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THE INDIAN ANTIQUARY.
Colebrooke, Essays, Vol. II. p. 53). Other consider ations show that the Nāgānanda and the Ratnāvali and king Sri Harsha Deva, who is mentioned as their author, must be dated anterior to the time of Bhoja or his uncle Munja. Professor Cowell argues that the Nāgānanda and the Ratnávali could not have been produced by the same author, and that while he agrees with Mr. Hall that Băna wrote the former, the latter, he thinks, must be attributed to Dhāvaka.
He thinks there can be no doubt that
the King Sri Harsha Deva of these two plays is a different person from the Sri Harsha who wrote the Naishadha. His age is uncertain. Bābū Rajen dralāla Mitra (Jour. Beng. As. Soc. 1864) conjec tures he lived in the tenth century. “But I find,” says Prof. Cowell, “from a notice in the first num ber of the Indian Antiquary (p. 30), that Dr. Bühler of Bombay has recently fixed his date in the twelfth century.” This delightful little volume is beautifully print ed; and every line of the translation, the preface and the notes bears the trace of learning and con scientious accuracy. In the first act, which has a prologue wherein, according to custom, some blessing from a deity is invoked upon the audience, and in which alone in Sanskrit literature the power thus - invoked is Buddha, Jimútavāhana falls upon the “tranquil charms of an ascetic grove.” The basins and fuel are all right, whilst doubtful passages of the Veda are constantly discussed by the Munis. “Even these trees, taught respect for a guest, seem to utter a sweet welcome, with the murmuring of bees, and make, so to speak, an obeisance with their heads bowed down with fruit ; sprinkling rains of flowers, they present one a propitiatory offering. I think we shall have peace while living here.” Then enters the ground Malayavati, daughter of Visvavasu, who, after some talk with her maid,
begins to sing, whereupon the hero and his friend begin to peep—the former exclaiming—“If she be a goddess, the thousand eyes of Hari have all they can wish. If she be a woman of the Nāgas, then whilst her face is there, the lowest hell is not with out its moon. If she be of the Vidyadharas, then our race surpasses all others. If she he born of a family of Siddhas, then in the three worlds are the Siddhas glorious.” His Vidishaka is of a similar opinion, and love-making immediately pro ceeds apparently to the satisfaction of all present.
The entry of an ascetic announcing that the head of the family requires the heroine at the time of mid-day oblation closes the first act by separating the sighing lovers. In the second scene both are in great distress, raving about in love, till they over hear and matters become worse ; the heroine thinks the hero is talking about somebody else, and gets a noose over her neck to hang herself. The hero comes to the rescue, and a full understanding and the Gándharva marriage takes place. The third act
[MAy 3, 1872.
gives a very graphic picture of the marriage merry-makings. The Vidushaka gets very much pulled about by a Vita or parasite, who is so drunk that he mistakes him for his sweet-heart.
This is
the more ludicrous because the jester is a Brahman. There is a garden scene which closes with the entry of Mitrávasu, son of the king of the Siddhas, who announces to the hero that Mabanga has attacked his kingdom. The action in Act IV. is stirring. The hero's companion explains how, lest the whole
snake world should be destroyed through fear of the furious descent of Garuda, king of birds, the king of the lower world arranged with his im placable foe that, at the spot where the scene lies a Nāga should be ready daily for his dinner. “How
well,” says the hero, “were the snakes defended by their king Amongst his thousand double tongues was there not one with which he could say—‘my self is given by me this day to save the life of a
snake”" and again, on seeing the heaps of Nāga bones he exclaims.
“Wonderful!
Fools commit
sin even for the sake of a worthless body, which soon perishes, is ungrateful, and a storehouse of all
uncleanness. Well, this destruction of the Nagas will assuredly bring some judgment. Would that by giving up my own body I might save the life of
a single Nāga " An opportunity easily presents it self, for hereupon enters a victim Nāga Prince with his mother and servant, whom no entreaty will dissuade from assuming the red badge by which Garuda recognises his daily victim. The scene between the prince, the old woman, and the hero is pathetically put, and ends by the prince going to “walk round the southern Gokarna which is close at
hand,” so as to be better prepared to be born into a new state. He however leaves the red garment behind him, and this the hero joyfully seizes, for he says “through the merit that I gain to-day by protecting a Nāga at the sacrifice of myself, may I still obtain in succeeding existences a body to be sacrificed for others " Natural enough, as Mr. Boyd observes, for “to escape from the necessity of future birth and to obtain Nirvana is the supreme end of the Buddhist system.” Here descends Garuda in blackness of darkness, and asserts that
he must take the hero, “and ascend the Malayan mountain, there to eat him at my pleasure,” and the curtain falls.
The fifth Act is by far the most striking, it opens with a universal lamentation for the disappearance of the hero on the part of his parents and wife and his father-in-law's ambassador and others—with
whom the delivered Nāga prince at last consorts and
explains how matters stand. They all proceed to the hill home of Garuda where they see “the enemy of the Nāgas, on a pinnacle of the Malaya, making new gulliesin 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
