There is in this country a city named Mathura, the birthplace of Krishna; in it there was a courtesan known by the name of Rupinika; she had for a mother an old bawd named Makaradanshtra, who seemed a lump of poison in the eyes of the young men attracted by her daughter's charms. One day Rupinika went at the time of worship to the temple to perform her duty, and beheld from a distance a young man. When she saw that handsome young fellow, he made such an impression upon her heart that all her mother's instructions vanished from it. Then she said to her maid: "Go and tell this man from me that he is to come to my house to-day." The maid said, "So I will," and immediately went and told him. Then the man thought a little and said to her: "I am a Brahman named Lohajangha. I have no wealth; then what business have I in the house of Rupinika, which is only to be entered by the rich?" The maid said: "My mistress does not desire wealth from you." Whereupon Lohajangha consented to do as she wished. When she heard that from the maid, Rupinika went home in a state of excitement, and remained with her eyes fixed on the path by which he would come. And soon Lohajangha came to her house, while the bawd Makaradanshtra looked at him, and wondered where he came from. Rupinika for her part, when she saw him, rose up to meet him herself with the utmost respect, and clinging to his neck in her joy led him to her own private apartments. Then she was captivated with Lohajangha's wealth of accomplishments, and considered that she had been only born to love him. So she avoided the society of other men, and that young fellow lived with her in her house in great comfort.

        Rupinika's mother Makaradanshtra, who had trained up many courtesans, was annoyed when she saw this, and said to her in private: "My daughter, why do you associate with a poor man? Courtesans of good taste embrace a corpse in preference to a poor man. What business has a courtesan like you with affection? How have you come to forget that great principle? The light of a red sunset lasts but a short time, and so does the splendour of a courtesan who gives way to affection. A courtesan, like an actress, should exhibit an assumed affection in order to get wealth; so forsake this pauper, do not ruin yourself." When she heard this speech of her mother's, Rupinika said in a rage: "Do not talk in this way, for I love him more than my life. And as for wealth, I have plenty, what do I want with more? So you must not speak to me again, mother, in this way." When she heard this, Makaradanshtra was in a rage, and she remained thinking over some device for getting rid of this Lohajangha. Then she saw coming along the road a certain Rajput, who had spent all his wealth, surrounded by retainers with swords in their hands. So she went up to him quickly and, taking him aside, said: "My house is beset by a certain poor lover. So come there yourself today, and take such order with him that he shall depart from my house, and do you possess my daughter." "Agreed," said the Rajput, and entered that house.

        At that precise moment Rupinika was in the temple, and Lohajangha meanwhile was absent somewhere, and, suspecting nothing, he returned to the house a moment afterwards. Immediately the retainers of the Rajput ran upon him, and gave him severe kicks and blows on all his limbs, and then they threw him into a ditch full of all kinds of impurities, and Lohajangha with difficulty escaped from it. Then Rupinika returned to the house, and when she heard what had taken place she was distracted with grief, so the Rajput, seeing that, returned as he came.

        Lohajangha, after suffering this brutal outrage by the machinations of the bawd, set out for some holy place of pilgrimage, in order to leave his life there, now that he was separated from his beloved. As he was going along in the wild country, with his heart burning with anger against the bawd, and his skin with the heat of the summer, he longed for shade. Not being able to find a tree, he lighted on the body of an elephant which had been stripped of all its flesh by jackals making their way into it by the hindquarters; accordingly Lohajangha, being worn out, crept into this carcass, which was a mere shell, as only the skin remained, and went to sleep in it, as it was kept cool by the breeze which freely entered. Then suddenly clouds arose from all sides and began to pour down a pelting shower of rain; that rain made the elephant's skin contract so that no aperture was left, and immediately a copious inundation came that way, and carrying off the elephant's hide swept it into the Ganges, so that eventually the inundation bore it into the sea. And there a bird of the race of Garuda saw that hide and, supposing it to be carrion, took it to the other side of the sea; there it tore open the elephant's hide with its claws and, seeing that there was a man inside it, fled away. But Lohajangha was awaked by the bird's pecking and scratching, and came out through the aperture made by its beak. And finding that he was on the other side of the sea, he was astonished, and looked upon the whole thing as a daydream; then he saw there to his terror two horrible Rakshasas, and those two for their part contemplated him from a distance with feelings of fear. Remembering how they were defeated by Rama, and seeing that Lohajangha was also a  man who had crossed the sea, they were once more alarmed in their hearts. So, after they had deliberated together, one of them went off immediately and told the whole occurrence to King Vibhishana. King Vibhishana, too, as he had seen the prowess of Rama, being terrified at the arrival of a man, said to that Rakshasa: "Go, my good friend, and tell that man from me, in a friendly manner, that he is to do me the favour of coming to my palace." The Rakshasa said, "I will do so," and timidly approached Lohajangha, and told him that request of his sovereign's. Lohajangha for his part accepted that invitation with unruffled calm, and went to Lanka with that Rakshasa as his companion. And when he arrived in Lanka he was astonished at beholding numerous splendid edifices of gold, and entering the king's palace he saw Vibhishana.

