Nagananda (Boyd 1872)/Act 5
ACT V.
Then enters a Doorkeeper.
Doorkeeper.
Through affection, one fears danger to a beloved object, even if he be only gone into the garden of his own house; how much more, when placed in the midst of an awful forest, whose mighty dangers are well known. The mighty king Viśvávasu sits in sorrow, saying to himself, "Jímútaváhana, who is gone to see the ocean's shore, stops a long time;" and he has given me these orders—"Since, O Sunanda! I have heard that my son-in-law, Jímútaváhana, has gone to the district rendered terrible by the proximity of Garuda, I am fearful for him. Go, then, and ascertain quickly whether he has returned to his own house or not." So I am now going thither. (Walking about, and looking before him.) Here is the royal sage, Jímútaketu, Jímútaváhana's father, standing in the compound of his hut, respectfully attended by his wife and the king's daughter. See! Jímútaketu has a splendour like the ocean, wearing as he does two linen garments, with ripples tremulous as waves and white as the ocean's foam, and adorned by his queen, as the ocean is by the Ganges, each alike possessed of great holiness, and abundant in maternal streams; and at their side shines Malayavatí, like the ocean’s shore. I will go up to them.
Then enters King Jímútaketu, with his wife and
daughter-in-law.
King.
I have enjoyed all the pleasures of youth, and held sway in a kingdom full of glory; I have steadily exercised devotion; my son is of great renown, and my daughter-in-law here is of fitting parentage; now that all my desires are fulfilled, should I not contemplate death?
Doorkeeper (coming up suddenly).
—Of Jímútaváhana—
King (stopping his ears).
Cease! An ill-omen![1]
Queen.
May this ill-omen be averted!
Malayavatí.
This bad omen causes my heart to palpitate.
King
(starting as though he felt a throbbing of the left eye).
Good sir, what of Jímútaváhana?
Doorkeeper.
I am sent to you by king Visvávasu to learn tidings of Jímútaváhana.
King.
Is not my child there with him?
Queen (sorrowfully).
O king! if he is not there, where can my boy be gone?
King.
Assuredly he will be gone somewhere for our benefit.
Malayavatí (with grief, to herself).
I dread something very different, from the non-appearance of my husband.
Doorkeeper.
Give your orders. What message am I to take my lord?
King
(starting as though he felt a throbbing of the left eye).
I am perfectly bewildered in my mind with the thought that Jímútaváhana delays so long. Why do you keep throbbing, O left eye, again and again, indicating some evil as about to happen? Base that you are, yonder sun shall stop your throbbings. (Looking up.) Yonder bright thousand-rayed one, sole eye of the three worlds, shall soon bring to light the happiness of Jímútaváhana. (Looking astonished.) What is this that has suddenly fallen in front of me from the sky? as it were a star, loosened by a portentous wind, shooting forth red streaks, bright as rays, and giving excessive pain to the eye of the beholder. How is this? It has fallen at my very feet. (All look at it.) Alas! it is a crest-jewel, with moist flesh adhering to it! Whose can it be!
Queen (in a tone of distress).
O king! it is the crest-jewel of my poor boy.
Malayavatí.
O mother! say not so.
Doorkeeper.
O king! do not distress yourself through ignorance of facts. In this place many crest-jewels of the chiefs of the Nágas, who are devoured by Garuda, fall torn off by his beak and claws.
King.
O queen! there is some reason in what he says. I hope that it may prove so!
Queen.
O Sunanda! assuredly by this time my son will have arrived at his father-in-law’s house from that shore. Go, then, and ascertain for us quickly.
Doorkeeper.
As the queen orders.
King.
O queen! would that it might prove to he the crest of a Nága.
Then enters Śankhachúda, clad in red garments.
Śankhachúda (shedding tears).
