And there he unexpectedly saw many corpses of similar appearance hanging upon the tree, and they all seemed to be possessed by Vetálas. The king said to himself, “Ah! what is the meaning of this? Is this deluding Vetála doing this now in order to waste my time? For I do not know which of these many corpses here I ought to take. If this night shall pass away without my accomplishing my object, I will enter the fire, I will not put up with disgrace.” But the Vetála discovered the king’s intention, and pleased with his courage, he withdrew that delusion. Then the king beheld only one Vetála on the tree in the corpse of a man, and he took it down, and put it on his shoulder, and once more started off with it. And as he trudged along, the Vetála again said to him, “King, your fortitude is wonderful: so listen to this my tale.”
Story of the Bráhman’s son who failed to acquire the magic power.
There is a city called Ujjayiní, inferior only to Bhogavatí and Amarávatí, which Śiva, who was won by the toilsome asceticism of Gaurí, being in love with the matchless pre-eminence of its excellence, himself selected as his habitation. It is full of various enjoyments, to be attained only by distinguished well-doing; in that city stiffness and hardness is seen only in the bosoms of the ladies, curvature only in their eye-brows,[1] and fickleness only in their rolling eyes; darkness only in the nights; crookedness only in the ambiguous phrases of poets; madness only in elephants; and coldness only in pearls, sandal-wood juice, and the moon.
In that city there was a learned Bráhman, named Devasvámin, who had offered many sacrifices, and possessed great wealth, and who was highly honoured by the king, whose name was Chandraprabha. In time there was born to that Bráhman a son, named Chandrasvámin, and he, though he had studied the sciences, was, when he grew up, exclusively devoted to the vice of gambling.[2] Now once on a time that Bráhman’s son, Chandrasvámin, entered a great gambling-hall to gamble. Calamities seemed to be continually watching that hall with tumbling dice for rolling eyes, like the black antelope in colour, and saying to themselves, “Whom shall we seize on here?” And the hall, full of the noise of the altercations of gamblers, seemed to utter this cry, “Who is there whose wealth I could not take away? I could impoverish even Kuvera the lord of Alaká.” Then he entered the hall, and playing dice with gamblers, he lost his clothes and all, and then he lost borrowed money in addition. And when he was called upon to pay that impossible sum, he could not do it, so the keeper of the gambling-hall seized him and beat him with sticks.[3] And that Bráhman’s son, when beaten with sticks all over his body, made himself motionless as a stone, and to all appearance dead, and remained in that state.
When he had remained there in that condition for two or three days, the proprietor of the gambling establishment got angry, and said, in the gambling-hall, to the gamblers, who frequented it; “This fellow has begun to try on the petrifaction dodge, so take the spiritless wretch and throw him into some blind well; but I will give you the money.”
When the proprietor said this to the gamblers, they took up Chandrasvámin, and carried him to a distant wood to look for a well. There an old gambler said to the others, “This fellow is all but dead; so what is the good of throwing him into a well now? So let us leave him here, and say that we left him in a well.” All approved his speech, and agreed to do as he recommended.
Then the gamblers left Chandrasvámin there and went their ways, and he rose up and entered an empty temple of Śiva that stood near. There he recovered his strength a little, and reflected in his grief, “Alas! being over-confiding, I have been robbed by these gamblers by downright cheating, so, where can I go in this condition, naked, cudgelled, and begrimed with dust? What would my father, my relations, or my friends say of me, if they saw me? So I will remain here for the present, and at night I will go out, and see how I can make shift to get food, to satisfy my hunger.” While he was going through these reflections in hunger and nakedness, the sun abated his heat, and abandoned his garment the sky, and went to the mountain of setting.
Thereupon there came there a Páśupata ascetic with his body smeared with ashes, with matted hair and a trident, looking like a second Śiva. When he saw Chandrasvámin, he said to him, “Who are you?” Thereupon Chandrasvámin told him his story, and bowed before him, and the hermit when he heard it, said to him; “You have arrived at my hermitage, as an unexpected guest, exhausted with hunger; so rise up, bathe, and take a portion of the food I have obtained by begging.” When the hermit said this to Chandrasvámin, he answered, “Reverend sir, I am a Bráhman; how can I eat a part of your alms?”
When the hospitable hermit who possessed magic powers, heard that, he entered his hut, and called to mind the science which produces whatever one desires, and the science appeared to him when he called it to mind, and said, “What shall I do for you?” And he gave it this order; “Provide entertainment for this guest.” The science answered “I will;” and then Chandrasvámin beheld a golden city rise up, with a garden attached to it, and full of female attendants. And those females came out of that city, and approached the astonished Chandrasvámin, and said to him; “Rise up, good sir; come, eat, and forget your fatigue.” Then they took him inside, and made him bathe, and anointed him; and they put splendid garments on him, and took him to another magnificent dwelling; and there the young man beheld a young woman who seemed their chief, who was beautiful in all her limbs, and appeared to have been made by the Creator out of curiosity to see what he could do. She rose up, eager to welcome him, and made him sit beside her on her throne, and he partook with her of heavenly food, and ate with much delight betel-nut, flavoured with five fruits.