Once, it was said that a true son is not merely one born from the womb, but he who earns wealth by his own effort and gives it to his father or his relatives. Such a son alone is worthy of the name. Hearing these words from a Brahmin, a man filled with desire and trust in their truth quickly gathered his precious jewels. He offered his own wealth to Gautama, the Brahmin, and together they journeyed across many lands, enjoying themselves as they pleased. The merchant, honest in his intentions, said, “Let us take this wealth and these riches, and then return home.” But while the merchant spoke truthfully, the Brahmin harbored deceit in his heart. The merchant, blinded by sinful thoughts, did not recognize the Brahmin’s true nature, nor did the Brahmin know the merchant’s parentage. Unaware of each other’s backgrounds, they addressed each other as mere companions. Traveling from one country to another in search of greater fortune, the Brahmin began to covet the wealth held by the merchant. He thought, “By whatever means possible, I will take possession of this wealth. Ah, there are thousands of delightful cities on this earth. Everywhere, women as beautiful as goddesses, who fulfill every desire, are to be found—what should I do?” He reflected further, “If, by my own effort, I obtain wealth and give it to women, they will always enjoy it. Truly, such a life is fruitful. Surrounded always by courtesans, delighting in dance and song, how shall I enjoy the merchant’s wealth that has come into my hands?” Thus contemplating, Gautama, adorned with jeweled earrings and a smile, spoke aloud, “Indeed, by unrighteousness, creatures thrive. They gain prosperity, happiness, and all that they desire—there is no doubt. Yet in this world, the righteous are seen to suffer. So, what use is righteousness, whose only result seems to be suffering?” Hearing this, the merchant replied, “No, happiness is established in righteousness. In sin, there is only suffering, fear, grief, poverty, and distress. Where righteousness is, there is liberation. How can one’s own duty perish?” So, the two began to argue, each insisting his view was correct. They agreed that whoever’s side proved stronger would win all the wealth. “Let us ask,” they said, “whose strength is greater—the righteous or the unrighteous? In this world, the Veda is supreme, and from righteousness alone comes happiness.” Thus disputing, they turned to the people and asked, “Whose power is greater on earth—righteousness or unrighteousness?” The people were urged to judge truthfully. Those who followed righteousness replied, “By us, suffering is experienced, while the most sinful people are happy.” In the dispute, all the wealth was awarded to the Brahmin. Maṇimān, foremost in knowledge of righteousness, once again praised dharma. The Brahmin then asked him, “Why do you praise righteousness?” The merchant simply said, “So be it,” and the Brahmin continued, “I have won the wealth, O merchant. Why do you shamelessly speak? By me alone, righteousness has been conquered, for I have acted as I wished.” Hearing these words, the merchant smiled and replied, “Just as husks are found among grains and mites among birds, so too, my friend, do I regard those who are without righteousness. Of the four aims of human life, righteousness is said to be the first; only afterwards come wealth and desire. How can you say, O best of the twice-born, that I have been conquered, when righteousness abides with me?” The Brahmin then proposed, “Let the wager be settled by our hands.” The merchant agreed, and both went forth to speak again. As before, they approached the people, and the Brahmin declared, “I have won.” In a cruel act, he cut off the merchant’s hands, and then challenged, “How do you regard righteousness now?” Thus pressed by the Brahmin, the merchant responded, “I consider righteousness to be supreme, even when life itself is at the throat. For mother, father, friend, and kin—righteousness alone is the true companion of embodied beings.” As their dispute continued, the Brahmin became wealthy, while the merchant was left destitute, having lost both his arms and his wealth. Wandering thus, they came to the banks of the Ganges, to the presence of Hari, the Lord of Yoga. By chance, the two again spoke to each other. The merchant praised only righteousness before the Ganges and the Lord of Yoga, while the Brahmin, filled with anger, reproached him, saying, “Your wealth is gone, your hands are severed, and you remain only with your virtues. If you say otherwise, I will cut off your head with my sword.” The merchant laughed and spoke plainly to Gautama, “I consider righteousness to be supreme; do as you wish. The Brahmins, teachers, gods, Vedas, righteousness, and Janardana—all these I revere. But he who reviles them is sinful; such a wrongdoer should not be touched. The wicked, the evil-minded, the corrupter of righteousness—he is to be shunned.” In anger, the Brahmin declared, “If you praise righteousness, let the wager between us be for our very lives, O sage.” Gautama agreed, and once more, both spoke to the people, who responded as before. Before the Lord of Yoga, on the southern bank of the Ganges, Gautama struck the merchant down, gouging out his eye, and said, “O merchant, by your constant praise of righteousness you have reached this state: your wealth is gone, your eye is lost, your tender hands are severed. You have been questioned, friend; I am leaving. Do not speak thus in another tale.” When the Brahmin had departed, the merchant pondered in his heart, “Alas, what misery has befallen me, O Hari, who am devoted solely to righteousness!” Now poor, armless, and blind, overcome with grief, the merchant chief could think of nothing but righteousness, and continued to remember it alone.