Chapter
LXIII
The next
morning Naraváhanadatta woke up, and thinking on his beloved Śaktiyaśas, became
distracted. And thinking that the rest of the month, until he married her, was
as long as an age, he could not find pleasure in anything, as his mind was
longing for a new wife. When the king, his father, heard that from the mouth of
Gomukha, out of love for him, he sent him his ministers, and Vasantaka was
among them. Then, out of respect for them, the prince of Vatsa managed to
recover his composure. And the discreet minister Gomukha said to Vasantaka;
“Noble Vasantaka, tell some new and romantic tale to delight the mind of the
crown-prince. Then the wise Vasantaka began to tell this tale.
Story
of Yaśodhara and Lakshmídhara and the two wives of the water-genius
There was a
famous Bráhman in Málava, named Śrídhara. And twin sons, of like feature, were
born to him. The eldest was named Yaśodhara, and his younger brother was
Lakshmídhara. And when they grew up, the two brothers set out together for a
foreign country to study, with the approval of their father. And as they were
travelling along, they reached a great wilderness, without water, without the
shade of trees, full of burning sand; and being fatigued with passing through
it, and exhausted with heat and thirst, they reached in the evening a shady
tree laden with fruit. And they saw, at a little distance from its foot, a lake
with cold and clear water, perfumed with the fragrance of lotuses. They bathed
in it, and refreshed themselves with drinking the cold water, and sitting down
on a slab of rock, rested for a time. And when the sun set, they said their
evening prayers, and through fear of wild beasts they climbed up the tree, to
spend the night there. And in the beginning of the night, many men rose out of
the water of that tank below them, before their eyes. And one of them swept the
ground, another painted it, and another strewed on it flowers of five colours.
And another brought a golden couch and placed it there, and another spread on
it a mattress with a coverlet. Another brought, and placed in a certain spot,
under the tree, delicious food and drink, flowers and unguents. Then there
arose from the surface of that lake a man wearing a sword, and adorned with
heavenly ornaments, surpassing in beauty the god of Love. When he had sat down
on the couch, his attendants threw garlands round his neck, and anointed him
with unguents, and then they all plunged again into the lake. Then he brought
out of his mouth a lady of noble form and modest appearance, wearing auspicious
garlands and ornaments, and a second, rich in celestial beauty, resplendent
with magnificent robes and ornaments. These were both his wives, but the second
was the favourite. Then the first and good wife placed jewelled plates on the
table, and handed food in two plates to her husband and her rival. When they
had eaten, she also ate; and then her husband reclined on the couch with the
rival wife, and went to sleep. And the first wife shampooed his feet, and the
second remained awake on the couch.
When the
Bráhman’s sons who were in the tree, saw this, they said to one another, “Who
can this be? Let us go down and ask the lady who is shampooing his feet, for
all these are immortal beings.” Then they got down and approached the first
wife, and then the second saw Yaśodhara: then she rose up from the couch in her
inordinate passion, while her husband was asleep, and approaching that handsome
youth, said, “Be my lover.” He answered, “Wicked woman, you are to me the wife
of another, and I am to you a strange man. Then why do you speak thus?” She
answered, “I have had a hundred lovers. Why are you afraid? If you do not
believe it, look at these hundred rings, for I have taken one ring from each of
them.” With these words she took the rings out of the corner of her garment,
and shewed them to him. Then Yaśodhara said, “I do not care whether you have a
hundred or a hundred thousand lovers, to me you are as a mother; I am not a
person of that sort.” When the wicked woman was repelled by him in this way,
she woke up her husband in her wrath, and, pointing to Yaśodhara, said with
tears, “This scoundrel, while you were asleep, used violence to me.” When her
husband heard this, he rose up and drew his sword. Then the first and virtuous
wife embraced his feet, and said, “Do not commit a crime on false evidence.
Hear what I have to say. This wicked woman, when she saw him, rose up from your
side, and eagerly importuned him, and the virtuous man did not consent to her
proposal.” When he repelled her, saying, ‘You are to me as a mother,’ being
unable to endure that, in her anger she woke you up, to make you kill him. And
she has already before my eyes had a hundred lovers here on various nights, travellers
who were reposing in this tree, and taken their rings from them. But I never
told you, not wishing to give rise to unpleasantness. However, to-day I am
necessarily compelled to reveal this secret, lest you should be guilty of a
crime. Just look at the rings in the corner of her garment, if you do not
believe it. And my wifely virtue is of such a kind that I cannot tell my
husband what is untrue. In order that you may be convinced of my faithfulness,
see this proof of my power.” After saying this, she reduced that tree to ashes
with an angry look, and restored it more magnificent than it was before with a
look of kindness. When her husband saw that, he was at last satisfied and
embraced her. And he sent that second wife, the adulteress, about her business,
after cutting off her nose, and taking the rings from the corner of her
garment.
