Another statuette spoke out when the king again attempted to sit on the throne: “O Monarch! No one is worthy of mounting this throne except one who has the magnanimity and the other virtues of Vikrama.’
‘Tell me about his magnanimity and the rest,’ said Bhoja. The statue then replied: ‘Listen, O King!’
‘Once King Vikramaditya went out on a tour and came to a certain city. A clear stream flowed nearby. On its bank was a grove resplendent with many kinds of flowers and fruit, in the middle of which stood a charming temple.
‘The king bathed in the stream, offered his prayers, and sat down in the temple. After some time four strangers arrived and also sat near him. “Hello, from where have you come?” asked the king. “We have come from the eastern country,” one of them replied.
“‘Did you see any new sights in that country?” the king asked. “Master, we saw something extraordinary,” said one of the newcomers, “so much so that we barely escaped with our lives.”
“‘And what was that?” asked the king. The newcomer said: “In that country there is a place called Vetālapurī or Vampire City, where dwells a goddess known as Śoṇitapriyā or Lover of Blood. The people and the ruler of that place offer a human sacrifice to her once a year for the fulfillment of their wishes. Should a stranger happen to be there on the particular day, they kill and offer him like a beast before the goddess. We chanced to be in that city on that very day because of our travels, and the people there came out to finish us off. But by then we had heard about them. We fled and came here, barely escaping with our lives.”
‘After hearing this account, King Vikrama went to that city and beheld the awesome temple there. Making obeisance to the goddess, he sang a hymn;
“May the holy mothers1 protect me:
Brahmāni, whose face is pure and gentle
like the moon; Maheśvari with her magic charm;
Kaumari, destroyer of the enemy’s pride;
Vaishṇavi, who wields the discus;
Varāhi, of the thunderous roar;
Aindri, armed with the thunderbolt;
and Chamuṇḍā, accompanied
by Ganesa and Rudra.”
‘Then he sat down in the temple’s assembly hall. At that moment a miserable-looking man appeared along with a crowd of people preceded by music. Seeing them, the king said to himself: “This must be the one whom the people have brought here for sacrificing to the goddess. That is why he looks so wretched. I must free him, and proffer myself instead. This body may last for a hundred years, but eventually it must perish. What is worth earning is holy merit and spotless fame. It is said:
Transient is prosperity; youth,
this body, and life itself are fleeting;
transitory is all worldly existence.
Dharma and glory alone are abiding.
“‘And further,
This body is but temporary.
Affluence does not last for ever.
Death is ever imminent.
What one should do is
to accumulate holy merit.
“‘Furthermore,
Wealth is as dust upon the feet;
youth, is as the torrent
trembling like a drop of water
is the human condition;
and life itself is as foam.
Dharma lifts the bar to heaven’s gate.
One who does not follow it
will burn in the fire of grief
when he is struck by remorse
and overcome by age.”
‘Having thus reflected, the king addressed those people: “Where are you taking this poor man?”
“‘We are going to sacrifice him to the goddess,” they replied. “Why?” he asked. They said: “The goddess will be pleased with our offering of this man. She will then fulfil our desires.”
“‘O you people!” said the king, “this man is so puny, and terrified to boot. What satisfaction will the goddess get from the sacrifice of his person? So, let him go. I offer myself instead. My limbs are stout and strong, and the goddess will be content with my flesh. Sacrifice me to her.”
‘With these words Vikramaditya freed the victim and, going up to the goddess, put his sword to his own throat. At that the deity caught hold of the sword and said: “Mighty hero, I am deeply satisfied with your steadfastness and wish to help others. Choose a boon.”
“‘Goddess!” prayed the king, “if you are pleased with me, then renounce the sacrifice of human flesh from now.” “So be it,” the goddess said, and the people cried: “O King, you are indeed like a great tree. You do not seek comfort for yourself, but bear tribulations for the sake of others. Thus,
The tree suffers the sharp summer heat
upon its head, but with its shade
who seek shelter under it.
This is your nature too.
Unmindful of your own ease,
you endure pains every day
for the sake of the people.”2
‘And the king took leave of them, and returned to his own city.’
After recounting this story, the statuette told King Bhoja: ‘Your Majesty, sit on this throne if you too have such fortitude and magnanimity.’ But the king heard her and remained silent.