The Penguin Book of Classical Indian Love Stories and Lyrics Page 18

  Great was the joy both of the old prime minister, her father, and the gallant young prince when our fair artist returned home after a long absence, and related to them the successful termination of her mission. The old man hailed her as the saviour of his life, and the young prince loaded her with honours and precious gifts.

  Immediately afterwards the prince set out with a grand cavalcade and a magnificent train of followers for the court of our fair heroine’s father, and, needless to say, he was soon accepted as a worthy suitor for the fair princess’s hand, and in the course of a few days their union was celebrated with due splendour and rejoicings.

  ‘The Artist’s Stratagem’, from ‘Folklore in Western India’ by Putlibai D. H. Wadia. The Indian Antiquary, Vol. XVII.

  Princess Pepperina

  Flora Annie Steel

  A bulbul and its mate lived in a forest and sang all day. At last the bulbul said, ‘O husband, I should like some green chillies.’ The obedient lover flew off at once to find some. He flew and he flew, and he flew: still not in one single garden could he find a single green chilli. There was no fruit at all on the bushes, or it was red. At last in a desolate place he came to a magnificent garden; tall mango trees shaded it, and innumerable flowers and fruits were to be seen, but not a single sign of life: no birds, no beasts, no insects. The bulbul flew down into the middle of the garden, and lo! there grew a single pepper plant, and on it hung one single large green chilli that shone like an emerald. So the bulbul flew home to his mate, and said, ‘Come with me, dear wife, and I will show you the most beautiful green chilli you ever saw.’

  Now the jinn to whom the garden belonged was asleep in a summer house; he generally slept for twelve years at a time, and then remained awake for twelve years. So he knew nothing about it when the bulbul and his wife arrived in the garden and began to eat his beautiful green chilli. It so happened, however, that the time for his awakening was drawing near, so he grew restless and had bad dreams while the bulbul’s wife was eating the chilli. At the end of that time she laid one green glittering egg on the ground beneath the pepper plant, and then she and her mate flew away.

  Just then the jinn woke, and, as usual, went at once to see how his pet pepper plant was getting on. He found it pecked to pieces. Great was his sorrow and dismay; he wondered what had done the damage, knowing well that neither bird, beast nor insect lived in the garden. ‘Some horrid creeping thing from the world outside must have stolen in while I was asleep,’ said he to himself. ‘I will search for it and kill it.’ So he began to search and found nothing but the shining glittering green egg. He took it to the summer-house, wrapped it up in cotton wool, and laid it in a niche in the wall.

  Every day he looked at it, and sighed to think of his lost chilli; but one morning when he went to the niche, lo and behold! the egg had disappeared, and in its place sat the loveliest little maiden. She was dressed from head to foot in emerald green, and round her throat hung a single large emerald, shaped just like a green chilli. The jinn, who was good-hearted and fond of children, was delighted, and made it the business of his life to tend the Princess Pepperina, for that she told him was her name.

  Now when the Princess Pepperina was about twelve years old, it became time for the jinn to go to sleep again, and he racked his brains—what was to become of the princess meanwhile? It so happened that a king and his minister were hunting in the forest, and came upon the garden. Curious to see what was inside, they climbed over the wall, and found the beautiful Princess Pepperina seated by the pepper plant. The young king fell in love with her at once, saying, ‘Come and be my bride.’

  ‘Not so,’ said the Princess modestly. ‘The jinn who owns this garden is as my father, and you must ask him; unfortunately he has a habit of eating men sometimes.’ But when she looked at the young king her heart softened; she had never seen any one so handsome and beautiful; so she said, ‘Hide yourselves in the garden, and when the jinn returns I will question him.’