After hastily paying my respects at the shrine of Gokarna, on the ocean’s shore, I am again come to this slaughter-house of the Nágas. But Garuda has taken that Vidyádhara, after tearing open his breast with his beak and claws, and is flown up towards heaven. (Sobbing.) Alas! Thou excessively magnanimous and affectionate one! Alas! My only true friend, though indeed thou hadst no cause to be so! Alas! Thou that sufferest for another's sake, whither art thou gone? Give me an answer. Alas! Base Śankhachúda, thou art utterly undone, since thou hast not obtained the merit of saving the Nágas, even for one day, nor even the praiseworthiness arising from obedience to thy lord's commands. Thou art to be pitied, since thou hast been saved at the expense of another, who gave up his life for thine. Woe! Woe! How thou hast been deceived! How thou hast been deceived! This being the state of things, I will not live to be made a laughing-stock, but will at once endeavour to follow him. (Walking about, and looking intently on the ground.) I proceed, full of desire to see Garuda, tracking carefully this line of blood, which, through its purple hue, is hard to be traced on this rock, which is variegated with minerals, and rendered obscure by the thick trees. At first the track is broad, as if from the sudden gush, and then the drops become clotted, and at wider intervals; next, a few drops are seen, scattered among the stones in a broken line, and then they are full of insects on the level ground.
Queen (with alarm).
O king! this man, coming hither hastily, with his face flushed, appears troubled, and fills my heart with alarm. Let us ascertain who he is.
King.
As the queen says. (Listening; with joy, and smiling.) O queen! cease from sorrow. Assuredly this crest-jewel must be his, let fall on this spot by some bird, who snatched it from his head, thinking from its colour that it was a piece of flesh.
Queen (joyfully, embracing Malayavatí).
O thou saved from widowhood, be calm. Such a form as this was not made to suffer the pains of widowhood.
Malayavatí (with joy).
O mother! it must be then through the efficacy of thy blessing.
King (to Śankhachúda).
My child, what is the matter?
Śankhachúda.
My throat being obstructed with tears through the excess of my grief, I am totally unable to tell you.
King.
My son, tell me thy sorrow, that it may become more endurable from participation. At present it is intolerable, while shut up in thine own heart.
Śankhachúda.
Hear it, then. I am a Nága, Śankhachúda by name. I was sent by Vásuki, as a meal for Garuda. But why waste time in words? Even as we talk, perhaps these tracks of drops of blood mingled with dust are disappearing. I will therefore tell it in a breath. By a certain Vidyádhara, whose mind was full of compassion, my life has been preserved. He has given himself up to Garuda.
King.
Who else would thus undergo calamity for another? My child, you might as well have said at once, "By Jímútaváhana!" Alas! I am undone, ill-fated man that I am.
Queen.
Alas! my child, how could you do this?
Malayavatí.
How true has my foreboding proved!
Śankhachúda (with tears).
Surely these must be the parents of that magnanimous one, otherwise they would not be brought into this condition by my evil tidings. But what else should issue from the mouth of a venomous serpent, except poison? Assuredly, Śankhachúda has worthily repaid his benefactor! In what way, now, shall I put an end to myself? But I must first revive these two. Revive, my father! Cheer up, O mother!
Queen.
Stand up, my child. Do not weep. Shall we live without Jímútaváhana? Cheer up, then.
Malayavatí (recovering).
O husband! where shall I see you again?
King.
Alas! O my child, who knew so well how to perform the duty of honouring thy father's feet, even in another world the practice of good behaviour is not forgotten by thee, since thou hast dropped thy crest-jewel at my feet. (Takes up the crest-jewel.) Alas! my child, is it only in this way that I can now behold thee? (Puts it to his breast.) Alas! Alas! O thou, whose head was continually bowed at my feet in constant devotion, thy crest-jewel, polished by their contact as by a touchstone, was never guilty of injuring any one; why, then, does it now rudely pierce my breast?
Queen.
Alas! my son Jímútaváhana, whose only pleasure was in obedience to thy father, how could'st thou leave him, and go to enjoy the delights of heaven?
King (with tears).
