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speech of the hermit, courted her so assiduously with speeches tender with love, that she was overpowered with affection, and promised to become his wife at once, but insisted on the following condition; " My husband, for four days in every month, the fourteenth and eighth of the white and black fortnights, I am not my own mistress;*[1] and whithersoever I may go on those days, you must not question me on the subject nor forbid me, for there is a reason for it."†[2] When the heavenly maiden had stated in these words the only condition on which she would consent to marry the king, he agreed to it, and married her by the Gándharva form of marriage.

And one day, while the king was living happily with Mrigánkavatí, she said to him, " You must stop here, while I go somewhere for a certain business, for to-day is the fourteenth day of the black fortnight of which I spoke to you. And while you are waiting here, my husband, you must not enter this crystal pavilion, lest you should fall into a lake there and go to the world of men." When she had said this, she took leave of him, and went out of that city, and the king took his sword and followed her secretly, determined to penetrate the mystery.

Then the king saw a terrible Rákshasa approaching, looking like Hades embodied in a human shape, with his cavernous mouth, black as night, opened wide. That Rákshasa uttered an appalling roar, and swooping down on Mrigánkavatí, put her in his mouth and swallowed her. When the mighty king saw that, he was at once, so to speak, on fire with excessive anger, and rushing forward with his great sword, black as a snake that has cast its slough,‡[3] drawn from the sheath, he cut off with it the head of the charging Rákshasa, the lips of which were firmly pressed together. Then the burning fire of the king's anger was quenched by the stream of blood that poured forth from the trunk of the Rákshasa, but not the fire of his grief at the loss of his beloved. Then the king was blinded with the darkness of bewilderment, and at a loss what to do, when suddenly Mrigánkavatí cleft asunder the body of that Rákshasa, which was dark as a cloud, and emerged alive and uninjured, illuminating all the horizon like a spotless moon When the king saw his beloved thus delivered from danger, he rushed eagerly forward and embraced her, exclaiming, " Come !

  1. * The Sanskrit College MS. reads anáyottá, which Dr. Korn has conjectured.
  2. † This part of the story may remind the reader of the story of Melusina the European snake-maiden: see Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. VI. It bears a certain resemblance to that of the Knight of Stauffenberg (Simrock's Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. III.) Cp. also Ein Zimmern und die Meerfrauen, in Birlinger, Aus Schwahen, p. 7. Cp. also De Gubernatis, Zoological Mythology, Vol. II, p. 206. There is a slight resemblance in this story to the myth of Cupid and Psyche
  3. ‡ For bhujagah the Sanskrit College MS. reads bhujaga, which seems to give a better sense than the reading in Brockhaus's text.