  No sooner had the jinn entered the summer-house than he called out, ‘Ho, ho, ho, manushgandh! manushgandh!*

  Then the Princess said: ‘Dear jinn, eat me if you will, for there is no man here, only me.’ But the Jinn kissed her, and caressed her, saying, ‘Dear life! I would sooner eat bricks and mortar.’ After that the princess asked him what would happen to her when he fell asleep, and the good jinn became sad and troubled at the thought of her loneliness. At last he said: ‘If I could only marry you to some young man, but there are none hereabouts: besides, your husband must be as beautiful as you are, and it will be a hard task to find such a one.’ Then the Princess Pepperina was rejoiced, and said: ‘Do you promise to marry me to any one, provided he is as beautiful as I am?’

  The jinn promised faithfully; then the princess clapped her hands, and out of a thicket came the young king.

  When he stood beside the princess holding her hand, even the jinn was obliged to confess that never was such a handsome couple seen. So the marriage was performed hurriedly, for already the jinn began to yawn; but when he said goodbye to the princess, he wept so that it kept him awake, and he followed them in his thoughts till he longed to see her face once more. Then he changed himself into a dove, and flew after her, and fluttered above her head. When he had had a gook look at her, and saw she was happy, he flew back again to his garden, and yawned, but the green mantle of Princess Pepperina floated before his eyes and kept him awake. So he changed himself into a hawk, and flew after her, circling round her bead. When he had assured himself of her welfare, he flew back to his garden and tried to sleep. But the soft eyes of the Princess seemed to look into his, so that he could not close them. At last he changed himself into an eagle, and soared far up into the sky, till with his bright piercing eyes he saw the princess away on the horizon entering a king’s palace. Then he was satisfied, yawned and went to sleep.

  Now the young king continued passionately in love with his new wife, but the other women were jealous, especially after she gave birth to the most lovely young prince that ever was seen; so they thought and thought how they might kill her or lay a snare for her. Every night they came to the door of the Queen’s room and whispered to see if she was awake, saying, ‘The Princess Pepperina is awake, but all the world is fast asleep.’ Now the emerald which the Princess wore round her neck, was a talisman, and always told the truth. So it answered at once, ‘Not so! The Princess is asleep; it is the world that wakes.’ Then the wicked women shrunk away, for they knew they had no power to harm the Princess so long as the talisman was round her neck.

  At last, one day when the Princess was bathing she took off the talisman, and left it by mistake in the bathing place. That night when the wicked women came and whispered, ‘The Princess Pepperina is awake, but all the world is fast asleep,’ the truthful talisman called out from the bathing place: ‘Not so! The Princess is asleep, it is the world that wakes.’ Then knowing by the direction whence the voice came that the talisman was not in its usual place, they stole into the room softly, killed the young prince who was sleeping in his crib, cut him into little bits, then laid them in his mother’s bed, and gently stained her lips with his blood. Then they called the king, and said, ‘See, your beautiful wife is an ogress. She has killed her child in order to eat his flesh.’ Then the king was very wroth, and ordered her to be first whipped out of his dominions, and then killed.

  So the beautiful Princess Pepperina was scourged out of the kingdom and slain; but when she died her body became a high white wall, her eyes turned into liquid pools of water, her green mantle into stretches of soft grass, her long twining hair into creepers and tendrils, while her scarlet mouth and white teeth changed to a bed of roses and narcissus. Then her soul took the form of chakwa and a chakwi, and floating on the liquid pools mourned her sad fate all day long.’

  Now after many days, the king, who was full of distress for the loss of his young wife, went out hunting, and found no sport anywhere.

  By chance he came to the high white wall, and b
eing curious to see what it encircled, he climbed over it, and saw the green grass, and twining tendrils, the roses and narcissus, and the liquid pools with the chakwa and chakwi floating on them, singing sorrowfully. The king was hot and tired, so he lay down to rest on the grass and listened to the cry of the birds. Then the chakwa told his mate the whole story of the wicked women’s treachery, and the king listened with a beating heart.

  The chakwi wept, saying, ‘Can she never become alive again?’

