When the king again arrived to mount the throne, a statuette supporting it addressed him: ‘Lord of Bhoja, ascend this great throne of mighty Indra only if you have Vikrama’s quality of helping others everywhere.’ ‘Tell me, you who speak so sweetly,’ asked the king, ‘what was this quality and the nature of his compassion? I am all ears.’ Urged thus, she told him the twenty-seventh story of Vikramaditya, who was always inclined to help others.
‘While travelling the earth, alone and in disguise, King Vikramaditya once came to a city called Chandravati. “I will stay here for five days,” he said to himself, and he went to a most beautiful temple where he saluted the deity and took a seat in the congregation hall.
‘After some time another man arrived there. He was handsomely attired, like a prince. His garments were of silk and he wore all manners of ornaments. His body had been rubbed with a pomade of sandalwood, perfumed with camphor, saffron, aloe and musk. Accompanying him were some courtesans, with whom he amused himself in flirtatious tale-telling and conversation before going out with them again. The king observed him, and wondered who he could be.
‘The same man came again the following day. This time he was alone, without his robes and ornaments, and clad merely in a loincloth. Looking miserable, he flung himself on the floor of the temple hall.
‘The king saw this now wretched man sitting and sighing not far from him and, as if to soothe his suffering, asked kindly: “Good sir, you came here yesterday sporting a splendid dress. Today you are in this condition. What is the reason?”
“‘O master,” the man replied, “why do you speak thus? Yesterday I was in another condition. Now I am in this. It is because of destiny. Thus,
The bees which flourished on ichor
from the rutting elephant’s temple,
their limbs perfumed by the pollen
of the blooming lotus, now daily
while their time on the bitter foliage
of the lime and the sunflower.”
“‘Who are you, sir?” asked the king. “I am a gambler,” the man replied. “Do you understand the game of dice?” the king asked further. The man said: “On that subject I am certainly an expert. I am always there with the gamesters, playing the dice day and night. I know the game gatāgatam or ‘go and come’, and am a master at making wagérs. I know too the power of the mind in setting impregnable defences with elephants, knights, ministers and chariots in the four-limbed game of chess. I am skilled in winning money, and have defeated even clever players. But, though always capable, I was beaten today by destiny and reduced to this condition. So, I wander, stricken by fate. That is the supreme power in the world. What man can do is meaningless. One’s efforts are futile when one ignores this fact.”
“‘Whoever you may be, sir,” said the king, “you are very intelligent. Why have you devoted yourself to this extremely wicked pursuit of gaming?” “What does not even an intelligent man do when driven by his karma?” the gambler replied. “And it is said,
Driven by his own karma,
what can the intelligent man do?
The minds of men have
always followed their karma.”
“‘Gentle sir,” said the king, “gambling is the root of great evils. The game of dice is the repository of all vices. It is said,
will engage in the pursuit
of gaming? It is the home
of ill fame, and the abode
of thieves and harlots.
It is the king of vices,
and the first of the
dangerous roads to hell.
“‘There are seven very evil vices which intelligent people eschew,” the king continued, “it is said,
Gambling, meat eating, wine drinking,
fornicating, hunting, theft, and adultery
are seven very evil vices
which intelligent people should eschew.
“‘Moreover,
Yudhishthira was brought down by gambling,
the ogre Baka by eating meat,
Balarāma by drinking wine,
Indra by fornication,
King Brahamadatta by hunting,
Yayāti by theft
and the great
ten-headed Rāvana by adultery.
People can be ruined
by even one of these vices.
Who will not be destroyed by all?
“Therefore, my friend, do not play dice any more and destroy your self-respect and your wealth, virtue and prestige. This is what has brought you to your present condition.”
“‘You do not know the pleasure of dicing,” the gambler replied. “Nectar is but a name. Food can cause illness. Ornaments merely satisfy vanity. The pleasure of women turns sour because one cannot trust them. That of music, song and dance depends on others. And spiritual bliss is unattainable. Thus, gambling gives the one definite pleasure in this transient world. Even yogis pray to be absorbed in it. Thus,
As the gambler meditates on his stake,
the separated lover on his beloved,
and the skilled archer on his target,
so may I mediate on you, O Lord.”
“‘Alas,” thought the king on hearing these words,
“Ignorance is indeed worse than anger
and all the other vices. Blinded by it,
man cannot tell the good from the bad.”
‘The king then gave further instruction to the gambler. “If you really want to help others,” said the latter, “then do one thing for me.” “I will do it if you give up this vice of gambling,” said the king. “So be it,” the gambler said. “But do not tell me to stop. Do me a favour, if you are my friend. Whether this game of dice causes happiness or grief, I am not inclined to give it up. So, do not forbid it to me. But, since you have treated me as a friend, I am in your hands. Act like one and solve my problem. But even a friend cannot provide success only through instruction. Be my support by giving me some money.” The king smiled and said: “I will do what is proper.” Then he kept silent.
‘By this time, two brahmins from a foreign land had arrived and sat down in another part of the temple. They were conferring amongst themselves, and one said: “I have seen all the works written in the goblin tongue. In them it is said that to the north-east of this temple, at a distance of five bow shots, there are located three jars full of dīnāra coins. Near them is an image of the deity Bhairava, and they can be obtained by sprinkling that image with one’s own blood.”
‘The king heard this conversation. He went to the place talked about and sprinkled the image of Bhairava with the blood of his own body. “‘O King,” the contented deity said to him, “I am pleased. Choose a boon.” “If you are pleased,” replied the king, “then give the three jars full of dīnāras to this gambler.” Bhairava gave him the money, and the gambler went home, praising the king. King Vikrama also returned to his capital.’
Thus did the statuette relate this famous story to King Bhoja, who once more abandoned his desire for mounting the throne.