Copyright 1997 Revised 11/99

THE YOUTH WHO BECAME A MAIDEN

(From an Indian Folktale)

Retold by Christopher Leeson

The vampire, whom King Trivikramasena had seized at his graveside, sought to distract his brave captor by telling him still another story:

Once upon a time in the city of Sivapura there was a king named Yasahketu who placed the onerous burdens of government on the shoulders of his councilor Prajnasagara and, with his queen, lived a wasteful life of self-indulgence. In the course of time, the king sired upon his consort a daughter whom they named Sasiprabha, which means Moon-Lustre, for she displayed the pale beauty of the moon. In due time this girl grew to womanhood.

One day the princess came out into the palace garden to watch the celebrations of the festival of spring. As she was picking flowers she unknowingly inclined herself to reveal one charming breast. Shis was seen by the son of a rich brahmin, Manahsvamin, who, like her, had come to attend the spring festival. The instant he set eyes on her, in spite of a name which means "Mind's Master," the young man was bewitched with a yearning passion and was no longer master of his own mind at all.

"Is she the Goddess of Desire? Or is she a sylph that has come from the deep forest?" he asked himself. While the youth stood wondering, the princess turned his way, and deigned to look with interest and pleasure.

While the pair stood staring, there arose a loud clamor and they raised their heads to see what was happening. Bearing down on them, uprooting the trees along the road, a berserk elephant came running. The companions of the princess fled in panic and the princess was left abandoned in the path of the enraged beast. Instantly Manahsvamin dashed toward her, swept her into his arms, and carried her out of the elephant's path. Then the princess was again surrounded by her attendants, who, praising the brahmin's courage, escorted her back to her own quarters, not noticing that she kept stealing covert glances over her shoulder at her bold rescuer. At home the princess could not stop thinking of the youth and every day thereafter she burned with the fires of love.

Manahsvamin had followed the princess until she vanished into her chambers. And he thought: "I cannot hope to endure life without her. My only salvation may be my teacher, Master Muladeva, the skillful sorcerer."

Somehow the young brahmin struggled through the day and a long, sleepless night, and then in the morning went off to visit Master Muladeva. Manahsvamin bowed to the master mage and told him his desire which, with a smile, Muladeva promised to satisfy. The magician took a magic bead, put it into his own mouth, and changed himself into an noble-looking old brahmin; then he pushed into Manahsvamin's mouth still another bead, which changed him instantly into a beautiful girl.

"What have you done?!" exclaimed the youth.

"Be patient, my pupil," the sorcerer admonished, and then he explained his plan in detail. It sounded so cunningly wrought that Manahsvamin decided that he had surely found the right helper.

Thereupon the crafty Muladeva escorted the transformed Manahsvamin to the marketplace to buy some clothes suitable for a highborn maid and her father, and from hence conducted his pupil to the sire of the boy's beloved, who was, of course, the idle king. Securing an audience, the disguised wizard made of his liege the following request:

"Your Majesty, I have one son, and for him I have asked for this girl in marriage and brought her from afar. But when I arrived home I found that my son had gone adventuring and thus the marriage cannot proceed until I locate the boy. While I am away, I beg you, Sire, keep this blameless girl under your protection."

Wary of offending a powerful brahmin who might place a curse upon his house, King Yasahketu promised to do the favor and summoned his daughter Moon-Lustre into the hall. He said to her: "Daughter, keep this girl with you in your chambers and treat her like your own sister!"

So the princess promised to do this and conducted the transformed Manahsvamin to her own chambers. And while the false brahmin went his way, Manahsvamin remained near his beloved in the shape of a girl.

After a few days the princess came to trust in her companion's friendship and affection. The imposter then felt emboldened and one night Manahsvamin whispered softly from the adjoining bed, questioning the princess as to why she was not eating well and always lay at night tossing and turning.

"Why are you so unhappy, my dear? Every day you grow paler, and more colorless and thin, as though you were separated from your lover. Tell me, what is the matter? Is there any reason why you should not trust your loving and innocent friend? If you do not tell me what is wrong, I shall refuse my meals also!"

