, what proper and improper is, as long as you can say that it suits you. Ah! [It is useless] to quarrel with you, evil, debased, wicked and low person. Well, you are far from excellence.
"O, Prince Rukma, talk no more, wait for a while, let me take my turn to speak. I do know about the sorrow I gave you, caused by the force I use to attain Rukmiṇī. The reason is, because it is good for a girl to marry a man whom she really wants to marry. Look therefore I took her by force, and I take full responsibility for all my action, I am not afraid of the consequences.
"If it is a marriage by peasants, it does not need to be discussed, because it is the marriage of common people. If it is a marriage between rich people, then wealth, i.e. jewels, gold and silver should be the dowry. A religious teacher should marry a brahmin girl. however for a man from the kṣatriya caste, the dowry is power and the will to fight courageously.
"My conduct is in accordance with this rule. Why should it be regarded as improper? If you want something very badly, it is better not to leave it, but to use force. Look at the lion, the king of animals. If he wants to eat game or deer, he hunts them. Where do you find a leader of a group who prefers to die than to get food?"
Thus were the words of Janārddana repulsing the [words of] anger of the prince, who brought up his weapon with a head of burning iron, shining brilliantly red. His red eyes seemed to issue fire and smoke, very amazing. Fanned by his breath, the beat of the fire inside his heart came out.
Soaring noisily were the caduśakti arrows released by Prince Rukma towards King Indrānuja (Krəṣṇa). They were highly powerful arrows, sixty-four in number in the form of sharp crest moons coming orderly one after the other. The fire of the arrow-heads flared up high in the sky resembling lightning. Well, well, there was no doubt that [King Krəṣṇa] would be hit, as proven in previous encounters.
The arrows flashed very swiftly and were almost hitting King Krəṣṇa. Thunder and storms boomed like the roar of the ocean, but to no avail. It was foiled by King Kreṣṇa withan arrow that appeared from the concentration of his mind (yoga). The arrows disappeared and came back as rain, and not long afterwards they went off altogether.
King Krəṣṇa was sad, as anger made his heart painful. First he was prepared to be agreeable, but now the prince came, harsh and rude. That was the reason why his mind turned into enmity.
The rules for a king in the scriptures said that there would be no sin in [even] killing a relative, even a brother or sister who had the same behaviour. If they were a manifestation of trouble, they should be eliminated by their own doings.
Thus was what churned in the mind of King Janārddana. Quickly he drew his bow and arrows were released [so swiftly] as never happened before, seventy in number, flashing by in a group, and all of them hit their targets which were smashed beyond anything.
The army of Prince Rukma turned into confusion as there were so many casualties. All their counter-attacks failed, they were tired and did not gain anything. Many of them were wounded, hit by arrows like deer. Suffering from pain, they lost their courage, and took the heel to save their lives.
Those on wagons left their vehicles, also those on horseback fled on foot. Look at those who fell flat on their faces from huge elephants, smashed to pieces like birds falling [on the ground].
The three ministers were useless and powerless. Dakṣiṇa and Śrutabāṇa were thrown back, fleeing away without noticing his attendants, and Aṅśumān turned pale, no lustre any longer.
however the prince stayed put in the battle-field. He did not join the exodus, but stood by, looking at his army fleeing away. His anger exploded and full of revenge he held his bow and placed an arrow on. He was beyond himself in firmness and courage, possessed by heroic pursuit.
Angrily he released countless arrows speedily, soaring through the air like pine forests hit by a thunderstorm. But to no avail. When they came to King Krəṣṇa, they were like white ants falling into the fire.
Thus the attack of the prince was useless. His mind was fierce, because of anger, but he just became tired and weary [from all his actions]. Four or five times his arrow did not achieve result, like the actions of a dwarf [were his], useless and inefficient.
Kiṅ Indrānuja fought in earnest now. Angrily he released powerful divine arrows after pronouncing the appropriate spell and mind-concentration, so that for sure they would be effective and hit their targets unavoidably.
The arrows [released from the bow] of King Krəṣṇa, without error hit the wagon of the prince, turning it into rubble. The upper-structure was smashed by an arrow and the charioteer was killed together with the horses.
The prince fell from his wagon, head down on the ground. His crown was crushed its stones tossed away and lost. Also his bow was broken hit by an arrow. He thought he was near death, there was no way of survival.
Princess Rukmiṇī, seeing her brother in such a condition, was alarmed. Crying loudly, she embraced the legs of King Krəṣṇa, without shame she cried and looked up, tears flowing down the thighs of the king.
Her black hair came loose, stuck in her wet face, increasing her loveliness. Her breath was racing, she wiped (her face) with her kain which became loose and came off altogether. She was shaken, yet able to talk:
"Ah, mylord Krəṣṇa. You are the master of my life. The soul who protect my life is no other than mylord, who I hope still to be the guardian of my existence. All that you wish from me, I will keep in mind and make efforts to follow it.
"However, at this moment, I disagree with your intention, because you are too cruel, you do not have mercy with me, the miserable one. I know that I will not give you satisfaction, but if [your intention to kill my brother] is realized, I may not be angry and cry at the feet of Your Majesty, because he has been irresponsible and wicked.
