The Kādambarī of Bāṇa

THE AUTHOR.

Banabhatta, its author, lived in the reign of Harshavardhana of Thaneçar, the great king mentioned in many inscriptions, [2] who extended his rule over the whole of Northern India, and from whose reign (A.D. 606) dates the Harsha era, used in Nepal. Bana, as he tells us, both in the 'Harsha-Carita' and in the introductory verses of 'Kadambari,' was a Vatsyayana Brahman. His mother died while he was yet young, and his father's tender care of him, recorded in the 'Harsha-Carita,' [3] was doubtless in his memory as he recorded the unselfish love of Vaiçampayana's father in 'Kadambari' (p. 22). In his youth he travelled much, and for a time 'came into reproach,' by reason of his unsettled life; but the experience gained in foreign lands turned his thoughts homewards, and he returned to his kin, and lived a life of quiet study in their midst. From this he was summoned to the court of King Harsha, who at first received him coldly, but afterwards attached him to his service; and Bana in the 'Harsha-Carita' relates his own life as a prelude to that of his master.

The other works attributed to him are the 'Candikaçataka,' [4] or verses in honour of Candika; a drama, 'The Parvatiparinaya'; and another, called 'Mukutataditaka,' the existence of which is inferred from Gunavinayagani's commentary on the 'Nalacampu.' Professor Peterson also mentions that a verse of Bana's ('Subhashitavali,' 1087) is quoted by Kshemendra in his 'Aucityavicaracarca,' with a statement that it is part of a description of Kadambari's sorrow in the absence of Candrapida, whence, he adds, 'it would seem that Bana wrote the story of Kadambari in verse as well as in prose,' and he gives some verses which may have come from such a work.

Bana himself died, leaving 'Kadambari' unfinished, and his son Bhushanabhatta took it up in the midst of a speech in which Kadambari's sorrows are told, and continued the speech without a break, save for a few introductory verses in honour of his father, and in apology for his having undertaken the task, 'as its unfinished state was a grief to the good.' He continued the story on the same plan, and with careful, and, indeed, exaggerated, imitation of his father's style.

THE PLOT OF KADAMBARI.

The story of 'Kadambari' is a very complex one, dealing as it does with the lives of two heroes, each of whom is reborn twice on earth.

(1-47) A learned parrot, named Vaiçampayana, was brought by a Candala maiden to King Çudraka, and told him how it was carried from its birthplace in the Vindhya Forest to the hermitage of the sage Jabali, from whom it learnt the story of its former life.

(47-95) Jabali's story was as follows: Tarapida, King of Ujjayini, won by penance a son, Candrapida, who was brought up with Vaiçampayana, son of his minister, Çukanasa. In due time Candrapida was anointed as Crown Prince, and started on an expedition of world-conquest. At the end of it he reached Kailasa, and, while resting there, was led one day in a vain chase of a pair of kinnaras to the shores of the Acchoda Lake. (95-141) There he beheld a young ascetic maiden, Mahaçveta, who told him how she, being a Gandharva princess, had seen and loved a young Brahman Pundarika; how he, returning her feeling, had died from the torments of a love at variance with his vow; how a divine being had carried his body to the sky, and bidden her not to die, for she should be reunited with him; and how she awaited that time in a life of penance. (141-188) But her friend Kadambari, another Gandharva princess, had vowed not to marry while Mahaçveta was in sorrow, and Mahaçveta invited the prince to come to help her in dissuading Kadambari from the rash vow. Love sprang up between the prince and Kadambari at first sight; but a sudden summons from his father took him to Ujjayini without farewell, while Kadambari, thinking herself deserted, almost died of grief.

(188-195) Meanwhile news came that his friend Vaiçampayana, whom he had left in command of the army, had been strangely affected by the sight of the Acchoda Lake, and refused to leave it. The prince set out to find him, but in vain; and proceeding to the hermitage of Mahaçveta, he found her in despair, because, in invoking on a young Brahman, who had rashly approached her, a curse to the effect that he should become a parrot, she learnt that she had slain Vaiçampayana. At her words the prince fell dead from grief, and at that moment Kadambari came to the hermitage.

