Inspired by this circumstance with a happy thought, Râjavâhana said to
the princess, "Will you allow me to tell you a short story? There was
formerly a king called Samba. When walking one day together with his
beloved wife at the side of a small lake in the pleasure-grounds, he
saw a swan asleep, just under the bank. Having caught it, he tied its
legs together, put it down again on the ground, and saying to his
wife, 'This bird sits as quiet as a muni; let him go where he likes,'
amused himself with laughing at its awkward attempts to walk. Then the
swan suddenly spoke: 'O king, though in the form of a swan, I am a
devout brahman; and since you have thus, without cause, ill-treated me
while sitting quiet here, engaged in meditation, I lay my curse upon
you, and you shall endure the pain of separation from your beloved
wife.'

"Hearing this, the king, alarmed and distressed, bowed respectfully to
the ground, and said, 'O mighty sage, forgive an act done through
ignorance.'

"Then that holy person, having his anger appeased, answered, 'My words
cannot be made of no effect. I will, however, so far modify the curse
that it will not take place during your present existence; but in a
future birth, when you are united to the same lady in another body,
you must endure the misery of separation from her for two months,
though you will afterwards enjoy very great happiness with her; and I
will also confer on you both the power of recognising each other in
your next existence,'--I beg of you therefore not to tie this bird
which you were wishing to catch."

The princess, hearing this story, was quite ready to believe it; and
from her own feelings was convinced that it really referred to a