O queen! can we live without Jímútaváhana, that you talk thus?
Malayavatí
(falling at his feet, and clasping her hands).
Give me the crest-jewel, as a memorial of my husband, that, wearing it in my bosom, I may mount the funeral pile, and quench my burning sorrows in the fire.
King.
O devoted one! why do you thus trouble me? Is not this the fixed determination of us all?
Queen.
O King, why do we then delay?
King.
There is no reason. But one, who has always maintained a sacred fire, obtains purification from no other. Therefore, we will fetch fire from the sacred fire-cell, and burn ourselves.[2]
Śankhachúda (to himself).
Alas! for the sake of me, a single individual, this whole family of Vidyádharas is utterly destroyed. I will see what can be done. (Aloud.) O father, not without due deliberation should such a rash purpose be carried out. The sportings of destiny demand thought. Perhaps, when he finds that he is not a Nága, the enemy of the Nágas will let him go again. Let us then follow Garuda in this direction.
Queen.
It will assuredly be by the special favour of the gods if we look on the face of our son, yet living.
Malayavatí (to herself).
Most assuredly I, ill-fated that I am, can hardly look for such a blessing.
King.
O child, may this speech[3] of thine prove true! Still it is fitting that we should take the fires with us, as we follow. Do you, then, follow the track; and we will come as soon as we have brought the fire from the fire-cell.
Śankhachúda.
I will now follow Garuda. (Looking in front.) Yonder, afar off, I see the enemy of the Nágas, on a pinnacle of Malaya, making new gulleys in the mountain-side, as he rubs his gory beak. The woods around are all uprooted and burnt by the streaks of flaming fire from his eyes, and the ground is hollowed round him by his dreadful adamantine claws.
Then enters Garuda, seated on a rock, with the hero
lying in front of him.
Garuda.
Never since my birth has so wonderful a thing been seen by me in my feasts on the lords of the Nágas! Not only is this hero unterrified, but he even appears almost delighted. There is no lassitude seen in him, though most of his blood is drunk up. His face, through its heroic endurance, even when he is suffering the pangs from the tearing of his flesh, seems serene as in ecstacy. Every limb, which is not actually destroyed, bristles with rapture. His glance falls on me, whilst doing him an injury, as though I were doing him a favour. Hence, by his heroism, my curiosity is excited. I will not eat him. I will ask who he is.
Jímútaváhana.
There is yet flesh in my body, whose blood pours forth from every vein; and you, O magnanimous one, do not seem satiated. Why, then, O Garuda, do you stop eating?
Garuda (to himself).
Wonder of wonders! How! Even in this state does he still speak thus stoutly! (Aloud.) This heroism of thine seems to call back the heart's blood that has been poured out by my beak. I wish, then, to hear who thou art.
Jímútaváhana.
It is not fit that you should hear, while tormented by hunger. Satiate yourself, then, with my flesh and blood.
Śankhachúda (coming up in haste).
O Garuda, not indeed, not indeed should this cruelty be done. This is no Nága. Let him go. Eat me. I am sent by Vásuki for thy food.
Jímútaváhana (on seeing Śankhachúda).
Alas! my desire has become fruitless through the arrival of Śankhachúda.
Garúda (looking at them both).
Both of you wear the distinctive badge of victims. Which is really the Nága I know not.
Śankhachúda.
The error is a likely one, forsooth. Not to mention the mark of the Swastika[4] on the breast, are there not the scales on my body? Do you not count my two tongues as I speak? Nor see these three hoods of mine, the compressed wind hissing through them in my insupportable anguish? While the brightness of my gems is distorted by the thick smoke from the fire of my direful poison.
Garúda (looking at both, and noticing the hood
of Śankhachúda).
Who, then, is this that I have destroyed?
Śankhachúda.
It is Jímútaváhana, the ornament of the race of Vidyádharas. How was this done by thee, O merciless one?
Garúda (to himself).