(195-202) Her resolve to follow him in death was broken by the promise of a voice from the sky that she and Mahaçveta should both be reunited with their lovers, and she stayed to tend the prince's body, from which a divine radiance proceeded; while King Tarapida gave up his kingdom, and lived as a hermit near his son.

(202 to end) Such was Jabali's tale; and the parrot went on to say how, hearing it, the memory of its former love for Mahaçveta was reawakened, and, though bidden to stay in the hermitage, it flew away, only to be caught and taken to the Candala princess. It was now brought by her to King Çudraka, but knew no more. The Candala maiden thereupon declared to Çudraka that she was the goddess Lakshmi, mother of Pundarika or Vaiçampayana, and announced that the curse for him and Çudraka was now over. Then Çudraka suddenly remembered his love for Kadambari, and wasted away in longing for her, while a sudden touch of Kadambari restored to life the Moon concealed in the body of Candrapida, the form that he still kept, because in it he had won her love. Now the Moon, as Candrapida and Çudraka, and Pundarika, in the human and parrot shape of Vaiçampayana, having both fulfilled the curse of an unsuccessful love in two births on earth, were at last set free, and, receiving respectively the hands of Kadambari and Mahaçveta, lived happily ever afterwards.

The plot is involved, and consists of stories within each other after the fashion long familiar to Europeans in the 'Arabian Nights'; but the author's skill in construction is shown by the fact that each of the minor stories is essential to the development of the plot, and it is not till quite the end that we see that Çudraka himself, the hearer of the story, is really the hero, and that his hearing the story is necessary to reawaken his love for Kadambari, and so at the same time fulfil the terms of the curse that he should love in vain during two lives, and bring the second life to an end by his longing for reunion. It may help to make the plot clear if the threads of it are disentangled. The author in person tells all that happens to Çudraka (pp. 3-16 and pp. 205 to end). The parrot's tale (pp. 16-205) includes that of Jabali (pp. 47-202) concerning Candrapida, and Vaiçampayana the Brahman, with the story told by Mahaçveta (pp. 101-136) of her love for Pundarika.

THE STORY AS TOLD IN THE KATHA-SARIT-SAGARA.

The story as told in the Katha-Sarit-Sagara of Somadeva [5] differs in some respects from this. There a Nishada princess brought to King Sumanas a learned parrot, which told its life in the forest, ended by a hunt in which its father was killed, and the story of its past life narrated by the hermit Agastya. In this story a prince, Somaprabha, after an early life resembling that of Candrapida, was led in his pursuit of kinnaras to an ascetic maiden, Manorathaprabha, whose story is that of Mahaçveta, and she took him, at his own request, to see the maiden Makarandika, who had vowed not to marry while her friend was unwed. He was borne through the air by a Vidyadhara, and beheld Makarandika. They loved each other, and a marriage was arranged between them. The prince, however, was suddenly recalled by his father, and Makarandika's wild grief brought on her from her parents a curse that she should be born as a Nishada. Too late they repented, and died of grief; and her father became a parrot, keeping from a former birth as a sage his memory of the Çastras, while her mother became a sow. Pulastya added that the curse would be over when the story was told in a king's court.

The parrot's tale reminded King Sumanas of his former birth, and on the arrival of the ascetic maiden, sent by Çiva, 'who is merciful to all his worshippers,' he again became the young hermit she had loved. Somaprabha, too, at Çiva's bidding, went to the king's court, and at the sight of him the Nishada regained the shape of Makarandika, and became his wife; while the parrot 'left the body of a bird, and went to the home earned by his asceticism.' 'Thus,' the story ends, 'the appointed union of human beings certainly takes place in this world, though vast spaces intervene.'