The princess sighed. "Why should I not trust you? I will tell you all, my sister:

One day I went out to watch the flower festival of spring and there I saw a handsome youth. He was as fine as snow or pearls or moonlight -- he was like a god. But while my eyes feasted on his beauty there was a sudden thunder like Doomsday and a monstrous wild elephant came down upon us. My attendants left me behind, but that young brahmin boy took me into his arms and swept me out of the way. When I touched his body I felt . . . I don't know what. Alas, before we could say a word, my companions returned and took me from his embrace. I was beside myself. It was as though I had been thrown from the bliss of paradise down to the sordid earth!

"Ever since, even when I am wide-awake, I imagine that the lord of my dreams lies beside me. I imagine that he has used some clever ruse to win his way into my chamber. At night when I lay awake I seem to hear him urge me to love him. But I know nothing about youth, neither his name nor his family -- and I have no way of finding with him. And so the agony of separation burns my soul with fire."

The boy in the body of a maiden now saw that his ends were achieved. He took the bead from his mouth and showed himself in his natural form.

"Darling with the dazzling eyes," he addressed her, "I am the one whom you have won with your glances in that garden!"

"But how do you take the shape of a maiden?" the princess asked in amazement.

The cunning adventurer was ready with a lie. "When my meeting with you was cut short, I fell to such immoderate lamentations that the gods deemedme unmanly, and so gave me the form of a girl. It is your declaration of true love for me which has broken their cruel spell."

Then the princess was overwhelmed by joy and they married each other in the informal manner that the Gandharvas practice in Heaven. Their nuptials were followed by such a feast of affection that their mutual passions temporarily sated. Henceforth Manahsvamin contentedly lived in two different forms: by day a girl, by night a youth.

Several days passed in this way. As it happened, a neighboring king had sent his daughter Mrigankavati with a very large marriage dowry to Councilor Prajnasagara's son. Moon-Lustre was invited to the wedding of her cousin and took with her the disguised youth Manahsvamin among her retinue of maids-in-waiting.

But what Fortune gives, she oft will endanger! When the bridegroom saw the supposed girl, he was utterly smitten with passion and, robbed of reason, he went with his new bride to a home without joy. Once there, he totally immersed himself in longing for the beauty of Manahsvamin. Before long, the bridegroom fell into a swoon, a victim of unrestrained desire. His father Prajnasagara came hurrying to his son's house to find out what was wrong. Comforted by his father, the young man raved deliriously of his yearning, leading his father to believe that his son had lost his senses and might die if his desire was not achieved.

The good councilor notified the king of his cause of distress and the gracious monarch soon appeared at his servant's house. After having seen that boy was indeed suffering from the seventh degree of love-sickness, the king conferred with his ministers.

"The girl has been entrusted to me by a brahmin," he said. "Her hand is spoken for. How can I marry her to another? Alack, unless I permit it the boy will certainly perish of love's cruel wounds. -- And when he has died, his father, my councilor, must surely depart this world from grief, and at my councilor's death the kingdom shall surely be ill-run and fall into ruin! Advise me, Wise Ones, what can we do?"

The ministers debated and advised the king that regardless of circumstances, the maid must marry the councilor's son. The brahmin will be enraged, they owned, but he could be mollified by generous gifts when he returned.

The monarch agreed despite his misgivings and consented to give the supposed girl to the councilor's son. When a propitious hour for the nuptials had been calculated, Manahsvamin was brought from the princess' chambers to meet with the king. When he had overcome his immediate dismay at the prospect of a forced marriage, he addressed the king courageously:

"Your Majesty, if you invalidate your pledge to my father-in-law, that is for the gods, not myself, to judge. I have no choice but to bow to your will, for you are mighty in power, but I will do so on this condition only: I shall not be forced to sleep with my husband until he has returned from a pilgrimage of six months to the holy places, for then I shall know that he loves me truly and is of good, pious heart. If this condition is not met, I swear that I shall kill myself by biting off my tongue!"

The king conveyed Manahsvamin's condition to the councilor's son, a man too much in love to gainsay his beloved's lightest whim. The false girl and the youth were married before all the mighty of the kingdom and, as soon as the wedding was over, he lodged his new bride along with Mrigankavati in a well-guarded wing of his house. Thereafter, the twice-married man faithfully departed upon the agreed pilgrimage.

So life went on until there came a night when their servants were asleep outside and Mrigankavati, filled with ennui, whispered to Manahsvamin in their common bedroom: "Tell me a story, sister bride, for I cannot sleep."

