Sexual Life in Ancient India: A Study in the Comparative History of Indian Culture v2.c13.70

v2.c13.70

the most excellent herdsman of men tied it to a tree, and plunged in. But as soon as he had bathed there, he became a woman. When he now saw himself turned into a woman, the best of princes was ashamed; his whole soul was filled with mournful sorrow, and his mind and heart were troubled. ‘But how can I mount my horse? how go into the city? And through the Agniṣṭut sacrifice which I made a hundred stout sons of my body have been born to me. But what shall I say to them? And what shall I say among my wives, and the townsmen and the country-folk? Tenderness and weakness and a faint heart withal are the marks of women, as the Rishis have declared, who know virtue, truth, and profit. Manly strength put forth, sternness, and bravery are the marks of a man.¹ My manhood is gone, through some way or other I have become a woman. And since I am a woman, how can I mount my horse again?’ With great trouble, however, the first herdsman of men now mounted his steed,² and went back into the city, turned into a woman, he the best of princes. But his sons, wives, servants, townsmen, and countrymen fell to the greatest wondering, when they learned of it, and spoke: ‘What is this, indeed?’ Then said the royal Rishi, best of all speakers, that had become a woman: ‘I rode out to hunt, surrounded by stout soldiers. Losing my way, I found myself, driven on by fate, in a dreadful forest. And in this most dreadful forest, racked by thirst, and bereft of my senses, I saw a most fair shining pond, covered with fowl. When I plunged into it, I was by the hand of Providence turned a little while ago into a woman.’ And giving the names and families of his wives and ministers,¹ then did this best of princes speak to his sons: ‘Do ye enjoy in gladness and friendship the kingly rule; I am going away into the forest, my little sons.’ When he had thus spoken to his hundred sons, he did indeed go off into the forest. And after this woman had gone into a hermitary, she found a penitent. From the penitent she had a hundred sons in the hermitary. Then she took them all with her, and spoke to her earlier sons: ‘Ye are my sons from the time when I was a man, and these are my hundred sons which I have got as a woman. Enjoy ye, at one in brotherly hearts, the kingly rule, my dear sons.’ Then did these brothers enjoy together the kingly rule. When the king of the gods saw them now ruling over the most excellent kingdom with brotherly hearts, he thought to himself, overborne by anger: ‘I have done the king a good deed, not an evil.’ Then went the ruler of the gods, Çatakratu, in the shape of a Brahman, to the city, and stirred up these sons of the herdsman of men: ‘Among brothers there is no good brotherly understanding, even when they are sons of one father. For the sake of the kingly rule the offspring of Kaçyapa, the gods and the demons, fell to strife. Ye are the offspring of Bhaṅgāsvana, the others are the sons of a penitent. But the gods and the demons are alike Kaçyapa’s sons. Your father’s kingdom is being ruled by the penitent’s sons.’ Stirred up by Indra, they slew one another in the fight. When the penitent’s wife heard of it, she broke into tears, stabbed through by sorrow. Indra, disguised as a Brahman, now came to her, and asked her: ‘What is the sorrow tormenting thee, that thou weepest, O lovely one?’ Then