Ah! How, indeed, was it done? This, then, is that Jímútaváhana, prince of the Vidyádharas, whose fame I have repeatedly heard sung by the hosts of bards who traverse Lokáloka,[5] sung on the slopes of Meru, in the caves of Mandara, on the table-land of Himavat, on mount Mahendra, on the peaks of Kailása, even on these heights of Malaya, and in the various caverns of the mountains that bound the world. Of a truth, I am plunged in a vast quagmire of iniquity!
Jímútaváhana.
O lord of snakes, why art thou thus troubled?
Śankhachúda.
Is it not a time for excessive trouble? If my body were preserved from Garuda by the sacrifice of thine, verily it were right that thou shouldst hurl me to a depth lower than the deepest hell.
Garuda.
Alas! alas! His own body has been of his own accord presented for my food by this noble-minded one, through pity, to save the life of a Nága, who had fallen within the reach of my voracity. What a terrible sin then have I committed! In a word, this is a "Bodhi-sattwa,"[6] whom I have slain. I see no way of expiating my sin, except by entering the fire. Where then shall I find fire? (Looking round.) Ah! Here come some with fire. I will wait till they arrive.
Śankhachúda.
O prince, your parents are come.
Jímútaváhana (with agitation).
O Śankhachúda, do you sit down, and conceal my body with my upper garment. Otherwise, perhaps, my mother might die, if she suddenly saw me in this state.
[Śankhachúda takes up the garment fallen
Then enters King Jímútaketu, with his wife and
daughter-in-law.
King (sorrowfully).
Alas! son Jímútaváhana, whence came this exalted degree of compassion—"Another is as one’s-self?" How was it that the thought did not occur to you—"Are many to be saved, or one?" For, by giving up your life to save a Nága from Garuda, yourself, your parents, your wife, yea the whole family is destroyed.
Queen (addressing Malayavatí).
O daughter, desist. You will extinguish the fire with your incessant tears.
King.
Alas! my son Jímútaváhana!
Garuda (on hearing this).
He says—"Alas! my son Jímútaváhana!" This then is doubtless his father. How can I burn myself in this fire? I am ashamed to appear before them after slaying their son. Yet why should I be troubled about a fire? Am not I on the ocean's brink? I will cast myself into the submarine fire,[7] terrible as the destined consumer of the world at the end of a "kalpa," having kindled it by the wind of my own wings, fiercer than any supernatural blast, which will make the flames flicker like the tips of the tongue of Death, when enjoying the relish of licking up the three worlds, and which span the sea, and reach even to threaten the sun's domain.
Jímútaváhana.
O king of birds, away with this resolve! This would be no expiation for your sin.
Garuda (falling on his knees, and putting his
hands together).
O magnanimous one, tell me then what expiation is there?
Jímútaváhana.
Wait a moment. My parents are come. I will first pay my respects to them.
Garuda.
Do so.
King (with joy, having seen him).
O queen, fortune favours you! Here is our son Jímútaváhana, not only alive, but respectfully waited on by Garuda, with his hands folded like a disciple.
Queen.
O mighty king, my desires are all accomplished. I shall see his face, and surely his body must be uninjured.
Malayavatí.
Even though I see my husband, I cannot believe it. It is too dear to be true!
King (going up).
Come, my child, embrace me.
[Jímútaváhana wishing to rise, the garment
Śankhachúda.
O prince, revive, revive!
King.
Alas! my child, having seen me, are you gone without an embrace?
Queen.
Alas! my child, do you not greet me with a single word?
Malayavatí.
Alas! my husband, are not even your parents worthy of a glance?
Śankhachúda (to himself).
O villain Śankhachúda, why did you not perish, whilst yet unborn? Seeing that moment by moment you endure pangs worse than death itself?
Garuda.
All this is caused by my inconsiderate action. Base wretch that I am! But I will do what I can. (Fanning with his wings.) O noble one, revive, revive!
Jímútaváhana (recovering).
