342
When the king had said this, he ceased, and the Vetála 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. Tho king is to be healed by placing his feet in the body of a boy.
The promise of a golden imago to any one who is willing to sacrifice his life is also found in the Bengali edition of the Sinhásana-dvátrinśati. 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. Vikramáditya goes to the place disguised, and cuts off his head, but the goddess heals him, (Benfey's Panchatantra, Vol. I, p. 109.)
CHAPTER XCV.
(Vetála 21.)
Then king Trivikramasena again went and took the Vetála from the aśoka-tree, and carried him along on his shoulder. And as he was going along, the Vetála again said to the king, " Listen, king, I will tell you a story of violent attachment."
Story of Anangamanjarí, her husband Manivarman, and the Bráhman Kamalákara.:—There is a city called Viśálá, which is like a second city of Indra, made by the Creator on earth, for the sake of virtuous people who have fallen from heaven. In it there lived a fortunate king, named Padmanábha, who was a source of joy to good men, and excelled king Bali. In the reign of that king there lived in that city a great merchant, named Arthadatta, who surpassed in opulence the god of wealth. And to him there was born a daughter named Anangamanjarí, who was exhibited on earth by the Creator as a likeness of a heavenly nymph. And that merchant gave her to the son of a distinguished merchant, dwelling in Támraliptí, and named Manivarman. But as he was very fond of his daughter Anangamanjarí, because she was his only child, he would not let her leave his house, but kept her there with her husband. But Anangamanjarí's husband Manivarman was as distasteful to her, as a biting bitter medicine to a sick man. But that lovely one was dearer than life to her husband, as wealth hardly won and long hoarded is to a miser.