The false maiden cunningly told her the legend of King Ila -- how that hero, the scion of the Solar Dynasty, had been cursed by the White Goddess to become a woman who bewitched all the world, and how he and King Budha met by accident, fell in love and wed, and how the hero Pururavas was born from their passion. Manahsvamin concluded his story slyly: "So it may happen once in a while, either at divine command or by the power of magical tokens, that a man becomes a woman and a woman a man. And in any shape that pleases them, the Great Ones enjoy the carnal experiences which spring from their earnest passions."

When the naive young Mrigankavati eard this story she admitted to her companion: "While I was listening to your tale my body began tingling and my heart beat wildly. Why should that be so? Tell me, my friend!"

"Those are the signs of love, my dear!" said the brahmin. "Is this the first time you have felt them?"

Softly Mrigankavati nodded and whispered: "Darling, I trust you more than any other friend. What I am asking you is forbidden, but I must ask it nonetheless: Can you think of some stratagem by which a handsome young man may be smuggled into our rooms?"

Manahsvamin, who had grown faithless to the king's daughter since coming to know the beauteous Mrigankavati, replied: "If that is what you want, I shall tell you something. God Vishnu has granted me a special talent by which I can change myself at will into a man by night. -- And for thy sake, and because I love you, I shall now become a man." He took the bead from his mouth and showed himself in his natural guise -- as handsome and virile a youth as the still-virgin bride had ever hoped to meet. With her inhibitions dispelled by the intimacy she and Manahsvamin had already established, a feast of love was consummated with such zest as suited the midnight hour.

So from that night on, the young brahmin lived happily with the bride of the councilor's son, by day a woman and a man at night. When he knew that the councilor's heir was due to return in a few days, he escaped the house by darkness and eloped with his new bride.

At this point Manahsvamin's teacher Muladeva, who had followed all these strange events by means of his cunning arts, decided that he would play a new and better joke upon everyone involved. Once again he assumed the form of the ancient brahmin, but this time he was accompanied by another pupil, Sasin.

The sorcerer betook himself to King Yasahketu and said, "Your Majesty, I have located my son, he who stands beside me now. I beg you to restore me my daughter-in-law so that the marriage we have planned may be celebrated with all dispatch."

The king, fearing that the brahmin would curse him, took counsel with his wise men and brought back this reply: "Venerable One, due to pressing matters of state, I had to marry your daughter to a wealthy young man of very good family. Forgive me, please! To make up for deed I shall give you my own daughter for your son to wed, and give you much gold also!"

Muladeva, the crafty wizard, feigned indignation and spoke angrily, but finally permitted himself to be persuaded. True to his word, the king bestowed his daughter Moon-Lustre upon Muladeva's pupil, Sasin, the magician's pretended son. Thereupon Muladeva took the pair, who were now bride and groom, back to his own home. But there they met Manahsvamin, who had heard the news of the wedding and was very angry. A contentious argument arose between him and Sasin while Muladeva looked on in amusement.

Manahsvamin declared: "Moon-Lustre should be mine, for I have already married her as a virgin -- which was the intent of both myself and Muladeva when this folly began!"

Sasin gainsaid him: "What has Moon-Lustre to do with you any longer, fool? She is my lawful wife; her own father has married her to me in the presence of the sacred rites!"

"But you have wed her under false pretenses!" declared Manahsvamin.

"Your pretenses were even more false -- and you are greedy besides. You crave two wives while I have none."

And so they clamored without reaching a solution.

"So the story is all but ended," said the vampire to his captor. "Tell me therefore, Your Majesty, when the elders of their clans mediated the dispute, to whom did they decide the princess Moon-Lustre belonged? Was it to whom she loved and chose for herself, or to that one whom she had married with the consent of the father?"

"In my opinion," replied the king, "she belongs fairly to Sasin, for it was to Sasin that the king had given his daughter lawfully and publicly. Manahsvamin had taken her by stealth and married her without ceremony. It has never been the law that the thief is to be considered the owner of the property which he has stolen."

"You are wise, Sire," said the vampire. "Listen and I will tell you yet another story to make you forget your toils."

And so the vampire told story after story, throughout the long night, hoping that the king would grow sleepy and careless, thereby permiting him to escape.

THE END