Nagananda (Boyd 1872)/Preface

by Edward Byles Cowell

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PREFACE.

The Nágánanda, the sister-play to the Ratnávalí, was edited in Calcutta in 1864, by an old student of the Sanskrit College, Mádhava Chandra Ghosha. MS. copies of it are rather scarce, and Professor Wilson does not mention it in his notices of untranslated plays at the end of the "Hindu Drama." By Dr Hall’s assistance, however, I procured two copies from the North-west, and these, with one or two MSS. from Bengal, enabled the editor to print an accurate text. Mr Boyd, a Cambridge pupil of mine, has now prepared an English translation; and I have been asked, by way of preface, to give some account of the date and authorship of the book.

The play is several times quoted, like the Ratnávalí, in the Sáhitya-darpana (pp. 89, 184, 189, and 249), and in the Daśa-rúpa (pp. 64, 65, 74, 178).^[1] Dhananjaya, the author of the Daśa-rúpa, flourished at the court of King Munja; and as no other sovereign of that name occurs in any known list of kings, this is no doubt the uncle and predecessor of Bhoja of Dhárá. We know, from a date given in a Jaina poem (Colebrooke, Essays, II. 53), that Munja was reigning A.D. 993. Dhananjaya’s date is also confirmed by the fact that Hemachandra, who lived A.D. 1174, quotes the Daśa-rúpa, in his Commentary on his own Abhidhána-chintámani, which proves that the author was then of sufficient antiquity to be taken as an authority in a grammarian's work. The Ratnávalí is also quoted in the Saraswatí-kanthábharana, which is ascribed to King Bhoja, who reigned in the beginning of the eleventh century. The Ratnávalí, therefore, and the Nágánanda, and the King Śrí Harsha Deva, who is mentioned as their author, must be placed in an earlier period than that of Bhoja or his uncle Munja. This at once shows that Wilson’s conjecture is untenable, that the Śrí Harsha of the Ratnávalí could have been the Harsha Deva of Cashmir, who reigned from A.D. 1113 to 1125.

Dr Hall has given some good reasons for his adjudication of the Ratnávalí to the poet Bána. He was fortunate enough to obtain three MSS. of Bána's poem, the Harsha-charitra (alluded to in the Sáhitya-darpana, p. 210), and in it he found the well-known verse beginning dwípa'd, anyasmád api, with which the first act of the Ratnávalí opens. It is hardly likely that any one but the author himself would have been guilty of the plagiarism. It is true that the author of the Kávya-prakáśa, in his enumeration of the advantages of poetry, after mentioning Kálidása as an instance of its procuring fame, brings forward, as an instance of its procuring wealth, Dhávaka in his relation with King Śrí Harsha; and most of his commentators add that this poet composed the Ratnávalí under that king's name. Dr Hall, however, has shown that one commentator reads Bána instead of Dhávaka; and I need hardly add that these oral traditions, like those current about Kálidása, Vararuchi, and Chaura, are of but little historical value. The author of the Sáhitya Sára improves upon his predecessors by relating that Dhávaka was excessively poor, in spite of the learning which he had obtained by the virtue of a certain Mantra; at last, however, he composed the Naishadhíya, in one hundred cantos, and on showing it to King Śrí Harsha, received a large jágír as his reward.^[2] But the Naishadhíya, as will be seen in the sequel, belongs to a different Śrí Harsha. The story no doubt has a certain foundation of truth, but its exact details, as in all popular legends, waver and dissolve into mist directly we touch them.

The Ratnávalí and the Nágánanda would at first sight seem to belong to the same author; half the prologue is the same in each, as also the stanza where the manager says that Śrí Harsha is a clever poet, and the subject of the play attractive; but there is little similarity in the plays themselves. Of course their subjects are very different, and we might expect to find even the same author assuming different styles when treating an heroic legend like the Nágánanda, and a genteel comedy of domestic manners like the Ratnávalí. But the difference in the religion of the two plays is a strong argument against identity of authorship; and I can hardly believe that the same poet could have written the invocations to Buddha and to Śiva, though I hope to be able to show that the same king may have put them forth under his name. If I might be allowed to venture a conjecture amidst such uncertainty, I should claim (with Dr Hall) the Ratnávalí for Bána, the well-known author of the Kádambarí; but I should be inclined to attribute the Buddhist play to the Dhávaka mentioned in the Kávya-prakáśa. It is true that not a solitary fragment of poetry is attributed to an author of that name. "About a dozen unprinted collections, in which some five hundred names of authors are adduced, have been diligently explored in quest of Dhávaka, but without success.”^[3] But Brahmanical memory might easily drop a Buddhist poet, or retain only a confused idea of his works. In this way the brief legend preserved in the Kávya-prakáśa may be light as to the poet's name, but the commentators may be wrong in their mention of the Ratnávalí instead of the Nágánanda.