He
restrained his anger, when he beheld that student of the scripture, Yaśodhara,
with his brother, and he said to him despondingly; “Out of jealousy I always
keep these wives of mine in my heart. But still I have not been able to keep
safe this wicked woman. Who can arrest the lightning? Who can guard a disloyal
woman? As for a chaste woman, she is guarded by her own modesty alone, and
being guarded by it, she guards her husband in both worlds, as I have to-day
been guarded by this woman, whose patience is more admirable even than her
power of cursing. By her kindness I have got rid of an unfaithful wife, and
avoided the awful crime of killing a virtuous Bráhman.” When he had said this,
he made Yaśodhara sit down, and said to him, “Tell me whence you come and
whither you are going.” Then Yaśodhara told him his history, and having gained
his confidence, said to him out of curiosity, “Noble sir, if it is not a
secret, tell me now, who you are, and why, though you possess such luxury, you
dwell in the water.” When the man who lived in the water heard this, he said,
“Hear! I will tell you.” And he began to tell his history in the following
words.
Story
of the water-genius in his previous birth.
There is a
region in the south of the Himálaya, called Kaśmíra; which Providence seems to
have created in order to prevent mortals from hankering after Heaven; where
Śiva and Vishṇu, as self-existent deities, inhabit a hundred shrines,
forgetting their happy homes in Kailása and Śvetadvípa; which is laved by the
waters of the Vitastá, and full of heroes and sages, and proof against
treacherous crimes and enemies, though powerful. There I was born in my former
life, as an ordinary villager of the Bráhman caste, with two wives, and my name
was Bhavaśarman. There I once struck up a friendship with some Buddhist
mendicants, and undertook the vow, called the fast Uposhaṇa, prescribed in
their scriptures. And when this vow was almost completed, one of my wives wickedly
came and slept in my bed. And in the fourth watch of the night, bewildered with
sleep, I broke my vow. But as it fell only a little short of completion, I have
been born as a water-genius, and these two wives of mine have been born as my
present wives here. That wicked woman was born as that unfaithful wife, the
second as this faithful one. So great was the power of my vow, though it was
rendered imperfect, that I remember my former birth, and enjoy such luxuries
every night. If I had not rendered my vow imperfect, I should never have been
born as what I am.
When he had
told his story in these words, he honoured those two brothers as guests, with
delicious food and heavenly garments. Then his faithful wife, having heard of
her former life, knelt on the ground, and looking at the moon, uttered this
prayer, “O guardians of the world, if I am in truth virtuous and devoted to my
husband, may this husband of mine be at once delivered from the necessity of
dwelling in the water and go to heaven.” The moment she had said this, a
chariot descended from heaven, and the husband and wife ascended it and went to
heaven. Nothing in the three worlds is unattainable by really chaste women. And
the two Bráhmans, when they saw that, were greatly astonished. And Yaśodhara
and Lakshmídhara, after spending the rest of the night there, set out in the
morning. And in the evening they reached the foot of a tree in a lonely
wilderness. And while they were longing to get water, they heard this voice
from the tree, “Wait a little, Bráhmans! I will entertain you to-day with a
bath and food, for you are come to my house.” Then the voice ceased, and there
sprang up there a tank of water, and meats and drinks of every kind were
provided on its bank. The two Bráhman youths said with astonishment to one
another,—“What does this mean?” And after bathing in the tank, they ate and
drank. Then they said the evening prayer and remained under the tree, and in
the meanwhile a handsome man appeared from it. They saluted him, and he
welcomed them, and he sat down. Thereupon the two Bráhman youths asked him who
he was. Then the man said—
Story
of the Bráhman who became a Yaksha.
Long ago I
was a Bráhman in distress, and when I was in this condition, I happened to make
friends with some Buddhist ascetics. But while I was performing the vow called
Uposhaṇa, which they had taught me, a wicked man made me take food in the
evening by force. That made my vow incomplete, so I was born as a Guhyaka; if I
had only completed it, I should have been born as a god in heaven.
“So I have
told you my story, but now do you two tell me, who you are, and why you have
come to this desert.” When Yaśodhara heard this, he told him their story.
Thereupon the Yaksha went on to say; “If this is the case, I will by my own power
bestow on you the sciences. Go home with a knowledge of them. What is the use
of roaming about in foreign countries?” When he had said this, he bestowed on
them the sciences, and by his power they immediately possessed them. Then the
Yaksha said to them, “Now I entreat you to give me a fee as your instructor.
