An unimportant Baniya (trader), Hiranyadatt, had a daughter, whose name was Madansena Sundari, the beautiful army of Cupid. Her face was like the moon; her hair like the clouds; her eyes like those of a muskrat; her eyebrows like a bent bow; her nose like a parrot's bill; her neck like that of a dove; her complexion like the jasmine-in fact, day by day the splendour of her youth increased. When she had arrived at maturity, her father and mother began often to resolve in their minds the subject of her marriage. And the people of all that country side ruled by Birbar king of Madanpur came to know that in the house of Hiranyadatt had been born a daughter by whose beauty gods, men, and munis (sages) were fascinated.

Thereupon many, causing their portraits to be painted, sent them by messengers to Hiranyadatt the Baniya, who showed them all to his daughter. But she was capricious, as beauties sometimes are, and when her father ask her to choose a husband of her choice, she told him that none pleased her, and moreover she begged of him to find her a husband who possessed good looks, good qualities, and good sense. At length, when some days had passed, four suitors came from four different countries. The father told them that he must have from each some indication that he possessed the required qualities; that he was pleased with their looks, but that they must satisfy him about their knowledge. "I have," the first said, "a perfect acquaintance with the Shastras (or Scriptures); in science there is none to rival me. As for my looks, it may plainly be seen by you."

The second exclaimed, "My attainments are unique in the knowledge of archery. I am acquainted with the art of discharging arrows and killing anything which though not seen is heard, and my fine proportions( appearance) are visible(noticeable) to you." The third continued, "I understand the language of land and water animals, of birds and of beasts, and I have no equal in strength. Of my looks you yourself may judge." "I have the knowledge," quoth the fourth, "how to make a certain cloth which can be sold for five rubies: having sold it I give the proceeds of one ruby to a Brahman, of the second I make an offering to a deity, a third I wear on my own person, a fourth I keep for my wife; and, having sold the fifth, I spend it in giving feasts. This is my knowledge, and none other is acquainted with it. My good looks are apparent."

The father hearing these speeches began to reflect, "It is said that excess in anything is not good. Seeta was very lovely, but the demon Ravana carried her away; and Bali king of Mahabahpur gave much alms, but at length he became poor. My daughter is too fair to remain a maiden; to which of these shall I give her?" So saying, Hiranyadatt went to his daughter, explained the qualities of the four suitors, and asked, "To which shall I give you?" On hearing these words she was abashed; and, hanging down her head, knew not what to reply. Then the Baniya, having reflected, said to himself, "He who is acquainted with the Shastras is a Brahman, he who could shoot an arrow at the sound was a Kshatriya or warrior, and he who made the cloth was a Shudra or servile. But the youth who understands the language of birds is of our own caste. To him, therefore, will I marry her." And accordingly he proceeded with the betrothal of his daughter.

Meanwhile Madansena went one day, during the spring season into the garden for a stroll. It happened, just before she came out, that Somdatt, the son of the merchant Dharmdatt, had gone for pleasure into the forest, and was returning through the same garden to his home. He was fascinated at the sight of the maiden, and said to his friend,that he would not be happy if he didnt obtain her . Having spoken thus, and becoming restless from the fear of separation, he involuntarily drew near to her, and seizing her hand, said - "If you  not form an affection for me, I will throw away my life on thy account." The princess pleaded not to say such harsh words , and will only involve her in guilt and punishment for being the course of his death. Madansena then asked the princess to make a promise and he shall forget the idea of killing himself. She replied, "Truly the Kali Yug (iron age) has commenced, since which time falsehood has increased in the world and truth has diminished; people talk smoothly with their tongues, but nourish deceit in their hearts; religion is destroyed, crime has increased, and the earth has begun to give little fruit. Kings levy fines, Brahmans have waxed covetous, the son obeys not his sire's commands, brother distrusts brother; friendship has departed from amongst friends; sincerity has left masters; servants have given up service; man has abandoned manliness; and woman has abandoned modesty. Five days hence, my marriage is to be; but if you dont kill yourself , I will visit you first, and after that I will remain with my husband." Having given this promise, and having sworn by the Ganges, she returned home. The merchant's son also went his way.

