Then Víravara went quickly in the darkness to his own house, and king Śúdraka, out of curiosity, followed him unobserved. There he woke up his wife Dharmavatí, and told her how the goddess Earth had directed him to offer up his son for the sake of the king. When she heard it, she said, “My lord, we must ensure the prosperity of the king; so wake up this young boy of ours and tell it him yourself.” Then Víravara woke up his young son Sattvavara, who was asleep, and told him what had occurred, and said to him, “So, my son, the king will live if you are offered up to the goddess Chaṇḍí, but if not, he will die on the third day.” When Sattvavara heard it, though he was a mere child, he shewed a heroic soul, and justified his name.[5] He said “I shall have obtained all I desire, if the sacrifice of my life saves that of the king, for so I shall have repaid him for his food which I have eaten. So why should there be any delay? Take me and offer me up immediately before the adorable goddess. Let me be the means of bringing about the happiness of my lord.”
When Sattvavara said this, Víravara answered, “Bravo! you are in truth my own son.” And the king, who had followed them, and heard all this conversation from outside, said to himself, “Ah! they are all equal in courage.”
Then Víravara took his son Sattvavara on his shoulder, and his wife Dharmavatí took their daughter Víravatí, and they both went that very night to the temple of Chaṇḍí, and king Śúdraka followed them unobserved. Then Sattvavara was taken down by his father from his shoulder, and placed in front of the idol, and the boy, who was full of courage, bowed before the goddess, and said, “May the sacrifice of my head ensure the life of king Śúdraka! May he rule unopposed, goddess, for another hundred years!” When the boy Sattvavara said this, Víravara exclaimed, “Bravo!” and drew his sword and cut off his son’s head, and offered it to the goddess, saying, “May the sacrifice of my son save the king’s life!”—Immediately a voice was heard from the air, “Bravo! Víravara! What man is as devoted to his sovereign as thou, who, by the sacrifice of thy noble only son, hast bestowed on this king Śúdraka life and a kingdom?” Then that young girl Víravatí, the daughter of Víravara, came up, and embraced the head of her slain brother, and weeping, blinded with excessive grief, she broke her heart and so died. And the king saw and heard all this from his concealment.
Then Víravara’s wife Dharmavatí said to him, “We have ensured the prosperity of the king, so now I have something to say to you. Since my daughter, though a child and knowing nothing, has died out of grief for her brother, and I have lost these two children of mine, what is the use of life to me? Since I have been so foolish as not to offer my own head long ago to the goddess for the welfare of the king, give me leave to enter the fire with my children’s bodies.” When she urged this request, Víravara said to her, “Do so, and may prosperity attend you, for what pleasure could you find, noble woman, in continuing a life, that would for you be full of nothing but grief for your children. But do not be afflicted, because you did not sacrifice yourself. Would not I have sacrificed myself, if the object could have been attained by the sacrifice of any victim but our son? So wait until I have made a pyre for you with these pieces of timber, collected to build the fence round the sanctuary of the goddess.”
When Víravara had said this, he made a funeral pyre with the timber, and placed on it the bodies of his two children, and lighted it with the flame of a lamp. Then his virtuous wife Dharmavatí fell at his feet, and, after worshipping the goddess Chaṇḍí, she addressed to her this prayer, “May my present husband be my husband also in a future birth! And may the sacrifice of my life procure prosperity for the king his master!” When the virtuous woman had said this, she threw herself fearlessly into the burning pyre, from which the flames streamed up like hair.
Then the hero Víravara said to himself, “I have done what the king’s interests required, as the celestial voice testified, and I have paid my debt to my master for his food which I have eaten: so, as I am now left alone, why should I thus cling to life? It does not look well for a man like me to nurse his own life only, after sacrificing all his dear family, which it is his duty to maintain. So why should I not gratify Durgá by sacrificing myself?” Having thus reflected, he first approached the goddess with this hymn of praise:
“Hail to thee, thou slayer of the Asura Mahisha, destroyer of the Dánava Ruru, trident-bearing goddess! Hail to thee, best of mothers, that causest rejoicing among the gods, and upholdest the three worlds! Hail thou whose feet are worshipped by the whole earth, the refuge of those that are intent on final beatitude! Hail thou that wearest the rays of the sun, and dispellest the accumulated darkness of calamity! Hail to thee, Kálí, skull-bearing goddess, wearer of skeletons! Hail, Śivá! Honour to thee! Be propitious now to king Śúdraka on account of the sacrifice of my head!” After Víravara had praised the goddess in these words, he cut off his head with a sudden stroke of his sword.
King Śúdraka, who was a witness of all this from his place of concealment, was full of bewilderment, sorrow, and astonishment, and said to himself, “This worthy man and his family have performed for my sake a wonderful and difficult exploit never seen or heard of anywhere else. Though the world is wide and various, where could there be found a man so resolute as secretly to sacrifice his life for his master, without proclaiming the fact abroad? And if I do not requite this benefit, what is the use of my sovereignty, and of my protracting my life, which would only be like that of an animal?”
When the heroic king had thus reflected, he drew his sword from the sheath, and approaching the goddess, prayed thus to her, “Be propitious to me now, goddess, on account of this sacrifice of my head, and confer a boon on me, thy constant votary. Let this Bráhman Víravara, whose acts are in accordance with his name, and who sacrificed his life for my sake, be resuscitated with his family!” After uttering this prayer, king Śúdraka was preparing to cut off his head with his sword, but at that moment a voice was heard from the air, “Do not act rashly; I am pleased with this courage of thine; let the Bráhman Víravara be restored to life, together with his wife and his children!”—Having uttered so much, the voice ceased, and Víravara rose up alive and unwounded, with his son, his daughter, and his wife. When the king, who quickly concealed himself again, saw that marvel, he was never tired of looking at them with an eye full of tears of joy.
And Víravara quickly awoke as if from sleep, and, beholding his children and wife alive, and also himself, he was confused in mind. And he asked his wife and children, addressing them severally by name, “How have you returned to life after having been reduced to ashes? I too cut off my head: what is the meaning of my being now alive? Is this a delusion, or the manifest favour of the goddess?” When he said this, his wife and children answered him, “Our being alive is due to a merciful interposition of the goddess, of which we were not conscious.” Then Víravara came to the conclusion that it was so, and after worshipping the goddess, he returned home with his wife and children, having accomplished his object.