O Śankhachúda, revive my parents.
Śankhachúda.
O father, recover! O mother, revive!
Queen.
O son, does that villain Death carry you off in our very sight?
King.
O queen, speak not so inauspiciously. The long-lived one[8] yet breathes. See to his wife.
Queen
(weeping, having covered her face with her dress).
The omen be averted! I will not weep. O Malayavatí, revive. Rise, my child, rise. At this time, if ever, look on the face of thy husband.
Malayavatí (coming to herself).
Alas! my husband!
Queen (stopping the mouth of Malayavatí).
O child, act not thus. May this omen be averted.
King (to himself, with tears).
Why do I not burst into a hundred pieces through sorrow, as I behold my son giving up his life, which, the rest of his body being destroyed, has retreated to his throat as to its last remaining stronghold?
Malayavatí.
Alas! my husband! I must indeed be very wicked, since, even when I see my husband in such a state, I yet live on!
Queen (stroking the limbs of the hero, and
addressing Garuda).
O thou who fearest naught, how could this body of my son, in the fresh bloom of youth, be brought by thee to such a state as this?
Jímútaváhana.
O mother, not so indeed. What harm has been done by him? Was it not in reality just the same before? See. What beauty can there be in a body, loathsome to the sight, and consisting of blood, marrow, flesh, bones, and fat, covered in by skin?
Garuda.
O noble-minded one, I stand in pain, regarding myself as already consumed by the fiery flames of hell. Point out, then, I pray, how I can be cleansed from my guilt.
Jímútaváhana.
If my father gives me leave, I will point out the expiation for this fault.
King.
Do so, my child.
Jímútaváhana.
Listen then, Garuda.
Garuda (putting his hands together).
Give your instructions.
Jímútaváhana.
Cease for ever from destroying life; repent of thy former deeds; labour to gather together an unbroken chain of good actions, by inspiring confidence in all living beings; so that this sin, which has its origin in the destruction of living beings, may not ripen to bear fruit, but may be all absorbed in thy merits, as a morsel of salt thrown into the depths of yonder ocean.
Garuda.
Whatever you order, I, who was lying in a sleep of ignorance, now, awakened by you, have from this day ceased from destroying living beings. Now let the race of Nágas wander happily in the mighty ocean—at times stretching from shore to shore like bridges—at times taken for whirlpools, through the coiling of their bodies—and at times resembling continents, from the multitude of their hoods, large as alluvial islands. Again, let the damsels of the Nágas in yon grove of sandal trees celebrate joyfully this glory of thine, thinking lightly of the fatigue, though their bodies faint with the exertion, and though their cheeks, browned by the touch of the rays of the early sun, seem as if bedaubed with red lead, while their hair let fall to their feet resembles the darkness of clouds.
Jímútaváhana.
Well said, O magnanimous one! We are delighted. By all means keep firm to your purpose. (Addressing Śankhachúda.) O Śankhachúda, do you now go home.
Jímútaváhana (sighing as he looks at his mother).
For assuredly thy mother will be sitting full of grief for thy pain, as she looks up, expecting to see thee drop, mangled by Garuda's beak.
Queen (with tears).
Blessed indeed is that mother, who will behold the face of her son, with his body uninjured, though he was actually in the very jaws of Garuda.
Śankhachúda.
O mother, it is indeed as you say. Would that the Prince might be saved!
Jímútaváhana (speaking as though in agony).
Ah! oh! These joint-racking pangs were not felt by me before, through the excess of pleasure, which I felt in doing good to another, but now they begin to hem me round.
King (with agitation).
Alas! my son, why this posture?
Queen.
Alas! alas! Why does he talk thus? (Beating her breast.) Help! help! My child is dying!
Malayavatí.
Ah! my husband, you appear in a hurry to leave us.
Jímútaváhana (trying to place his hands together).
O Śankhachúda! place my hands together.
Śankhachúda (doing so).
Alas! the world is robbed of its master.