Dr Hall has thrown considerable light on the time when Bána and the king who patronised him flourished, by his discovery of the Harsha-charitra. In this poem Bána celebrates the family and reign of his patron Harsha or Harsha-vardhana, and the history agrees so remarkably with that given in Hiouen Thsang of Harsha-vardhana, or Śíladitya,^[4] the King of Kanouj, in the first half of the seventh century, that we can hardly feel any doubt as to their being the same person.

Now Hiouen Thsang’s account of the court of Kanouj may throw some light on these dramas. Whether they were really written by the same poet or not, they profess to be the composition of the same king; and the similarity of much of the prologue, and the identity of one of the verses, give an external appearance of identity of authorship in spite of the difference in the style; and this may have been part of the deception practised on the audience. Bána may have afterwards inserted a verse from the Ratnávalí in his unfinished Harsha-charitra, as a tacit assertion of his claim to the authorship of that work, just as Sostratus is said to have engraved his own name beneath the royal inscription on the Pharos. Still the difficulty remains as to the Hindu and Buddhist character of the plays; and I think this is much better explained by the character of the king than by assuming such an almost unparalleled versatility of faith in a poet.

Hiouen Thsang is loud in his praises of Harsha-vardhana's devotion to Buddhism; but surely his own narrative is sufficient to warn us against taking these eulogies too literally. The king may have built the hundreds of stúpas along the Ganges, he may have erected the almshouses for the poor, and the resting-places for pilgrims; and there can be no doubt that he favoured the Buddhist faith, and presided at their assemblies, and honoured their holy men. But in the descriptions of the two great convocations, at which Hiouen Thsang was present, we can see that the king was by no means the thorough Buddhist which we might have expected. In the first, twenty tributary princes take a part, and each brings with him the most distinguished Buddhist and Brahman doctors in his realm, and both parties are welcomed with the same hospitality; and though we only read of the homage paid to a golden statue of Buddha, we can hardly believe that, with all these Brahman guests invited, there was no other ceremony. But in the second convocation, which is described in Hiouen Thsang's life by his disciples, we have a fuller account. This was held at Prayága, at the confluence of the Jumna and Ganges; eighteen kings were present, and five hundred thousand monks and laymen. The first day they installed the statue of Buddha, the second day the statue of the Sun, and the third day that of Maheśwara, so that the king's official patronage was shared by the Brahmans even more than by the Buddhists. Similarly at the distributions of alms, we read that on the fourth day the king distributed his bounty to twenty thousand Buddhist ascetics; but we read immediately afterwards, that similar distributions were made to the Brahmans and other heretics, and these lasted respectively twenty and ten days; and last of all, the nirgranthas, or nuked mendicants (who were especially disliked by the Buddhists, cf. Burnouf, Introd., p. 312), came in for their share, for ten days. Now this narrative seems to reveal a state of things which would completely account for these two plays. Hiouen Thsang expressly says of the kingdom of Kanouj, that half the inhabitants held "the true doctrine," and half were attached to "error;" and no doubt a similar division existed to a greater or less extent in each of the subject kingdoms. We have only to suppose some such convocation at Kanouj as these which he has described; and what more natural than that the tributary princes, whom the manager mentions in the prologue, should, on the day of the Buddhist ceremonies, witness the Nágánanda, with its invocatory stanzas to Jina, and, on the day of installing the image of Maheśwara, should witness the Ratnávalí, with its opening Nándís to Śiva? The Málátí-mádhava of Bhavabhúti (who flourished at Kanouj about A.D. 720) presents the same toleration of the two rival religions; the play is Hindu, and the Nándí is addressed to Śiva, but a female Buddhist ascetic, with one of her disciples, is a leading character; she is the nurse of the heroine, and the confidante of her father the minister, in his desire to marry his daughter to the son of an old friend, and Mádhava, the young hero, studies logic in Buddhist schools.^[5]

There can be no doubt, I think, that the King Śrí Harsha Deva of our two plays is a different person from the Śrí Harsha who wrote the Naishadha and the Khandana-Khanda-Khádya, as the latter, in the closing verses of both works, speaks of himself as the dependant of the king of Kanouj, and boasts of the allowance of betel granted him at the court. His age is uncertain. Bábú Rájendra lál Mitra (B.A.S. Journ. 1864) has conjectured that he may have been the Śrí Harsha, who, according to tradition, was one of the five Kanouj Brahmans who were invited into Bengal by Ádi Śúr, in the tenth century. His chief arguments are that the author of the Naishadha names among his works a "description of the sea," and "a history of the kings of Bengal." But I find, from a notice in the first number of the "Indian Antiquary," that Dr Bühler of Bombay has recently fixed his date in the twelfth century.