"Because I came to you, looking for your protection, you find trouble, but your power is great and is expected to be able to shelter the relatives. However now, do nothing that makes me sad. I pray and beg for your mercy, like a branch of sandalwood has mercy on the snake winding around it, by giving it its shade.
"Prince Rukma loved me very much when I was with my father and mother, almost as he loved his own life. Furthermore he is really my brother and there is no one else. Now he will be killed by Your Majesty in front of my eyes. How is it possible, that I will not be sad, and very upset to see it. It is better that I do not see it [at all].
"Ah, my brother Rukma. What have you done now. What a misfortune you have found, as if it is not of this world. Om, my brother, accept your lot. What can I do to eliminate this misfortune? How can I venture to save your life, because you are proven to do wrong deeds.
"Now, I am prepared to save your life without fear of death, but in no way the sword of King Krəṣṇa will not fall on your sister. It is better that I become a substitute for you. That is my intention, because I have great respect for you and in this situation also great pity.
"You have done a lot of things in the past to make me happy when I was in grief In the past you have protected me, you are exactly the cause for my good life. But now I bring you to your fall and make you suffer. There is no way that King Krəṣṇa will save my life. Your fall will make me follow in your death.
"Because, if I stay alive, then I will always feel that I have done nothing to help you. For sure father and mother will not like this, if I ever return to them. All the relatives, why should they not blame me and beat me? Who will be the man who will have mercy on me and where is the place, where I can go [in peace]?
"If I want to go to a distant place in the mountains and stay in a temple at a quiet slope, I do not know how to travel through the jungle and cannot endure hunger and exhaustion. It is better that I die now, my brother, in front of your eyes. Let me be your slave in seven incarnations and not be separated from you."
The heart of the son of Basudeva (Kr̥ṣṇa) became merciful on hearing the lamentations of the princess. He laid down his below and took the princess on bis lap and suddenly embraced her lovingly. His great anger towards Prince Rukma abated, pushed aside by bis love towards his beloved like flaming offerings-fire being extiṅuished by honey poured [on it].
The son of Bhīṣmaka (Rukma) arose, hopeful [for his life] but utterly amazed, because he thought that he was dead and now he found life, though strongly shaken. However he was beaten. He felt very sad and depressed as he felt sorry for his past deeds. Dejectedly he thought about what best he should do now.
Because he said before, that he would not return to his country if Janārddana escaped and if Princess Rukmiṇī was not brought back. These were his words, witnessed by his father. Now he failed, but he did not want to take his words back, after clearly he could not bring them into reality. This was the reason he did not return to Kuṇḍina, but wanted to establish another kingdom.
The King Indrānuja entertained himself, after achieving a great victory. The armed forces of Cedi and Magadha were annihilated entirely by the Yadus. So wherever the king went, there was nothing to fear. Yet he headed for Dvāravatī with the beautiful princess who never left his side.
There in the wagon, they settled down to enjoy the art of kissing. They applied nail-scratchiṅ, petting etc to re-affirm their feelings of love. Only at the end they kept off the deflowering act, because they wanted to have a royal wedding ceremony when they arrived at the palace.
Then [the king] loved his little sister'(Rukmiṇī) very much, whose deeds always attracted affection. He paid plenty of interest in choosing her clothes imitating the ara tree in supplying the sprouts of young leaves. He was very good in tying back her hair-knot which came loose, like the shoots of the gaḍuṅ plant, like groopiṅ into a birdnest, he used to caress her body and to fondle her breasts.
On the other hand, Princess Rukmiṇī was distressed. She seemed to be disturbed by her feelings of great love towards her father, mother and brother. This thought troubled her heart a lot, so that she appeared to resent King Krəṣṇa who wanted to revive her passion. She moved away when he approached her, she did not like to sit together and refused to sit on his lap.
Let us leave them, amusing themselves on their journey. After a while they arrived in Dvāravatī. All the Yadus and Wrəṣṇis hastened to go home as soon as possible.
All the people of Dvāravatī were very proud. They moved like flood water, happy, excited and joyful, because the king had achieved victory and on top of that secured a beautiful wife.
Thw women whether they talked to each other in earnest or not, agreed that the king was extremely lucky indeed. So, they prayed, may they love each other forever and may Princess Rukmiṇī bear children soon.
The day had gone and night bad arrived. The Yadus and Wrəṣṇis became the more excited [than ever], because there were no reasons for doubt or fear. There were only reasons for happiness and enjoyment.
Also the king and the princess enjoyed the celebration of marriage. One in thought, one in body and one in love, not at all differing from the goddess Rati and god Kāma in appearance.
It is impossible to relate everything. So both of them retreated to the bridal chamber. They broke their fasting of love and passion was given free reign. Clearly they seemed to give away their intention to make asceticism.
The king was an expert in striviṅ for excellence, which he had been doiṅ since a long time in the past. In the bedroom he was absorbed in all activities, but like a blind, be often made mistakes.