  ‘If any one will catch us and hold us close together,’ answered the chakwa, ‘with heart to heart, and then sever our heads from our bodies at one blow, so that neither of us shall die before the other, the Princess Pepperina will take her own form again.’ The king, delighted at the prospect of seeing his love again, called the chakwa and chakwi to him: they came quite readily, and stood heart to heart, while he cut off their heads with one blow of his sword. No sooner were their heads off than there stood the Princess Pepperina, smiling and beautiful as ever; but strange to say, the liquid pools and grass, the rose and narcissus remained as they were.

  Then said the king, ‘Come away home, I will never mistrust you again, and I will kill the wicked traitors who belied you.’

  But the Princess said, ‘Not so. Let me live here always.’

  Just then the jinn woke and yawned. He knew at once by his art where the Princess was, so he flew to her, saying, ‘Just so! and here I will live also.’

  So he built them a magnificent palace, and there the Princess remained and was happy ever after.

  ‘Princess Pepperina’, from ‘Folklore in the Punjab’ by F. A. Steel, with notes by R. C. Temple. The Indian Antiquary, Vol. X, 1881.

  Chakwa and chakwi—The ruddy goose or sheldrake, the Brahmani duck. Dr Fallon, New Hind Diet., says of this bird:—’It is found all over India in the winter. It breeds on rocks on the borders of the great Himalayan lakes. The bird extends all over central Europe and the greater part of Asia and northern Africa. The Indians have a legend that two lovers for some indiscretion were turned into Brahmani ducks, and condemned to pass the night apart from each other on the opposite banks of a river. All night long each asks the other in turn if it shall join its mate, and the other is always in the negative. Chakwa—Shall I come? No, Chakwi. Chakwi—Shall I come? No, Chakwa.’

  Baludada and Bayobai

  Fr. D’Penha

  In a certain country there once lived a king, who had one son. The prince was sent to school, where he proved himself worthy of the schoolmaster, and when he had attained maturity, the king, his father, thought it high time to get him married. The prince said to him, ‘If you wish to get me married, I shall want a wife who will sustain the dignity of my father and the honour of my mother; else I do not want a wife.’*

  ‘Very well,’ the king replied, ‘we want for nothing, and I will send my messengers to all parts of the country and even to foreign lands to get you just such a wife as you desire.’

  Accordingly, he at once despatched people to all parts of the country, and also to foreign courts, with the message: ‘If any one has a daughter that will keep up the dignity of the father and the honour of the mother, we wish to enter into an alliance with him.’

  The messengers went from village to village and from town to town, and penetrated into foreign countries, but with little success; for who was there that would guarantee to keep up the dignity of the father and the honour of the mother? At length the king of a distant country had an only daughter, and he too received this message, but also refused the proposal. The princess, however, asked her father what the letter contained, but the king refused to tell her. However, after much entreaty she was told what it was about, and exclaimed, ‘Yes, father, give them my answer, I will keep up the dignity of the father and the honour of the mother.’

  The king, thereupon, sent his own men with another message to the effect that he was willing to enter into the alliance, and that his daughter was willing to fulfil the conditions imposed by the prince. The messengers were also authorized to settle a day for the celebration of the marriage. The messengers reached the prince’s dominions, and made all the arrangements necessary, and appointed a day for the auspicious occasion.

  Preparations were now made on both sides on a grand scale. Nothing was spared to make the occasion a great event. In due time, on the appointed day, the marriage took place with all possible splendour. The bride was still very young and consequently had to remain at her parent’s house till she should attain puberty.

  A year or two after the marriage the prince thought of paying a visit to his wife, and expressed his desire to his father. The king, of course, had no objection, and gave his consent, giving him money for his expenses on the way. The prince, however, disguised himself as a poverty-stricken person, and went to his wife’s country. When he had arrived there he cut a bundle of grass, and, carrying it on his head, passed by his father-in-law’s house. His wife saw him with the grass and called out to him: ‘Grasscutter, grasscutter, are you employed or without employment?’

  The pretended grasscutter replied, ‘I am without employment.’

  The princess then said, ‘Grasscutter, will you take employment at our house?’