Jímútaváhana (half opening his eyes,
and looking at his father).
O father, O mother! This is my last salutation. These limbs retain no consciousness—my ear hears no sound, however distinct the articulation—alas! my eye is fast closing—my father, these vital airs are quickly leaving me in my powerlessness—but, "Through the merit that I gain to-day by protecting a Nága at the sacrifice of myself, may I still obtain in succeeding existences a body to be sacrificed for others.”[9]
Queen.
Alas, my son! Alas, my child! Alas, darling of thy parents! Where art thou? Tell me!
King.
Alas, child Jímútaváhana! Alas, the darling of thy companions! Alas, thou possessed of all virtues, where art thou? Tell me! (Throwing up his hands.) Alas! alas! woe! Firmness has now no home. To whom can modesty go for protection? Who in the whole world now possesses patience? Liberality has ceased, and truth has verily perished! Whither now can pity go, itself worthy of pity? The whole world has become void by thy departure to another, O my son!
Malayavatí.
Alas, my husband! How could you leave me and depart? O Malayavatí, how cruel you are! What do you not deserve for living so long after your husband?
Śankhachúda.
O Prince, where art thou gone, forsaking these people, dearer to thee than life itself? Assuredly now Śankhachúda will follow thee.
Garuda.
Alas! This noble-minded one is dead. What shall I now do?
Queen (looking up with tears).
Oh revered guardians of the world, bring my son to life by sprinkling him in some way with ambrosia.
Garuda (joyfully to himself).
Ah! The mention of ambrosia reminds me opportunely. I think I may yet wipe out toy disgrace. I will pray to Indra, and persuade him by a shower of ambrosia to restore to life not only Jímútaváhana, but all those lords of Nágas that have heretofore been eaten by me, and who are now merely skeletons. If he will not grant it, then,—having drunk up the ocean with my wings, and borne along by mighty winds of ever-increasing violence, while the twelve suns fall fainting, bewildered by the flaming fierceness of my eyes,—I will break to pieces with my beak the thunderbolt of Indra, the club of Kuvera, and the staff of Yama, the lord of the dead, and, having conquered the Gods in battle, will at once by my own might let fall an ambrosial shower. Here, then, I go.
King.
O child, Śankhachúda, why do you still delay? Collect wood, and build a funeral pile for my son, that we too may go with him.
Queen.
O son, Śankhachúda, quickly get it ready. Thy brother remains in pain, without our company.
Śankhachúda (tearfully).
Whatever my parents order. Am not I willing to lead the way? (Rises and builds a funeral pile.) O father, O mother, here is the funeral pile prepared.
King.
O Queen, why do you still weep? Rise, we will mount the pile.
Malayavatí (looking up with her hands together).
O revered Gaurí, it was promised by thee—"An emperor of the Vidyádharas shall be thy husband." How, then, in my case, wretched one that I am, have thy words proved untrue?
(Then enters Gaurí, as in haste.)
Gaurí.
O mighty King Jímútaketu, assuredly this rash act must not be done.
King.
Oh! How can the sight of Gaurí be in vain?
Gaurí (addressing Malayavatí).
Child, how could I prove untrue? (Going up to the hero, and sprinkling him with water from a water-pot.) I am well pleased with thee, who even at the cost of thy own life would'st benefit the world. Live, Jímútaváhana!
King (joyfully).
O Queen! joy! joy! Our son is restored to life!
Queen.
By the blessing of Gaurí.
Jímútaváhana
(having seen Gaurí, putting his hands together).
Ah! how should the sight of Gaurí be in vain? O thou who grantest all desires, and removest all pain from thy prostrate worshippers, O protectress, I bow at thy feet,—O Gaurí, ever celebrated in song by the Vidyádharas!
All look upwards.
King.
Ah! what means this shower, when no clouds are seen? O revered one, what is this?
Gaurí.
