"My lord Kausika! Forgive me. I was touched by the piteous appeals of
the women and disturbed you for the sake of duty."
At this, the sage becomes still more furious and says trembling, "O
Villain! speak of duty! What is your duty?"
The king replies,
"O god! gifts to virtuous Brahmans, protection of those afflicted with
fear, and fight with enemies are the three chief duties of Kshattriyas."
The sage thereupon observes,
"If compliance with duties be your aim, make some gift to me
commensurate with my merit."
The king replies, "Oh great sage! what have I got with which to make a
due gift to you? I am prepared to give you what I have----this world
with all its wealth. Please accept it."
Then the sage becomes calm and says,
"Be it so. I will not burn you up. I accept your gift of a kingdom. Now
that you have made a gift, give me a fee of one thousand gold coins,
commensurate with the gift. I will not accept the gift without the fee.
But as you have made a gift of the world with all its wealth, you must
not take the fee-money out of that world. Collect the money elsewhere."
At this, the king is in a fix. After much thought it strikes him that it
is said in the scriptures that Benares is separate from the world. So he
resolves to collect money from that holy city.
Then the king placing the crown and the sceptre of royalty at the feet
of the sage, obtains from him one month's time to pay the fee and taking
the queen Saibya and his son Rohitasya with him, starts for Benares. The
month allowed him is drawing to a close. Not a single gold coin has been
collected--to say nothing of one thousand coins. Alms is the only way of
collection. Alms barely suffices for maintenance. On the morning of the
last day, when he is deeply anxious for the money, the sage arrives.
Seeing the latter, he almost faints.
The sage whirls his eyes and asks, "Oh Harischandra! where is my fee?
Pay at once, or I will burn you up." He replies in piteous and trembling
tones, "The month will be completed by sunset. Please wait till sunset."
The sage observes, "I will not listen to any more of your
prevarications. I cannot grant your request."
The king cries and repeatedly entreats the sage to wait till sunset.
At this the queen and his son both weep.
After many entreaties, the sage consents. Then the king again goes out
a-begging, but in vain. Then he resolves to sell his person and goes
about hawking himself in the streets.
No one responds to his efforts. No buyer appears. At this time, a
Brahmin with a disciple, asks whether a male or a female slave is for
sale and intimates that he requires a female slave.
The queen wipes her eyes and replies, "Yes, a female slave is for sale
for fifty thousand gold coins. I, who am for sale as such, will obey all
orders except eating table-refuse and indulging in improper intimacy
with males." The Brahmin consents to the terms laid down, pays the
required sum into the hands of the king and takes away the queen. The
king then bewails her thus:--
"It were far better if a thousand thunderbolts had fallen on my head. Oh
my dear queen! Never even in a dream did I think that such a misfortune
would befall you. You mistook a poisonous tree for a sandal-tree. Oh,
how hard is my heart! It does not melt at the sight of my wife sold away
as a slave. Even iron is melted by fire. Oh Providence! I can no longer
bear up my sorrows. Oh Indra I break my head in pieces by thy
thunderbolts."
At this lamentation of the king, all present become sorry and express
their regrets. After a little while, the sage arrives again, his body
emitting sparks of fire. Seeing him at a distance, the king begins to
tremble.
As the sage comes up, the king bows to him and says,
"My lord Kausika! I have procured only a half of your fee by the sale of
my wife. Accept it. I shall presently pay the remaining half by the sale
of my own person."
The sage whirls his eyes and exclaims, "Is it a joke? Am I a fit object
for a joke? What shall I do with only half the money? Just pay down the
whole amount. See the sun is setting."
The king replies, "O God! if this does not satisfy you, I pray you wait
a little. If a Chandal is available, I will sell my person to him and
pay your fee." The sage remarks:--
"Then I will stand here and wait. Collect the money without delay."
The king then hawks himself about, "Will any one buy me with half a lakh
of gold coins, and deliver me from an ocean of sorrows." No one responds
to his offer. No buyer appears. The sun is about to set. Death stares
him in the face. Not that he fears death. Why should he fear it? He has
given away his kingdom. His queen has been sold. Life has no further
attraction for him. Death has been stripped of its terrors. But death by
the fire of a Brahmin's anger leads to everlasting hell. He sees the
vision of hell, falls down on the ground like a plantain tree blown by a
tempest, and faints.
Virtue preserves him who practises virtue. Virtue assumes the form of a
Chandal and accompanied by an attendant, makes his appearance, with a
half-burnt bamboo on his shoulders and a chain of skeletons round his
neck. He is ready to buy the king, who now weeps bitterly, and holding
the feet of the sage, entreats him thus:--
"Oh lord Kausika! Do me a favour I pray you. Do not sell me to a
Chandal. Do _you_ rather buy me. I shall be your slave for ever."