The Katha Sarit Sagara or Ocean of the Streams of Story Part 59

And one day that merchant's daughter Dhanavati saw him from the top of her palace, such as I have described, with attenuated but handsome frame. Her heart was captivated by his beauty; so she called to mind the injunction of that thief her husband, and artfully said to her mother, who was near her; "Mother, behold the beauty and youth of this young Brahman, how charming they are, raining nectar into the eyes of the whole world." When that merchant's widow heard this, she saw that her daughter was in love with the young Brahman, and she thought thus in her mind; "My daughter is bound by the orders of her husband to choose some man, in order to raise up issue to her husband, so why should she not invite this one?" When she had gone through these reflections, she entrusted her wish to a confidential maid, and sent her to bring the Brahman for her daughter.

The maid went and took that Brahman aside, and communicated her mistress's wish to him, and that young and dissolute Brahman said to her; "If they will give me five hundred gold dinars for Hansavali, I will go there for one night." When he said this to the maid, she went and communicated it to the merchant's widow, and she sent the money to him by her hand. When Manahsvamin had received the money, he went with the maid to the private apartments of the widow's daughter, Dhanavati, who had been made over to him. Then he saw that expectant fair one, the ornament of the earth, as the partridge beholds the moonlight, and rejoiced; and after pa.s.sing the night there, he went away secretly next morning.

And Dhanavati, the merchant's daughter, became pregnant by him, and in due time she brought forth a son, whose auspicious marks foreshadowed his lofty destiny. She and her mother were much pleased at the birth of a son; and then Siva manifested himself to them in a dream by night, and said to them; "Take this boy, as he lies in his cradle, and leave him, with a thousand gold pieces, early in the morning, at the door of king Suryaprabha. In this way all will turn out well." The merchant's widow and the merchant's daughter, having received this command from Siva, woke up, and told one another their dream. And relying upon the G.o.d, they took the boy and the gold, and laid them together at the gate of king Suryaprabha's palace. [376]

In the meanwhile Siva thus commanded in a dream king Suryaprabha, who was tormented with anxiety to obtain a son; "Rise up, king, somebody has placed at the gate of your palace a handsome child and some gold, take him as he lies in his cradle." When Siva had said this to the king, he woke up in the morning, and at that moment the warders came in and told him the same, and so he went out himself, and seeing at the gate of the palace that boy with a heap of gold, and observing that he was of auspicious appearance, having his hands and feet marked with the line, the umbrella, the banner and other marks, he said, "Siva has given me a suitable child," and he himself took him up in his arms, and went into the palace with him. And he made a feast, and gave away an incalculable amount of wealth, so that only the word "poor" was without its proper wealth of signification. And king Suryaprabha spent twelve days in music, and dancing, and other amus.e.m.e.nts, and then he gave that son the name of Chandraprabha.

And gradually prince Chandraprabha increased in stature as well as in excellent character, delighting his dependants by both. And in course of time he grew up, and became capable of bearing the weight of the earth, winning over the subjects by his courage, his generosity, his learning, and other accomplishments. And his father, king Suryaprabha, seeing that he possessed these qualities, appointed him his successor in the kingdom, and being an old man, and having accomplished all his ends in life, he went to Varanasi. And while that son of his, distinguished for policy, was ruling the earth, he abandoned his body at Varanasi, in the performance of severe asceticism.

