Part II
After reigning for some years， Vikram the Brave found himself at the age of thirty， a staid and sober middle-aged man， He had several sons——daughters are naught in India——by his several wives， and he had some paternal affection for nearly all——except of course， for his eldest son， a youth who seemed to conduct himself as though he had a claim to the succession. In fact， the king seemed to have taken up his abode for life at Ujjayani， when suddenly he bethought himself， "I must visit those countries of whose names I am ever hearing." The fact is， he had determined to spy out in disguise the lands of all his foes， and to find the best means of bringing against them his formidable army.
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We now learn how Bhartari Raja becomes Regent of Ujjayani.
Having thus resolved， Vikram the Brave gave the government into the charge of a younger brother， Bhartari Raja， and in the garb of a religious mendicant， accompanied by Dharma Dhwaj， his second son， a youth bordering on the age of puberty， he began to travel from city to city， and from forest to forest.
The Regent was of a settled melancholic turn of mind， having lost in early youth a very peculiar wife. One day， whilst out hunting， he happened to pass a funeral pyre， upon which a Brahman's widow had just become Sati （a holy woman） with the greatest fortitude. On his return home he related the adventure to Sita Rani， his spouse， and she at once made reply that virtuous women die with their husbands， killed by the fire of grief， not by the flames of the pile. To prove her truth the prince， after an affectionate farewell， rode forth to the chase， and presently sent back the suite with his robes torn and stained， to report his accidental death. Sita perished upon the spot， and the widower remained inconsolable——for a time.
He led the dullest of lives， and took to himself sundry spouses， all equally distinguished for birth， beauty， and modesty. Like his brother， he performed all the proper devoirs of a Raja， rising before the day to finish his ablutions， to worship the gods， and to do due obeisance to the Brahmans. He then ascended the throne， to judge his people according to the Shastra， carefully keeping in subjection lust， anger， avarice， folly， drunkenness， and pride； preserving himself from being seduced by the love of gaming and of the chase； restraining his desire for dancing， singing， and playing on musical instruments， and refraining from sleep during daytime， from wine， from molesting men of worth， from dice， from putting human beings to death by artful means， from useless travelling， and from holding any one guilty without the commission of a crime. His levees were in a hall decently splendid， and he was distinguished only by an umbrella of peacock's feathers； he received all complainants， petitioners， and presenters of offenses with kind looks and soft words. He united to himself the seven or eight wise councillors， and the sober and virtuous secretary that formed the high cabinet of his royal brother， and they met in some secret lonely spot， as a mountain， a terrace， a bower or a forest， whence women， parrots， and other talkative birds were carefully excluded.
And at the end of this useful and somewhat laborious day， he retired to his private apartments， and， after listening to spiritual songs and to soft music， he fell asleep. Sometimes he would summon his brother's "Nine Gems of Science，" and give ear to their learned discourses. But it was observed that the viceroy reserved this exercise for nights when he was troubled with insomnia——the words of wisdom being to him an infallible remedy for that disorder.
Thus passed onwards his youth， doing nothing that it could desire， forbidden all pleasures because they were unprincely， and working in the palace harder than in the pauper's hut. Having， however， fortunately for himself， few predilections and no imagination， he began to pride himself upon being a philosopher. Much business from an early age had dulled his wits， which were never of the most brilliant； and in the steadily increasing torpidity of his spirit， he traced the germs of that quietude which forms the highest happiness of man in this storm of matter called the world. He therefore allowed himself but one friend of his soul. He retained， I have said， his brother's seven or eight ministers； he was constant in attendance upon the Brahman priests who officiated at the palace， and who kept the impious from touching sacred property； and he was courteous to the commander-in-chief who directed his warriors， to the officers of justice who inflicted punishment upon offenders， and to the lords of towns， varying in number from one to a thousand. But he placed an intimate of his own in the high position of confidential councillor， the ambassador to regulate war and peace.