        The king welcomed the Brahman, who blessed him in return, and then Vibhishana said: "Brahman, how did you manage to reach this country?" Then the cunning Lohajangha said to Vibhishana: "I am a Brahman of the name of Lohajangha residing in Mathura; and I, Lohajangha, being afflicted at my poverty, went to the temple of the god, and remaining fasting, for a long time performed austerities in the presence of Narayana. Then the adorable Hari commanded me in a dream, saying: 'Go thou to Vibhishana, for he is a faithful worshipper of mine, and he will give thee wealth.' Then I said: 'Vibhishana is where I cannot reach him.' But the lord continued: 'To-day shalt thou see that Vibhishana.' So the lord spake to me, and immediately I woke up and found myself upon this side of the sea. I know no more." When Vibhishana heard this from Lohajangha, reflecting that Larika was a difficult place to reach, he thought to himself: "Of a truth this man possesses divine power." And he said to that Brahman: "Remain here; I will give you wealth." Then he committed him to the care of the man-slaying Rakshasas as an inviolable deposit, and sent some of his subjects to a mountain in his kingdom called Swarnamula, who brought from it a young bird belonging to the race of Garuda; and he gave it to that Lohajangha (who had to take a long journey to Mathura) to ride upon, in order that he might in the meanwhile break it in. Lohajangha for his part mounted on its back, and riding about on it in Lanka, rested there for some time, being hospitably entertained by Vibhishana.

        One day he asked the King of the Rakshasas, feeling curiosity on the point, why the whole ground of Lanka was made of wood; and Vibhishana, when he heard that, explained the circumstance to him, saying: "Brahman, if you take any interest in this matter, listen, I will explain it to you. Long ago Garuda, the son of Kashyapa, wishing to redeem his mother from her slavery to the snakes, to whom she had been subjected in accordance with an agreement, and preparing to obtain from the gods the nectar which was the price of her ransom, wanted to eat something which would increase his strength, and so he went to his father, who, being importuned, said to him: 'My son, in the sea there is a huge elephant and a huge tortoise. They have assumed their present form in consequence of a curse: go and eat them.' Then Garuda went and brought them both to eat, and then perched on a bough of the great wishing-tree of paradise. And when that bough suddenly broke with his weight, he held it up with his beak, out of regard to the Balakhilyas who were engaged in austerities underneath it. Then Garuda, afraid that the bough would crush mankind if he let it fall at random, by the advice of his father brought the bough to this uninhabited part of the earth and let it drop. Lanka was built on the top of that bough, therefore the ground here is of wood." When he heard this from Vibhishana, Lohajangha was perfectly satisfied.

        Then Vibhishana gave to Lohajangha many valuable jewels, as he desired to set out for Mathura. And out of his devotion to the god Vishnu, who dwells at Mathura, he entrusted to the care of Lohajangha a lotus, a club, a shell, and a discus all of gold, to be offered to the god. Lohajangha took all these and mounted the bird given to him by Vibhishana, that could accomplish a hundred thousand yojanas, and rising up into the air in Lanka, he crossed the sea and without any difficulty arrived at Mathura. And there he descended from the air into an empty convent outside the town, and deposited there his abundant treasure, and tied up that bird. And then he went into the market and sold one of his jewels, and bought garments and scented unguents, and also food. And he ate the food in that convent where he was, and gave some to his bird; and he adorned himself with the garments, unguents, flowers and other decorations. And when night came he mounted that same bird and gent to the house of Rupinika, bearing in his hand the shell, discus and mace; then he hovered over it in the air, knowing the place well, and made a low, deep sound to attract the attention of his beloved, who was alone. But Rupinika, as soon as she heard that sound, came out, and saw hovering in the air by night a being like Narayana, gleaming with jewels. He said to her: "I am Hari come hither for thy sake"; whereupon she bowed with her face to the earth and said: "May the god have mercy upon me. Then Lohajangha descended and tied up his bird, and entered the private apartments of his beloved hand in hand with her. And after remaining there a short time he came out and, mounting the bird as before, went off through the air.

