Volume 2 / Book 12 — Chapter XCIII. (Vetála 19.)

Then king Trivikramasena again went and took the Vetála from the aśoka-tree, and putting him on his shoulder, set out with him; and as he was returning from the tree, the Vetála once more said to him, “Listen, king, I will tell you a delightful tale.”

Story of the Thief’s Son.

Then, all the horizon being lighted up, the thief saw the merchant’s daughter, the maiden Dhanavatí, and said to her mother, “Listen to one request of mine; I will give you a thousand pieces of gold; come, give me this maiden daughter of yours to wife.” She laughed, and said, “What do you want with her?” Then the thief replied, “I am now as good as dead, and I have no son; and you know, a sonless man does not inherit the worlds of bliss. But, if you agree to my proposal, whatever son she may give birth to by my appointment, whoever may be his father, will be the issue raised up to me. This is the reason why I ask for her, but do you accomplish that desire of mine.” When the merchant’s widow heard this, she consented to it out of avarice. And she brought water from somewhere or other, and poured it on the hand of that thief, and said, “I give you this my maiden daughter in marriage.”

He then gave to her daughter the command aforesaid, and then said to the merchant’s widow, “Go and dig at the foot of this banyan-tree, and take the gold you find there; and when I am dead, have my body burnt with the usual ceremonies, and throw my bones into some sacred water, and go with your daughter to the city of Vakrolaka. There the people are made happy by good government under king Súryaprabha, and you will be able to live as you like, free from anxiety, as you will not be persecuted.” When the thief had said this, being thirsty, he drank some water which she brought; and his life came to an end, spent with the torture of impalement.

Then the merchant’s widow went and took the gold from the foot of the banyan-tree, and went secretly with her daughter to the house of a friend of her husband’s; and while she was there, she managed to get that thief’s body duly burnt, and had his bones thrown into a sacred water, and all the other rites performed. And the next day she took that concealed wealth, and went off with her daughter, and travelling along reached in course of time that city Vakrolaka. There she bought a house from a great merchant named Vasudatta, and lived in it with her daughter Dhanavatí.

Now at that time there lived in that city a teacher of the name of Vishṇusvámin. And he had a pupil, a very handsome Bráhman of the name of Manaḥsvámin. And he, though he was of high birth and well-educated, was so enslaved by the passions of youth that he fell in love with a hetæra of the name of Hansávalí. But she demanded a fee of five hundred gold dínárs, and he did not possess this sum, so he was in a state of perpetual despondency.

And one day that merchant’s daughter Dhanavatí 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 Bráhman, 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 Bráhman, 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 Bráhman for her daughter.

The maid went and took that Bráhman aside, and communicated her mistress’s wish to him, and that young and dissolute Bráhman said to her; “If they will give me five hundred gold dínárs for Hansávalí, 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 Manaḥsvámin had received the money, he went with the maid to the private apartments of the widow’s daughter, Dhanavatí, 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 passing the night there, he went away secretly next morning.

In the meanwhile Śiva thus commanded in a dream king Súryaprabha, 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 Śiva 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, “Śiva 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 Súryaprabha spent twelve days in music, and dancing, and other amusements, 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 Súryaprabha, 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 Váráṇasí. And while that son of his, distinguished for policy, was ruling the earth, he abandoned his body at Váráṇasí, in the performance of severe asceticism.

When the Vetála, 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 Vetála, 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 Bráhman 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 Súryaprabha, 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 Súryaprabha 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 Vetála 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 analysis which Oesterley gives of the Sanskrit original by Śivadása, that the Hindi version resembles more nearly the version in the text. In the Sanskrit original there is no touching of the thief; Dhanavatí 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.