Time passed. Their marriage was a success, but let us not talk about it. Her yearning towards her parents was superseded by love towards her husband. Also she could preoccupy herself with the beauty of the ornaments of the capital city, as everything was fabulous like the beauty of the palaces of the gods.
There was a royal palace beautifully built by a demi-god architect at an isolated spot. It was built for the quarters of the ladies and richly ornamented with carvings. There were many golden statues, newly delivered. The shoots of the katirah creepers on the eves were growing strongly reaching the rafters of the roof.
That was the place where the king and the princess lived in harmony, enjoying their love together and sharing their passion of consummation, satisfying the need of the senses in their worship of the god of love. All the instructions contained in the book Pradyumnagama were remembered and brought into practice.
In fact, why should they not be in love with each other, since they have the same good looks? They matched each other. All the emotional affairs of love that gave the marriage a sour taste never arose, both were very keen to perform everything suitable under the cover of blankets. Watching the girl sweating, the heart of the king seemed to melt.
Who would not be delighted to see them so blitheful in their marriage. They were both gorgeous and in full bloom like a cool wash with fragrant sandalwood [ointment]. They were attached to each other like drink-water with syrup. They were always together as if of one soul like the container with the sacred sugar.
It is impossible to relate all what they did to share their harmonious life together. Once they went to the garden for a walk together joyfully. They went everywhere, to quiet places, walking or playing hide and seek or looking for a pandanus flower to lead them towards nice occupations in the resthouse.
Also everything in the little forest was full of charm. From a hole in a hill, water flowed down and became a creek. On both sides stones and sand were marvellously arranged. Its sands were fragrant, the surabhi flowers gave it to them as a means to welcome [the king and the princess].
The flowing water of the river looked pure like a virgin, kuluma fishes were swimming at the side as quick as the mind. The slugs were leading each other, never misunderstanding each other, though they were cowered with red shells. They moved very slowly as if they were just stretching [their body].
There was a nice offerings-house with tall fountains and clear water, located beside a pond which was like a lake full of all kinds of flowers. The branches of the aśokas and punnāgas were rubbing and touching each other, the roots were stuck so closely resembling people embracing each other passionately.
The creeping pandanus on the sides of the lake looked beautiful, the leaf-scars on its trunk seemed to look as if half of its waist-hand was taken off. There were two flowers laying on each side of a rock, its beauty gave rise to yearning as they resembled the calf of legs of [a girl] sitting on the lap [of her lover].
So the garden was like a maru (a co-wife of the king) to the princess. The bees were always buzzing like [the maru] was crying and sobbing. A caterpillar was hanging on to the eve, unseen, because nobody was interested in it. The ants in the pond were pitiful, because they fell in the hole of crocodiles.
At the east-side there was a little pavillion with a couch, intentionally built for quietness and isolation. The handul flowers were thickly and widely spread all over the footpath. The tañjuṅ tree at the yard was imposing and nicely ringed with a wall, its flowers fell on the ground arousing passion in the hearts of those seeking [repose].
Let us not describe [any longer] the charm of the little forest when the king and the princess enjoyed themselves there, [because] it is impossible to portray. Let us rather return to King Krəṣṇa and the princess. Their marriage was like the union of their eager souls, like arddhanāriśvara (the union of Śiva and Pārvatī). The husband loved his wife very much, and the princess was extremely devoted and loving to her husband.
So it was established that the princess be known as Queen Rukmiṇī throughout the world. The children of the [former] princess were many, ten sons, first amoṅst them were as follows: Pradyumna, Cārudeśna, Cārudeha, Sucāru, Sudeśna. Then followed Susena who was born before Cārugupta.
The others were Cārudevaka, followed by Śaraṇya. Then followed the handsome Cāruvinda. In turn Bhadracāru was born. Princess Cāruvati was the youngest, happily staying with a nanny, who had been nursing her since childhood through to maturity.
There were other wives of King Krəṣṇa, ten thousand in number, all exceedingly beautiful in appearance and conduct. Kālindī and Mitravindā were the most important ones in the harem, followed by Satyā, Nagnājitā, Sunandā, Jāmbavatī, all not inferior in charm and refinement. Then Satrajitā, the favourite one, and the popular one was Satyabhāmā.
Then the goddess śrī, followed by another 16000 wives. Although they came from the common people, serving the king. The world was known to be prosperous, thriving and peaceful during the reign of King Krəṣṇa. Evil people were decreasing in number. The situation in the world was as well as in heaven.
Thus was the result of Mpu Triguṇa by composing a story called 'The blissful story of King Krəṣṇa and the Princess’, which was like a japa (prayer) or mantra (formula) for success. A king would always save and expand [his might and glory].
The most poverful King Erlaṅghya was known in the past as an excellent king, nobody else than Mpu Kaṇva was his saliṅsiṅan. At present king Varṣajaya, may he forgive the foolish one, has as his saliṅsiṅan the famous well-respcected and prominent Mpu Triguṇa.
Edited by Soewito Santoso (1986). Acquistion of digital data through OCR by Arlo Griffiths (2018). Manual cleaning and structuring by Eko Bastiawan (2023–2025). Transformation to TEI format by Axelle Janiak (2025). Further editing by Arlo Griffiths.