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father, in that my life can profit the king? I must requite him for his food which I have eaten; so take me and sacrifice me to the goddess for his sake." When the boy Sattvavara said this, Víravara answered him undismayed, " In truth you are my own son." When king Vikramatunga, who was standing outside, heard this, he said to himself— " Ah ! the members of this family are all equally brave."
Then Víravara took that son Sattvavara on his shoulder, and his wife Dharmavatí took his daughter Víravatí on her back, and the two went to the temple of Durgá by night.
And the king Vikramatunga followed them, carefully concealing himself. When they reached the temple, Sattvavara was put down by his father from his shoulder, and, though he was a boy, being a store-house of courage, he bowed before the goddess, and addressed this petition to her: "Goddess, may our lord's life be saved by the offering of my head ! And may the king Vikramatunga rule the earth without an enemy to oppose him !" When the boy said this, Víravara exclaimed, " Bravo ! my son!" And drawing his sword, he cut off his son's head, and offered it to the goddess Durgá, saying, " May the king be prosperous !" Those who are devoted to heir master grudge them neither their sons' lives nor their own. Then a voice was heard from heaven, saying, " Bravo, Víravara ! you have bestowed life on your master by sacrificing even the life of your son." Then, while the king was seeing and hearing with great astonishment all that went on, the daughter of Víravara, named Víravati, who was a mere girl, came up to the head of her slain brother, and embraced it, and kissed it, and crying out "Alas! my brother!" died' of a broken heart. When Víravara's wife, Dharmavatí, saw that her daughter also was dead, in her grief she clasped her hands together, and said to Víravara; " We have now ensured the prosperity of the king, so permit me to enter the fire with my two dead children. Since my infant daughter, though too young to understand anything, has died out of grief for her brother, what is the use of my life, my two children being dead?" When she spoke with this settled purpose, Víravara said to her; " Do so, what can I say against it? For, blameless one, there remains no happiness for you in a world, which will be all filled for you with grief for your two children; so wait a moment while I prepare the funeral pyre." Having said this, he constructed a pyre with some wood, that was lying there to make the fence of the enclosure of the goddess's temple, and put the corpses of his children upon it, and lit a fire under it, so that it was enveloped in flames. Then his virtuous wife, Dharmavatí, fell at his feet, and exclaiming, " May you, my husband, be my lord in my next birth, and may prosperity befall the king !" she leapt into that burning pyre, with its hair of flame, as gladly as into a cool lake. And king Vikramatunga, who was standing by unper-