The main difference between the stories is in the persons affected by the curse; and here the artistic superiority of Bana is shown in his not attaching the degrading forms of birth to Kadambari or her parents. The horse is given as a present to the hero by Indra, who sends him a message, saying: 'You are a Vidyadhara, and I give you the horse in memory of our former friendship. When you mount it you will be invincible.' The hero's marriage is arranged before his sudden departure, so that the grief of the heroine is due only to their separation, and not to the doubts on which Bana dwells so long. It appears possible that both this story and 'Kadambari' are taken from a common original now lost, which may be the Brihatkatha of Gunadhya. [6] In that case the greater refinement of Bana's tale would be the result of genius giving grace to a story already familiar in a humbler guise.

REFERENCES TO KADAMBARI IN THE SAHITYA-DARPANA AND ELSEWHERE.

The author of the Sahitya-Darpana [7] speaks of the Katha as follows: 'In the Katha (tale), which is one of the species of poetical composition in prose, a poetical matter is represented in verse, and sometimes the Arya, and sometimes the Vaktra and Apavaktraka are the metres employed in it. It begins with stanzas in salutation to some divinity, as also descriptive of the behaviour of bad men and others.' To this the commentary adds: 'The "Kadambari" of Banabhatta is an example.' Professor Peterson corrects the translation of the words 'Kathayam sarasam vastu padyair eva vinirmitam,' giving as their sense, 'A narration in prose, with here and there a stray verse or two, of matter already existing in a metrical form.' [8] According to his rendering, the Katha is in its essence a story claiming to be based on previous works in verse, whether in this case the original were Bana's own metrical version of 'Kadambari,' [9] or the work which was also the original of the Katha-Sarit-Sagara story.

The story of Pundarika and Mahaçveta receives mention, firstly, for the introduction of death, contrary to the canon; secondly, for the determination of the nature of their sorrow, and its poetic quality, and consequent appeal to the feelings of the reader. Firstly: (§ 215) 'Death, which is a condition to which one may be brought by love, is not described in poetry and the drama, where the other conditions, such as anxiety, etc., are constantly described, because it, instead of enhancing, causes the destruction of "Flavour." [10] But it may be spoken of (1) as having nearly taken place, or (2) as being mentally wished for; and it is with propriety described (3) if there is to be, at no distant date, a restoration to life.' The commentary takes the story of Pundarika as an example of the third condition, and describes it as a 'case of pathetic separation.' Secondly: (§ 224) 'Either of two young lovers being dead, and being yet to be regained through some supernatural interposition, when the one left behind is sorrowful, then let it be called the separation of tender sadness' (karunavipralamhha). The commentary gives Mahaçveta as the instance, and continues: 'But if the lost one be not regainable, or regainable only after transmigration in another body, the flavour is called the "Pathetic" simply, there being in this case no room for any admixture of the "Erotic"; but in the case just mentioned--of Pundarika and Mahaçveta--immediately on Sarasvati's declaration from the sky that the lovers should be reunited, there is the "Erotic in its form of tender sadness," for desire arises on the expectation of reunion, but PREVIOUSLY to Sarasvati's promise there was the "Pathetic"; such is the opinion of the competent authorities. And as for what some say in regard to the case of Pundarika and Mahaçveta, that "moreover AFTER the expectation of reunion, excited by Sarasvati's promise to that effect, there is merely your honour's variety of "love in absence," (§ 222) the one which you call "being abroad" (§ 221)--others hold it to be distinct, because of the presence of that distinction, DEATH, which is something else than merely being abroad.' These are the passages in which direct mention is made of 'Kadambari,' and in § 735, which defines special mention (parisamkhya) as taking place 'when something is affirmed for the denial, expressed or understood, of something else similar to it,' the commentary adds: 'When founded upon a Paronomasia, it is peculiarly striking, e.g., "When that king, the conqueror of the world, was protecting the earth, the mixture of colours (or castes) was in painting, etc.,"--a passage from the description of Çudraka in "Kadambari" (P. 5).'