And that pious king Chandraprabha, hearing of the death of his father, lamented for him, and performed the usual ceremonies, and then said to his ministers, "How can I ever pay my debt to my father? However I will make one recompense to him with my own hand. I will take his bones and duly fling them into the Ganges, and I will go to Gaya, and offer an obsequial cake to all the ancestors, and I will diligently perform a pilgrimage to all sacred waters, as far as the eastern sea." When the king said this, his ministers said to him, "Your majesty, kings ought never to do these things, for sovereignty has many weak points, and cannot subsist a moment without being upheld. So you must pay this debt to your father by the instrumentality of another. What visiting of holy waters, other than the doing of your duty, is inc.u.mbent upon you? Kings, who are ever carefully guarded, have nothing to do with pilgrimage, which is exposed to many dangers." When king Chandraprabha heard this speech of his ministers', he answered them, "Away with doubts and hesitations! I must certainly go for my father's sake; and I must visit the sacred waters, while I am young and strong enough. Who knows what will take place hereafter, for the body perishes in a moment? And you must guard my kingdom until my return." When the ministers heard this resolve of the king's, they remained silent. So the king got ready all the requisites for the journey. Then, on an auspicious day, the king bathed, made offerings to the fire, gave complimentary presents to Brahmans, and ascended a chariot to which the horses were yoked, subdued in spirit and wearing the dress of an ascetic, [377] and started on his pilgrimage. With difficulty did he induce the feudal chiefs, the Rajputs, the citizens, and the country people, who followed him as far as the frontier, to return, much against their will; and so, throwing the burden of his realm upon his ministers, king Chandraprabha set out in the company of his private chaplain, attended by Brahmans in chariots. He was diverted by beholding various garbs, and hearing various languages, and by the other distractions of travel, and so seeing on his way all kinds of countries, in course of time he reached the Ganges. And he gazed upon that river, which seemed with the ridges of its waves to be making a ladder for mortals to ascend into heaven by; and which might be said to imitate Ambika, since it sprang from the mountain Himavat, and playfully pulled in its course the hair of Siva, and was wors.h.i.+pped by the divine Ris.h.i.+s and the Ganas. So he descended from his chariot, and bathed in that river, and threw into it in accordance with pious custom the bones of king Suryaprabha.

And after he had given gifts and performed the sraddha, he ascended the chariot, and set out, and in course of time reached Prayaga [378]

celebrated by ris.h.i.+s, where the meeting streams of the Ganges and Yamuna gleam for the welfare of men, like the line of flame and the line of smoke of the sacrificial b.u.t.ter blending together. There king Chandraprabha fasted, and performed with various pious actions, such as bathing, distribution of wealth, and so on, the solemn ceremony of the sraddha, and then he went on to Varanasi, which seemed by the silken banners of its temples, tossed up and down by gusts of wind, to cry out from afar, "Come and attain salvation."

In that city he fasted for three days, and then wors.h.i.+pped Siva with various meat-offerings, as became his own rank, and then set out for Gaya. As he travelled through the woods, the trees, which were bent down by the weight of their fruit, and in which the birds were sweetly singing, seemed at every step to be bowing before him and praising him at the same time; and the winds, throwing about the woodland flowers, seemed to honour him with posies. And so he crossed the forest districts and reached the sacred hill of Gaya. [379]

And there he duly performed a sraddha, in which he bestowed many gifts on Brahmans, and then he entered the Holy Wood. And while he was offering the sacrificial cake to his father in the well of Gaya, there rose out of it three human hands to take the cake. When the king saw this, he was bewildered, and said to his own Brahmans; "What does this mean? Into which hand am I to put the cake?" They said to him, "King, this hand in which an iron spike is seen, is certainly the hand of a thief; and this second hand, which holds a colander, [380] is the hand of a Brahman; and this third hand, which has the ring and the auspicious marks, is the hand of a king. So we do not know into which hand the sacrificial cake is to be put, or what all this means." When the Brahmans said this to the king, he was unable to arrive at any certain decision.

When the Vetala, on the shoulder of the king, had told this wonderful tale, he said to king Trivikramasena, "Now into whose hand should the cake have been put? Let your Highness tell me that; and remember the previous condition is still binding on you."

When king Trivikramasena, who was well versed in law, heard this from the Vetala, he broke silence, and answered him; "The sacrificial cake should have been placed in the hand of the thief, for king Chandraprabha was his son, raised up to him by his appointment, and he was not the son of either of the other two. For though the Brahman begot him, he cannot be considered his father, as he sold himself for money for that one night. However he might have been considered the son of king Suryaprabha, because he had the sacraments performed for him, and brought him up, if the king had not received his wealth for the purpose. For the gold, which was placed at the head of the child in the cradle, was the price paid to king Suryaprabha for bringing him up, and other services. Accordingly king Chandraprabha was the son, begotten by another man, of that thief, who received his mother with the pouring of water over the hands, who gave the order for his being begotten, and to whom all that wealth belonged; and he ought to have placed the sacrificial cake in the thief's hand; this is my opinion."

When the king said this, the Vetala left his shoulder, and went to his own place, and king Trivikramasena again went after him to bring him back.

NOTE.

