King Vikramaditya once again went to the Shishapa tree. He took down the corpse in which Vethala dwelt, placed it upon his shoulder, and set out through the cremation ground. As the king walked on in silence, Vethala said, “O King, listen to another story.”

On the bank of the Yamuna stood an agrahara named Brahmasthala. There lived a man named Agniswami, who was learned in the Vedas. He had a daughter named Mandaravati. When she came of age, three young men from Kanyakubja arrived there.

All three were endowed with every virtue, and each asked her father for her hand in marriage. Agniswami wished to give his daughter to one of the three. Yet he could not bring himself to choose. He feared that his choice would bring happiness to one man but leave the other two in such grief that they might take their own lives.

Unable to decide among them, he allowed Mandaravati to remain unmarried for a time. The three young men stayed there day and night. Their hearts were fixed upon her moon-like face, like birds gazing at the moon.

Then suddenly Mandaravati was seized by a fever and died. Overcome with grief, the three young Brahmins prepared her body, carried it to the cremation ground, and consigned it to the flames. Afterward one of them remained there. He made the cremation ground his dwelling, prepared a bed upon her ashes, and lived on alms.

The second gathered her bones and set out for the Ganga. The third became an ascetic and wandered from place to place. As the ascetic wandered, he came to a village called Vakrolaka. A Brahmin there welcomed the ascetic into his home and showed him every courtesy due to a guest.

He offered him a place to rest and prepared a meal for him. Just as the ascetic was about to eat, a child in the house began to cry loudly. The mother tried again and again to soothe the child, but nothing would quiet him. At last, overcome by anger, she lifted him in her arms and threw him into the blazing fire.

Horrified by what he had seen, the ascetic exclaimed, “Alas! Shame upon this place! I have entered the house of a Brahmarakshasa. I will not eat beneath this roof after witnessing such a terrible deed.”

The householder replied, “O Brahmin, do not be alarmed. See for yourself the power of the life-restoring mantra that I have perfected through study.” He took down his mantra book and recited the life-restoring mantra. Then he recited the mantra over some dust and scattered it over the child's ashes. At once the child rose alive, restored to the same form as before.

Seeing this, the ascetic's fears disappeared, and he ate his meal in peace. Afterward the householder placed the mantra book upon a peg on the wall. When night came, both the householder and his guest lay down to sleep.

At midnight, when the master of the house was fast asleep, the ascetic remembered his dead beloved. Longing to restore Mandaravati to life, he quietly took the precious mantra book from the peg and slipped out of the house. Travelling day and night, he eventually reached the cremation ground where Mandaravati had been burned. There he met the companion who had carried her bones to the Ganga and had now returned.

Taking him along, the ascetic went to the third companion, who had built a hut at the cremation ground and still lived there upon her ashes. “Friend,” he said, “leave this hut. Come away from the ashes, for by the power of this mantra I shall now restore our beloved to life.”

He made the other two move aside, pulled down the hut, opened the mantra book, and recited the life-restoring mantra. Then he recited the mantra over some dust and scattered it over the ashes of his beloved. By the power of the mantra, Mandaravati rose alive. Having passed through the fire and emerged again, her body shone with even greater lustre than before.

At the sight of her beauty, all three young Brahmins were struck by the arrows of Kama, and at once they began to quarrel over her. The first said, “It was through the power of my mantra that she was restored to life. Therefore, she should be my wife.”

The second said, “I carried her bones to the Ganga and performed the sacred duty that was owed to her. She is my beloved, and she belongs to me.” The third said, “I guarded her ashes and made my dwelling beside them. I remained here out of my love for her. She alone is my wife.”

Having told the story, Vethala said to the king, “O King, in this dispute I consider you alone fit to judge. Tell me decisively: whose wife should this young woman be? If you know the answer and yet remain silent, your head shall split into a hundred pieces. But if you speak, I shall leave your shoulder and return to the Shishapa tree.”

Hearing Vethala's question, King Vikramaditya replied, “Mandaravati should be the wife of the man who remained in the cremation ground and lived beside her ashes. The man who went through many hardships and restored her to life through the power of the mantra became like a father to her, for he gave her life again. Therefore, he cannot be regarded as her husband.

“The man who carried her bones to the Ganga performed the duty of a son and thus became like a son to her. But the man who made a bed upon her ashes remained in the cremation ground and embraced those ashes out of his deep love for her. His conduct was that of a husband. Therefore, Mandaravati should be his wife.”

As soon as Vikramaditya had spoken, Vethala slipped from his shoulder and returned to the Shishapa tree. Vikramaditya turned back through the cremation ground and went once more to bring him down.