Presently the marriage ceremonies came on, and Hiranyadatt the Baniya expended a lakh of rupees in feasts and presents to the bridegroom. During the night before the wedding there was loud and shrill music. The wedding procession was very grand. The streets were a blaze of flambeaux and torches carried in the hand, fireworks by the ton were discharged as the people passed; elephants, camels, and horses richly caparisoned, were placed in convenient situations. After the marriage formulas were repeated, the Baniya gave a feast or supper, and the food was so excellent that all sat down quietly, no one uttered a complaint, or brought dishonor on the bride's family, or cut with scissors the garments of his neighbor. The ceremony thus happily concluded, the husband brought Madansena home to his own house. After some days the wife of her husband's youngest brother, and also the wife of his eldest brother, led her at night by force to her bridegroom, and seated her on a bed ornamented with flowers. As her husband proceeded to take her hand, she jerked it away, and at once openly told him all that she had promised to Somdatt on condition of his not killing himself.

"All things," rejoined the bridegroom, hearing her words,If truly you are desirous of going to him, go! Receiving her husband's permission, she arose and went off to the young merchant's house in full dress. Upon the road a thief saw her, and in high good humour came up and asked - "Where are you going in this  midnight in such darkness, having put on all these fine clothes and ornaments?" She replied that she was going to the house of her beloved. She then told to the thief the whole story, adding - "Destroy not my jewels: I shall give a promise before I go, that on my return you shall have all these ornaments." Hearing this the thief thought to himself that it would be useless now to destroy her jewels, when she had promised to give them to him presently of her own good will. He therefore let her go, and sat down thinking that for a thefy he had done a good deed for the day.

Meanwhile Madansena had reached the place where Somdatt the young trader had fallen asleep. She awoke him suddenly, and he springing up in alarm quickly asked her, "Are you  the daughter of a deity? or of a saint? or of a serpent? Tell me truly, who are you? And why are you here?" She replied, "I am human-- Madansena, the daughter of the Baniya Hiranyadatt. Dont you not remember taking my hand in that grove, and declaring that you would slay yourself if  I did not swear to visit you  first and after that remain with my husband?" "Have you," he inquired, "told all this to your husband or not?" She replied, "I have told him everything; and he, thoroughly understanding the whole affair, gave me permission."

"This matter," exclaimed Somdatt in a melancholy voice, "is like pearls without a suitable dress, or food without clarified butteror singing without melody; they are all alike unnatural. In the same way, unclean clothes will mar beauty, bad food will undermine strength, a wicked wife will worry her husband to death, a disreputable son will ruin his family, an enraged demon will kill, and a woman, whether she love or hate, will be a source of pain. For there are few things which a woman will not do. She never brings to her tongue what is in her heart, she never speaks out what is on her tongue, and she never tells what she is doing. Truly the Deity has created woman a strange creature in this world." He concluded with these words: "Return to your home for I am not concerned with another man's wife."

Madansena rose and departed. On her way she met the thief, who, hearing her tale, gave her great praise, and let her go observe that it is her purity which carries the heroine through all these perils. Moreover, that her :virtue is its own reward, as it loses to her the world. She then went to her husband, and related the whole matter to him. But he had ceased to love her, and he said, "Neither a king nor a minister, nor a wife, nor a person's hair nor his nails, look well out of their places. And the beauty of the kokila is its note, of an ugly man knowledge, of a devotee forgiveness, and of a woman her chastity."

The Vampire having narrated thus far, suddenly asked the king, "Of these three, whose virtue was the greatest?" Vikram, who had been greatly edified by the tale, forgot himself, and ejaculated, "The Thief's." The Baital asked for the reason. "Because," the hero explained, "when her husband saw that she loved another man, however purely, he ceased to feel affection for her. Somdatt let her go unharmed, for fear of being punished by the king. But there was no reason why the thief should fear the law and dismiss her; therefore he was the best." Upon hearing this, the Bailtal laughed and escaping as before from the cloth in which he was slung behind the Raja's back, the Baital disappeared through the darkness of the night, leaving father and son looking at each other in dismay.