O King Jímútaketu, this shower of ambrosia is caused to fall by the repentant lord of birds, to restore to life Jímútaváhana, and these lords of the Nágas, now only skeletons. (Pointing with a finger.) Do you not see these lords of Nágas? Now they reach Śankhachúda, their heads bright with the rays of their unveiled crest-jewels—now they lick up the very ground in their haste to devour the ambrosia with their two-forked tongues—and now, hurrying along, they plunge into the ocean by tortuous paths, like the waters of the rivers of the Malaya hills. (Addressing the hero.) O child Jímútaváhana, thou art worthy of something more than the mere gift of life, therefore this is my further blessing to thee—I on this very spot will make thee in a moment an universal emperor of the Vidyádharas, having sprinkled thee with purifying waters produced ready at hand from my Mánasa lake, only sullied by the dust of the golden lotuses, shaken by the pinions of the wild geese,—and placed in jewelled jars created by my will. Let the jewel of the golden wheel come first, then the elephant with the four white tusks, and the dark coloured horse, and next Malayavatí.[10] O emperor, behold these are the the jewels which I give thee. Yet further,—behold these nobles of the Vidyádharas, bearing in their hands chowries of the yak's tail, white as the autumnal moon, making, as they walk, and bow, and bend their bodies low in devotion, very rainbows with the rays of their gems,—and among them the villain Matanga and his fellows. Tell me, now, what yet further boon I can grant thee?
Jímútaváhana.
What boon can there be beyond this? Śankhachúda is delivered from him who was the dread of all the snakes; Garuda has been brought to a better mind; all the lords of the Nágas, whom he had ever eaten, he has now restored to life; my parents are yet alive, through the recovery of my life; imperial dignity has been obtained; and thou, O goddess, hast been seen visibly present. What further boon can I ask of thee? Yet, grant that these words of Bharata may come true:—May the clouds in due season let loose their showers, exhilarating the pea-fowl in their wild dance. May they clothe the earth with green harvests in a continual succession! And may all my subjects, accumulating good works, and freed from all calamities, rejoice with minds untainted by envy, tasting unbroken pleasure in the society of relations and friends!
END OF FIFTH AND LAST ACT.
- ↑ The utterance by the doorkeeper of the genitive case of Jímútaváhana, immediately succeeding, as it does, the word "death," ttered by the king, forms an inauspicious omen.
- ↑ Compare Colebrooke's Essays, I., page 157. At the obsequies of a priest, who maintained a consecrated fire, his funeral pile must be lighted from that fire.
- ↑ This of course is said in answer to Śankhachúda's suggestion above.
- ↑ "Swastika" is a mystical figure in the form of a cross. This passage might serve as a "locus classicus" for the Hindu conception of a Nága. Mr Fergusson gives pictures, taken from sculptures, of Nágas with three, five, or seven hoods.
- ↑ "Lokáloka," a mountainous chain surrounding the outermost of the seven seas, and which bounds the world, with the Hindus.
- ↑ "Bodhi-sattwa" is a technical term in Buddhist theology, denoting a potential Buddha, or one who has only one more birth remaining before he becomes a perfect Buddha, and meanwhile waits in heaven until his period comes round.
- ↑ "Vádava," or submarine fire. "In Hindu mythology this is represented as a being consisting of flame, but with the head of a mare, who sprang from the thigh of Úrva, and was received by the ocean."—Wilson's Dictionary. He is also called Aurva Bhárgava, He will destroy the world at the end of the "kalpa" or aeon. The Brahmanical "kalpa" consists of four thousand, three hundred, and twenty millions of solar years.
- ↑ Áyushmán, long-lived one, is here used as an address of good omen, and implies an understood prayer. It is a favourite Buddhist expression.
- ↑ He repeats this sentence from the end of the fourth act, where Garuda first seizes him.
- ↑ The wheel, the elephant, the horse, and the queen, are four of the seven jewels (ratnáni) which distinguish the universal emperor (Chakravartin) among the Buddhists. See Lalita-Vistara, III.