        In the morning Rupinika remained observing an obstinate silence, thinking to herself: "I am the wife of the god Vishnu, I must cease to converse with mortals." And then her mother Makaradanshtra said to her: "Why do you behave in this way my daughter?" And after she had been perseveringly questioned by her mother, she caused to be put up a curtain between herself and her parent, and told her what had taken place in the night, which was the cause of her silence. When the bawd heard that, she felt doubt on the subject, but soon after, at night, she saw that very Lohajangha mounted on the bird, and in the morning Makaradanshtra came secretly to Rupinika, who still remained behind the curtain, and inclining herself humbly, preferred to her this request: "Through the favour of the god, thou, my daughter, hast obtained here on earth the rank of a goddess, and I am thy mother in this world, therefore grant me a reward for giving thee birth: entreat the god that, old as I am, with this very body I may enter paradise. Do me this favour."

        Rupinika consented, and requested that very boon from Lohajangha, who came again at night disguised as Vishnu. Then Lohajangha, who was personating the god, said to that beloved of his: "Thy mother is a wicked woman, it would not be fitting to take her openly to paradise; but on the morning of the eleventh day the door of heaven is opened, and many of the Ganas, Siva's companions, enter into it before anyone else is admitted. Among them I will introduce this mother of thine, if she assume their appearance. So shave her head with a razor, in such a manner that five locks shall be left, put a necklace of skulls round her neck, and stripping off her clothes, paint one side of her body with lampblack and the other with red lead, for when she has in this way been made to resemble a Gana, I shall find it an easy matter to get her into heaven." When he had said this, Lohajangha remained a short time and then departed. And in the morning Rupinika attired her mother as he had directed; and then she remained with her mind entirely fixed on paradise. So when night came Lohajangha appeared again, and Rupinika handed over her mother to him. Then he mounted on the bird, and took the bawd with him naked, and transformed as he had directed, and he flew up rapidly with her into the air. While he was in the air, he beheld a lofty stone pillar in front of a temple, with a discus on its summit. So he placed her on the top of the pillar, with the discus as her only support, and there she hung like a banner to blazon forth his revenge for his ill usage. He said to her: "Remain here a moment while I bless the earth with my approach," and vanished from her sight. Then beholding a number of people in front of the temple, who had come there to spend the night in devout vigils before the festive procession, he called aloud from the air: "Hear, ye people, this very day there shall fall upon you here the all-destroying Goddess of Pestilence, therefore fly to Hari for protection." When they heard this voice from the air all the inhabitants of Mathura who were there, being terrified, implored the protection of the god, and remained devoutly muttering prayers to ward off the calamity. Lohajangha for his part descended from the air and encouraged them to pray, and after changing that dress of his came and stood among the people, without being observed. 

        The bawd thought as she sat upon the top of the pillar: "The god has not come as yet, and I have not reached heaven." At last, feeling it impossible to remain up there any longer, she cried out in her fear, so that the people below heard: "Alas ! I am falling, I am falling." Hearing that, the people in front of the god's temple were beside themselves, fearing that the destroying goddess was falling upon them, even as had been foretold, and said: "O goddess, do not fall, do not fall." So those people of Mathura, young and old, spent that night in perpetual dread that the destroying goddess would fall upon them, but at last it came to an end; and then beholding that bawd upon the pillar in the state described, the citizens and the king recognized her at once. All the people thereupon forgot their alarm and burst out laughing, and Rupinika herself at last arrived, having heard of the occurrence. And when she saw it she was abashed, and with the help of the people who were there she managed to get that mother of hers down from the top of the pillar immediately. Then that bawd was asked by all the people there, who were filled with curiosity, to tell them the whole story, and she did so. Thereupon the king, the Brahmans and the merchants, thinking that that laughable incident must have been brought about by a sorcerer or some person of that description, made a proclamation, that whoever had made a fool of the bawd, who had deceived innumerable lovers, was to show himself, and he would receive a turban of honour on the spot. When he heard that, Lohajangha made himself known to those present, and, being questioned, he related the whole story from its commencement. And he offered to the god the discus, shell, club and lotus of gold, the present which Vibhishana had sent, and which aroused the astonishment of the people. Then all the people of Mathura, being pleased, immediately invested him with a turban of honour, and by the command of the king made that Rupinika a free woman. And then Lohajangha, having wreaked upon the bawd his wrath caused by her ill usage of him, lived in great comfort in Mathura with that beloved of his, being very well off by means of the large stock of jewels which he had brought from Lanka.

        Hearing this tale from the mouth of the transformed Vasantaka, Vasavadatta, who was sitting at the side of the fettered King of Vatsa, felt extreme delight in her heart.       

From: Somadeva Bhatta, The Ocean of Story.  Vol. I.  Translated by C. H. Tawney.  Edited by N. M. Penzer.  London: Privately printed, 1924, 138-149.