It appears from the a.n.a.lysis which Oesterley gives of the Sanskrit original by Sivadasa, that the Hindi version resembles more nearly the version in the text. In the Sanskrit original there is no touching of the thief; Dhanavati of her own accord enters into a conversation with him. The advice to expose the child at the king's door is given by the grandmother, after hearing the daughter's dream. The king does not fetch the boy himself, but has him brought.

CHAPTER XCIV.

(Vetala 20.)

Then king Trivikramasena went and took down that Vetala from the asoka-tree, and putting him on his shoulder, started off with him again. And when he had set out in silence, the Vetala spake to him from his shoulder; "King, what is the meaning of this persistency of yours? Go, enjoy the good of the night; it is not fitting that you should carry me to that wicked mendicant. However, if you are obstinately bent on it, so be it; but listen to this one story."

Story of the Brahman boy, who offered himself up to save the life of the king.

There is a city called Chitrakuta, [381] rightly so named, where the established divisions of the castes never step across the strict line of demarcation. In it there lived a king, named Chandravaloka, the crest-jewel of kings, who rained showers of nectar into the eyes of those devoted to him. Wise men praised him as the binding-post of the elephant of valour, the fountain-head of generosity, and the pleasure-pavilion of beauty. There was one supreme sorrow in the heart of that young prince, that, though he enjoyed all kinds of prosperity, he could not obtain a suitable wife.

Now, one day, the king, accompanied by mounted attendants, went out to a great forest to hunt, in order to dispel that sorrow. There he cleft with continual shafts the herds of wild swine, as the sun, s.h.i.+ning in the dun sky, [382] disperses the darkness with his rays. Surpa.s.sing Arjuna in strength, he made the lions, impetuous in fight, and terrible with their yellow manes, repose upon beds of arrows. Like Indra in might, he stripped of their wings [383] the mountain-like Sarabhas, and laid them low with the blows of his darts hard as the thunder-bolt. In the ardour of the chase he felt a longing to penetrate into the centre of the wood alone, so he urged on his horse with a smart blow of his heel. The horse, being exceedingly excited by that blow of his heel, and by a stroke of the whip, cared neither for rough nor smooth, but darting on with a speed exceeding that of the wind, in a moment traversed ten yojanas, and carried the king, the functions of whose senses were quite paralysed, to another forest.

There the horse stopped, and the king, having lost his bearings, roamed about wearied, until he saw near him a broad lake, which seemed to make signs to him to approach with its lotuses, that, bent down towards him and then raised again by the wind, seemed like beckoning hands. [384] So he went up to it, and relieved his horse by taking off its saddle and letting it roll, and bathed and watered it, and then tied it up in the shade of a tree, and gave it a heap of gra.s.s. Then he bathed himself, and drank water, and so dispelled his fatigue, and then he let his eye wander hither and thither in the delightful environs of the lake. And in one part he saw, at the foot of an asoka-tree, a wonderfully beautiful hermit's daughter, accompanied by her friend. She wore garlands of flowers, and a dress of bark, which became her well. And she looked exceedingly charming on account of the elegant way in which her hair was plaited together after the hermit fas.h.i.+on. And the king, who had now fallen within the range of the arrows of love, said to himself; "Who can this be? Can it be Savitri come to bathe in the lake? Or can it be Gauri, who has slipped away from the arms of Siva, and again betaken herself to asceticism? Or can it be the beauty of the moon that has taken upon herself a vow, as the moon has set, now that it is day? So I had better approach her quietly and find out." Having thus reflected, the king approached that maiden.

But when she saw him coming, her eyes were bewildered by his beauty, and her hand relaxed its grasp on the garland of flowers, which she had before begun to weave, and she said to herself; "Who is this that has found his way into such a wood as this? Is he a Siddha or a Vidyadhara? In truth his beauty might satisfy the eyes of the whole world." When these thoughts had pa.s.sed through her mind, she rose up, and modestly looking askance at him she proceeded to go away, though her legs seemed to want all power of movement.

Then the polite and dexterous monarch approached her and said, "Fair one, I do not ask you to welcome and entertain a person seen for the first time, who has come from a distance, and desires no fruit other than that of beholding you; but how is your running away from him to be reconciled with the obligations of hermit life?" When the king said this, the lady's attendant, who was equally dexterous, sat down there, and entertained the king.

