Chapter CXXI.
When Anangadeva had told this to king Vikramáditya in his hall of audience, he continued as follows:—
Then, after I had taken food, that lady, sitting in the midst of her attendants, said to me, “Listen, Anangadeva, I will now tell you all.”
Story of Madanamanjarí.
I am Madanamanjarí, the daughter of Dundubhi the king of the Yakshas, and the wife of Maṇibhadra the brother of Kuvera. I used always to roam about happily with my husband on the banks of rivers, on hills, and in charming groves.
And one day I went with my beloved to a garden in Ujjayiní called Makaranda to amuse myself. There it happened that in the dawn a low hypocritical scoundrel of a kápálika[1] saw me, when I had just woke up from a sleep brought on by the fatigue of roaming about. That rascal, being overcome with love, went into a cemetery, and proceeded to try and procure me for his wife by means of a spell, and a burnt-offering. But I by my power found out what he was about, and informed my husband; and he told his elder brother Kuvera. And Kuvera went and complained to Brahmá, and the holy Brahmá, after meditating, said to him, “It is true that kápálika intends to rob your brother of his wife, for such is the power of those spells for mastering Yakshas, which he possesses. But when she feels herself being drawn along by the spell, she must invoke the protection of king Vikramáditya; he will save her from him.” Then Kuvera came and told this answer of Brahmá’s to my husband, and my husband told it to me, whose mind was troubled by that wicked spell.
And in the meanwhile that hypocritical kápálika, offering a burnt-offering in the cemetery, began to draw me to him by means of a spell, duly muttered in a circle. And I, being drawn by that spell, reached in an agony of terror that awful cemetery, full of bones and skulls, haunted by demons. And then I saw there that wicked kápálika: he had made an offering to the fire, and he had in a circle a corpse lying on its back, which he had been worshipping. And that kápálika, when he saw that I had arrived, was beside himself with pride, and with difficulty tore himself away to rinse his mouth in a river, which happened to be near.
At that moment I called to mind what Brahmá had said, and I thought, “Why should I not call to the king for aid? He may be roaming about in the darkness somewhere near.” When I had said this to myself, I called aloud for his help in the following words, “Deliver me, noble king Vikramáditya! See, protecting talisman of the world, this kápálika is bent on outraging by force, in your realm, me a chaste matron, the Yakshí Madanamanjarí by name, the daughter of Dundubhi, and the wife of Maṇibhadra the younger brother of Kuvera.”
No sooner had I finished this plaintive appeal, than I saw that king coming towards me, sword in hand; he seemed to be all resplendent with brightness of valour, and he said to me, “My good lady, do not fear; be at ease; I will deliver you from that kápálika, fair one. For who is able to work such unrighteousness in my realm?” When he had said this, he summoned a Vetála, named Agniśikha. And he, when summoned, came, tall, with flaming eyes, with upstanding hair; and said to the king, “Tell me what I am to do.” Then the king said, “Kill and eat this wicked kápálika, who is trying to carry off his neighbour’s wife.” Then that Vetála Agniśikha entered the corpse that was in the circle of adoration, and rose up, and rushed forward, stretching out his arms and mouth. And when the kápálika, who had come back from rinsing his mouth, was preparing to fly, he seized him from behind by the legs; and he whirled him round in the air and then dashed him down with great force on the earth, and so at one blow crushed his body and his aspirations.