The story of the Nágánanda is no doubt a Buddhist legend. It is found twice in the Kathá-sarit-ságara, in which are incorporated so many legends of Buddhist origin. In chapter xxii., we have a version which gives the latter part of the story as it is told in the two last acts, but the earlier acts are only alluded to; but in chapter xc., in the Vetála book, we have a second version, which follows the whole play very closely. Thus Malayavatí's singing at the temple is described as in the first act; the love-scenes of the second are also imitated, and we have the same sentiment as in the fourth, where Jímútaváhana wonders that the King of Snakes, with all his thousand mouths, had not even one wherewith to offer himself as a victim to save his subjects. In śl. 197, we have evidently an allusion to the name of the play,—the bones of the dead snakes are brought to life again, and it is said,

"Te 'pi sarve samuttasthus tad-varámrita-jívitáh ;
Surair Nágair muni-ganaih sánandair militair atha
Sa loka-tritayábhikhyám babhára Malayáchalah."

Mr Boyd has pointed out in his notes the allusions in the play to Buddhist doctrines. Professor Wilson remarks, in the Introduction to his translation of the Mrichchhakatikká, "Many centuries have elapsed since Hindu writers were acquainted with the Buddhists in their genuine characters; their tenets are preserved in philosophical treatises with something like accuracy, but any attempt to describe their persons and practices invariably confounds them with the Jainas;" and this very confusion occurs in the Mudrá-rákshasa, which he attributes to the twelfth century. But the present drama is correct in its allusions, which may be another argument in favour of the comparatively early date which I have advocated.

The two last acts are in the true style of Buddhist invention; but I do not remember to have seen any direct reference to Jímútaváhana in any Buddhist legend. Burnouf mentions (Introd., p. 620) that, though the gośírsha sandal is frequently alluded to in Buddhist books, he had only found one allusion to the chandana of Malaya. This occurred in a legend of the Suvarna-prabhása, which relates how a prince gave his body to feed a hungry tigress. But there is a distinct reference to some such legend as that of our drama, in the second Nepalese Buddhist tract translated by Wilson, in the 16th vol. of the "Asiatic Researches." We read there, "May the holy Tírtha be propitious to you, where the Nága obtained rest from Társkshya (Garuda)." This is explained by the Nepalese as referring to a local shrine called Gokarna, but it no doubt originally referred to the far more celebrated Gokarna of Malabar. The Nágas play an important part in many Buddhist legends (as, for instance, in that of Sangha-rakshita); and Mr Fergusson has shown that they are introduced in the Buddhist sculptures at Sanchi and Amaravati, and in the latter as objects of worship. The description of the Nágas in the fifth act, with their human forms, but scaly skins and three hoods, singularly agrees with some of the drawings in his book.

The appearance of the goddess Gaurí is a curious feature of the drama, and seems to point to that gradual mixture of Buddhist with Śaiva notions, which we find fully developed int he Tantras of Nepal. There female Śaiva deities, such as Durgá, Mahákálí, &c., are continually invoked to grant protection to the Buddhist worshipper. Wilson supposes that the Tantras were introduced into Nepal between the seventh and twelfth centuries, but Burnouf has pointed out some traces of Śaiva influence even in the "Lotus de la bonne Loi," and other "developed Sútras." E. B. Cowell.

 

 

⁠"Wohlwollen und Erbarmen, oder genauer allgemeine Wesens-
liebe ist der positive Kern der buddhietischen Moral."

Koeppen.

 

1. I do not distinguish between the text of the Daśa-rúpa and the Commentary, as I feel sure that if Dhananjaya, the son of Vishnu, the author of the one, was not the same person as Dhanika, the son of Vishnu, the author of the other, they were at any rate brothers, and so the chronological value of the two remains unaltered. There is no hint given of any difference of authorship, and the two works read everywhere as if they were from the same pen, like the text and commentary of the Sáhitya-darpana. I may, however, add, that Dhanika is quoted by name in the Sáhitya-darpana, p. 118 (cf. Daśa-rúpa, p. 171).
2. The author adds as his authority—iti vriddhair upákhyáyate, "thus it is related by the elders."
3. Dr Hall's Preface to Vásavadattá, p. 17. Cf. B.A.S. Journ. 1862.
4. Julien's “ Voyages des Pèlerins Bouddhistes,” vol. ii. 247 ff.
5. We know that the Buddhists paid great attention to the study of logic, from the frequent references in Hiouen Thsang to hetu-vidyá, "the science of reasons." In a passage which I have quoted from the Nyáya-várttika-tátparya-tíká, in the preface to my translation of the Kusumánjali, Váchaspati-miśra states that the Nyáya-śástra was originally delivered by Akshapáda, or Gotama, and completed by Pakshila-swámin, and that Uddyotakara compiled his Várttika, or "Annotations," in order to clear away the erroneous interpretations of Ding-nága and others. Ding-nága was a celebrated Buddhist teacher, and his logical works are still extant, see Prof. Weber's Note, Zeitschrift d. Morgenl. Gesellschaft, xxii. 727.