Then the eager king said to her with an affectionate manner, "Worthy lady, what auspicious family is adorned by this friend of yours? What are the ear-nectar-distilling syllables of her name? And why does she torture in this wilderness, with the discipline appropriate to ascetics, her body, which is soft as a flower?" When her friend heard this speech of the king's, she answered; "This is the maiden daughter of the great hermit Kanva, born to him by Menaka; she has been brought up in the hermitage, and her name is Indivaraprabha. She has come here to bathe in this lake by permission of her father, and her father's hermitage is at no great distance from this place."

When she said this to the king, he was delighted, and he mounted his horse, and set out for the hermitage of the hermit Kanva, with the intention of asking him for that daughter of his. He left his horse outside the hermitage, and then he entered with modest humility its enclosure, which was full of hermits with matted hair, and coats of bark, thus resembling in appearance its trees. And in the middle of it he saw the hermit Kanva surrounded with hermits, delighting the eye with his brightness, like the moon surrounded with planets. So he went up to him, and wors.h.i.+pped him, embracing his feet. The wise hermit entertained him and dispelled his fatigue, and then lost no time in saying to him; "My son Chandravaloka, listen to the good advice which I am about to give you. You know how all living creatures in the world fear death: so why do you slay without cause these poor deer? The Disposer appointed the weapon of the warrior for the protection of the terrified. So rule your subjects righteously, root up your enemies, and secure fleeting fortune and her gifts by the warlike training of horse, and elephant, and so on. Enjoy the delights of rule, give gifts, diffuse your fame throughout the world, but abandon the vice of hunting, the cruel sport of death. What is the profit of that mischievous hunting, in which slayer, victim, and horse [385] are all equally beside themselves? Have you have not heard what happened to Pandu?"

The intelligent king, Chandravaloka, heard and accepted cheerfully this advice of the hermit Kanva, and then answered him, "Reverend Sir, I have been instructed by you; you have done me a great favour; I renounce hunting, let living creatures be henceforth free from alarm." When the hermit heard that, he said, "I am pleased with you for thus granting security to living creatures; so choose whatever boon you desire." When the hermit said this, the king, who knew his time, said to him, "If you are satisfied with me, then give me your daughter Indivaraprabha." When the king made this request, the hermit bestowed on him his daughter, who had just returned from bathing, born from an Apsaras, a wife meet for him. Then the wives of the hermits adorned her, and the marriage was solemnized, and king Chandravaloka mounted his horse and set out thence quickly, taking with him his wife, whom the ascetics followed as far as the limits of the hermitage with gus.h.i.+ng tears. And as he went along, the sun, seeing that the action of that day had been prolonged, [386] sat down, as if wearied, on the peak of the mountain of setting. And in course of time appeared the gazelle-eyed nymph of night, overflowing with love, veiling her shape in a violet robe of darkness.

Just at that moment the king found on the road an asvattha-tree, on the bank of a lake, the water of which was as transparent as a good man's heart. And seeing that that spot was overshadowed with dense boughs and leaves, and was shady and gra.s.sy, he made up his mind that he would pa.s.s the night there. Then he dismounted from his horse, and gave it gra.s.s and water, and rested on the sandy bank of the lake, and drank water, and cooled himself in the breeze; and then he lay down with that hermit's daughter, under that tree, on a bed of flowers. And at that time the moon arose, and removing the mantle of darkness, seized and kissed the glowing face of the East. And all the quarters of the heaven were free from darkness, and gleamed, embraced and illuminated by the rays of the moon, so that there was no room for pride. [387] And so the beams of the moon entered the interstices in the bower of creepers, and lit up the s.p.a.ce round the foot of the tree like jewel-lamps.

And the next morning the king left his bed, and after the morning prayer, he made ready to set out with his wife to rejoin his army. And then the moon, that had in the night robbed the cheeks of the lotuses of their beauty, lost its brightness, and slunk, as if in fear, to the hollows of the western mountain; for the sun, fiery-red with anger, as if desirous to slay it, lifted his curved sword in his outstretched fingers. [388] At that moment there suddenly came there a Brahman demon, black as soot, with hair yellow as the lightning, looking like a thunder-cloud. He had made himself a wreath of entrails; he wore a sacrificial cord of hair; he was gnawing the flesh of a man's head, and drinking blood out of a skull. The monster, terrible with projecting tusks, uttered a horrible loud laugh, and vomiting fire with rage, menaced the king in the following words, "Villain! know that I am a Brahman demon, Jvalamukha by name, and this asvattha-tree my dwelling is not trespa.s.sed upon even by G.o.ds, but thou hast presumed to occupy and enjoy it with thy wife. So receive from me, returned from my nightly wanderings, the fruit of thy presumption. I, even I, O wicked one, will tear out and devour the heart of thee, whose mind love has overpowered, aye, and I will drink thy blood."