  The prince said he was willing to take employment, and was engaged as a servant by his own wife, who, of course, was unaware of the real state of affairs. But the prince knew her, and thought it a fitting opportunity of testing, by observing her behaviour, whether she could fulfil the conditions imposed by him.

  This state of things went on for a few years, when one day the parents of the princess called the supposed servant and said to him, ‘Grasscutter, we are going to a distant country for a month or two, during which time you must take care of our daughter.’

  The servant having promised to take care of the princess, her parents, the king and queen, left for the distant country, and after they were gone the princess one day said to her servant, ‘Grasscutter, grasscutter, what is your name?’

  The prince replied, ‘Baludada,’ and asked her in return what her name was, and she answered, ‘Bayobai.’

  And then she said to him, ‘Baludada, would you do anything for me, if I were to tell you to?’

  Baludada replied, ‘Yes, Bayobai, I will do whatever work you may want me to do.’

  And then he said to her, ‘Bayobai, you will cook and give me to eat, won’t you?’

  And Bayobai said, ‘Yes, I will give.’ And they lived together like brother and sister; Baludada doing whatever he was asked to do, and Bayobai doing the cooking for him.†

  About this time Bayobai attained to puberty,‡ that is she was twelve years old, and was one day walking on the sea-beach, when a great merchant arrived with a ship full of pearls and rubies. The merchant spied Bayobai walking on the sea-beach, and was so enamoured of her beauty that he determined at any cost to get hold of her. So he began to enquire in the neighbourhood if it were possible, but the neighbours said that they could not tell, that her parents were not at home, and that she was left under the care of a servant. So he sent for Baludada, and asked him, too, whether he thought his mistress would allow his advances, and promised to give Baludada five hundred rupees, and Bayobai whatever she asked for. Baludada thought this the best opportunity possible of testing her, and went, therefore, running to Bayobai, and said to her, ‘Bayobai, will you listen to what I have to say?’

  Bayobai said she would, but Baludada again said to her, ‘If you agree to what I say, I will tell you.’

  Bayobai, little suspecting what the nature of the talk was to be, agreed to do as he should say. Then Baludada told her that a great merchant, who had arrived with a ship full of pearls and rubies, had told him to ask her whether she would admit his advances and to tell her that if she would, he would give her whatever she asked for.

  Bayobai upon this said, ‘What! Baludada, my parents are not at home, and you tell me such a thing as this!’

  Baludada then said that if she did not agree he would leave her service
and go away. Upon this Bayobai said, ‘Very well, go and tell him that he must give me his word in writing that if I admit him at eight o’clock tonight, and turn him out again as soon as it strikes twelve, I may take his vessel of pearls and rubies.’

  Baludada immediately went and informed the merchant, and got a document prepared then and there. Then Bayobai sent Baludada to the bazaar to purchase a lot of vegetables, fish, ghee, and such like things, and he went and brought them home. Punctually at eight o’clock that evening the merchant arrived, and Bayobai offered him a seat; and preliminaries being over, she began to cook in order to entertain her guest. She gave Baludada his meal as usual, and asked him to sleep in her house for the night; but he refused to do so, and leaving the house went and hid himself near a window, whence he could watch everything that passed. Now as Bayobai was cooking she wanted a coconut, in searching for which she spent nearly an hour and then another half hour in finding the koita to break the coconut with, and in this way kept on spinning out the time. It was past eleven o’clock by the time she had finished cooking, and then she laid out the supper for the merchant. At supper the merchant was told that he must eat of everything that she might bring, and not rise from the table. Now Bayobai had prepared so many dishes and so many kinds of sweets, which she brought on the table one by one, that before supper was over the clock struck twelve. Upon this Bayobai called out to Baludada in a loud voice, thinking he was asleep in his own hut. Our hero, who was close by, ran off at the first call, and came back running from the direction of his hut, growling, or rather pretending to growl, for having been aroused from sleep, ‘What is the matter? Why are you calling me?’