When the king heard this dreadful threat, and saw that his wife was terrified, knowing that the monster was invulnerable, he humbly said to him in his terror, "Pardon the sin which I have ignorantly committed against you, for I am a guest come to this your hermitage, imploring your protection. And I will give you what you desire, by bringing a human victim, whose flesh will glut your appet.i.te; so be appeased, and dismiss your anger." When the Brahman demon heard this speech of the king's, he was pacified, and said to himself, "So be it! That will do." Then he said to the king, "I will overlook the insult you have offered me on the following conditions. You must find a Brahman boy, who, though seven years old and intelligent, is of so n.o.ble a character that he is ready to offer himself for your sake. And his mother and father must place him on the earth, and hold him firmly by the hands and feet, while he is being sacrificed. And when you have found such a human victim, you must yourself slay him with a sword-stroke, and so offer him up to me on the seventh day from this. If you comply with these conditions, well and good; but, if not, king, I will in a moment destroy you and all your court." When the king heard this, in his terror he agreed at once to the conditions proposed, and the Brahman demon immediately disappeared.

Then king Chandravaloka mounted his horse, and set out with Indivaraprabha in quest of his army, in a state of the utmost despondency. He said to himself, "Alas! I, bewildered by hunting and love, have suddenly incurred destruction like Pandu; [389] fool that I am! For whence can I obtain for this Rakshasa a victim, such as he has described? So I will go in the meantime to my own town, and see what will happen." While thus reflecting, he met his own army, that had come in search of him, and with that and his wife he entered his city of Chitrakuta. Then the whole kingdom rejoiced, when they saw that he had obtained a suitable wife, but the king pa.s.sed the rest of the day in suppressed sorrow.

The next day he communicated to his ministers in secret all that had taken place, and a discreet minister among them said to him, "Do not be downcast, king, for I will search for and bring you such a victim, for the earth contains many marvels."

When the minister had consoled the king in these words, he had made with the utmost rapidity a golden image of a seven-years-old child, and he adorned its ears with jewels, and placed it on a chariot, and had it carried about in the towns, villages, and stations of herdsmen. And while that image of a child was being carried about, the minister had the following proclamation continually made in front of it, with beat of drum; "If a Brahman boy of seven years old will willingly offer himself to a Brahman demon for the good of the community, and if his mother and father will permit the brave boy to offer himself, and will hold his hands and feet while he is being slain, the king will give to that boy, who is so eager to benefit his parents as to comply with these conditions, this image of gold and gems, together with a hundred villages."

Now it happened that a certain seven-years-old Brahman boy, living on a royal grant to Brahmans, who was of great courage and admirable character, heard this proclamation. Even in his childhood this boy had always taken pleasure in benefiting his fellow-men, as he had practised that virtue in a former life; in fact he seemed like the ripe result of the merits of the king's subjects incarnate in bodily form. So he came and said to the men who were making this proclamation, "I will offer myself up for your good; but first, I will go and inform my parents; then I will return to you." When he said this to them, they were delighted, and they let him go. So he went home, and folding his hands in an att.i.tude of supplication, he said to his parents; "I wish to offer for the good of the community this perishable body of mine; so permit me to do so, and put an end to your poverty. For if I do so, the king will give me this image of myself, made of gold and gems, together with a hundred villages, and on receiving them, I will make them over to you. In this way I shall pay my debt to you, and at the same time benefit my fellow-men; and your poverty will be at an end, and you will have many sons to replace me."

As soon as he had said this, his parents answered him; "What is this that you say, son? Are you distracted with wind? Or are you planet-struck? Unless you are one of these, how could you talk in this wild way? Who would cause his son's death for the sake of wealth? What child would sacrifice its body?" When the boy heard this speech of his parents, he rejoined; "I do not speak from a disordered intellect; hear my speech, which is full of sense. This body, which is full of indescribable impurities, which is loathsome by its very birth, and the abode of pain, will soon perish [390] anyhow. So wise men say that the only solid and permanent thing in a fleeting universe is that merit which is acquired by means of this very frail and perishable body. [391] And what greater merit can there be than the benefiting of all creatures? So, if I do not show devotion to my parents, what fruit shall I reap from my body?" By this speech and others of the same kind the resolute boy induced his weeping parents to consent to his wish. And he went to the king's servants, and obtained from them that golden image, together with a grant of a hundred villages, and gave them to his parents. Then he made the king's servants precede him, and went quickly, accompanied by his parents, to the king in Chitrakuta. Then king Chandravaloka, beholding arrived the boy, whose courage [392] was so perfect, and who thus resembled a bright protecting talisman, was exceedingly delighted. So he had him adorned with garlands, and anointed with unguents, and putting him on the back of an elephant, he took him with his parents to the abode of the Brahman demon.

Then the chaplain drew a circle near the asvattha-tree, and performed the requisite rites, and made an oblation to the fire. And then the Brahman demon Jvalamukha appeared, uttering a loud laugh, and reciting the Vedas. His appearance was very terrible; he was drunk with a full draught of blood, yawning, and panting frequently; his eyes blazed, and he darkened the whole horizon with the shadow of his body. Then king Chandravaloka, beholding him, bent before him, and said; "Adorable one, I have brought you this human sacrifice, and it is now the seventh day, gentle Sir, since I promised it you; so be propitious, receive this sacrifice, as is due." When the king made this request, the Brahman demon looked at the Brahman boy, licking the corners of his mouth with his tongue. [393]

At that moment the n.o.ble boy, in his joy, said to himself, "Let not the merit, which I acquire by this sacrifice of my body, gain for me heaven, or even a salvation which involves no benefits to others, but may I be privileged to offer up my body for the benefit of others in birth after birth!" While he was forming this aspiration, the heaven was suddenly filled with the chariots of the heavenly host, who rained flowers.

Then the boy was placed in front of the Brahman demon, and his mother took hold of his hands and his father of his feet. Then the king drew his sword, and prepared to slay him; but at that moment the child laughed so loudly, that all there, the Brahman demon included, abandoned the occupation in which they were engaged, and in their astonishment put their palms together, and bowing, looked at his face.

When the Vetala had told this entertaining and romantic tale, he once more put a question to king Trivikramasena; "So tell me, king, what was the reason that the boy laughed in such an awful moment as that of his own death? I feel great curiosity to know it, so, if you know, and do not tell me, your head shall split into a hundred pieces."

When the king heard this from the Vetala, he answered him, "Hear what was the meaning of that child's laugh. It is well known that a weak creature, when danger comes upon it, calls upon its father or mother to save its life. And if its father and mother be gone, it invokes the protection of the king who is appointed to succour the afflicted, and if it cannot obtain the aid of the king, it calls upon the deity under whose special protection it is. Now, in the case of that child, all those were present, and all behaved in exactly the opposite manner to what might have been expected of them. The child's parents held its hands and feet out of greed of gain, and the king was eager to slay it, to save his own life, and the Brahman demon, its protecting deity, was ready to devour it. The child said to itself; 'To think that these should be thus deluded, being led so much astray for the sake of the body, which is perishable, loathsome within, and full of pain and disease. Why should they have such a strange longing for the continuance of the body, in a world in which Brahma, Indra, Vishnu, Siva, and the other G.o.ds must certainly perish.' Accordingly the Brahman boy laughed out of joy and wonder, joy at feeling that he had accomplished his object, and wonder at beholding the marvellous strangeness of their delusion."

When the king had said this, he ceased, and the Vetala immediately left his shoulder, and went back to his own place, disappearing by his magic power. But the king, without hesitating for a moment, rapidly pursued him; the hearts of great men, as of great seas, are firm and unshaken.

NOTE.

Oesterley (p. 210) tells us that a boy is in the same way sold to a king as a victim in the 32nd tale of the Turkish collection of tales, called "The Forty Viziers." When the king is about to rip up the child's body, the child laughs for the same reason as in our text. The cause of the sacrifice is however different. The king is to be healed by placing his feet in the body of a boy.

The promise of a golden image to any one who is willing to sacrifice his life is also found in the Bengali edition of the Sinhasana-dvatrinsati. A rich man makes a golden image, with an inscription on it to the effect that whoever is willing to sacrifice his life shall have it. Vikramaditya goes to the place disguised, and cuts off his head, but the G.o.ddess heals him, (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 109.)