You must perform, on my behalf, this Uposhaṇa vow, which involves the speaking
of the truth, the observing of strict chastity, the circumambulating the images
of the gods with the right side turned towards them, the eating only at the
time when Buddhist mendicants do, restraint of the mind, and patience. You must
perform this for one night, and bestow the fruit of it on me, in order that I
may obtain that divinity, which is the proper fruit of my vow, when completely
performed.” When the Yaksha said this, they bowed before him and granted his
request, and he disappeared in that very same tree.
And the two
brothers, delighted at having accomplished their object without any toil, after
they had passed the night, returned to their own home. There they told their
adventures and delighted their parents, and performed that vow of fasting for
the benefit of the Yaksha. Then that Yaksha, who taught them, appeared in a
sky-chariot, and said to them; “Through your kindness I have ceased to be a
Yaksha and have become a god. So now you must perform this vow for your own
advantage, in order that at your death you may attain divinity. And in the
meanwhile I give you a boon, by which you will have inexhaustible wealth.” When
the deity, who roamed about at will, had said this, he went to heaven in his
chariot. Then the two brothers, Yaśodhara and Lakshmídhara, lived happily,
having performed that vow, and having obtained wealth and knowledge.
“So you see
that, if men are addicted to righteousness, and do not, even in emergencies,
desert their principles, even the gods protect them and cause them to attain
their objects.” Naraváhanadatta, while longing for his beloved Śaktiyaśas, was
much delighted with this marvellous story told by Vasantaka; but having been
summoned by his father at the dinner hour, he went to his palace with his
ministers. There he took the requisite refreshment, and returned to his palace,
with Gomukha and his other ministers. Then Gomukha, in order to amuse him,
again said,—“Listen, prince, I will tell you another string of tales.”
Story
of the monkey and the porpoise.
There lived
in a forest of uḍumbaras, on the shore of the sea, a king of monkeys, named
Valímukha, who had strayed from his troop. While he was eating an uḍumbara
fruit, it fell from his hand and was devoured by a porpoise that lived in the
water of the sea. The porpoise, delighted at the taste of the fruit, uttered a
melodious sound, which pleased the monkey so much, that he threw him many more
fruits. And so the monkey went on throwing fruits, and the porpoise went on
making a melodious sound, until a friendship sprang up between them. So every
day the porpoise spent the day in the water near the monkey, who remained on
the bank, and in the evening he went home.
Then the
wife of the porpoise came to learn the facts, and as she did not approve of the
friendship between the monkey and her husband, which caused the latter to be
absent all day, she pretended to be ill. Then the porpoise was afflicted, and
asked his wife again and again what was the nature of her sickness, and what
would cure it. Though he importuned her persistently, she would give no answer,
but at last a female confidante of hers said to him: “Although you will not do
it, and she does not wish you to do it, still I must speak. How can a wise
person conceal sorrow from friends? A violent disease has seized your wife, of
such a kind that it cannot be cured without soup made of the lotus-like heart
of a monkey.” When the porpoise heard this from his wife’s confidante, he
reflected;—“Alas! how shall I obtain the lotus-like heart of a monkey? Is it
right for me to plot treachery against the monkey, who is my friend? On the
other hand how else can I cure my wife, whom I love more than my life?” When
the porpoise had thus reflected, he said to his wife; “I will bring you a whole
monkey, my dear, do not be unhappy.” When he had said this, he went to his
friend the monkey, and said to him, after he had got into conversation; “Up to
this day you have never seen my home and my wife; so come, let us go and rest
there one day. Friendship is but hollow, when friends do not go without
ceremony and eat at one another’s houses, and introduce their wives to one
another.” With these words the porpoise beguiled the monkey, and induced him to
come down into the water, and took him on his back and set out. And as he was
going along, the monkey saw that he was troubled and confused, and said, “My
friend, you seem to be altered to-day.” And when he went on persistently
enquiring the reason, the stupid porpoise, thinking that the ape was in his
power, said to him; “The fact is, my wife is ill, and she has been asking me
for the heart of a monkey to be used as a remedy; that is why I am in low
spirits to-day.” When the wise monkey heard this speech of his, he reflected,
“Ah! This is why the villain has brought me here! Alas! this fellow is
overpowered by infatuation for a female, and is ready to plot treachery against
his friend. Will not a person possessed by a demon eat his own flesh with his
teeth?” After the monkey had thus reflected, he said to the porpoise; “If this is
the case, why did you not inform me of this before, my friend? I will go and
get my heart for your wife. For I have at present left it on the uḍumbara-tree
on which I live. When the silly porpoise heard this, he was sorry and he said;
“Then bring it, my friend, from the uḍumbara-tree.” And thereupon the porpoise
took him back to the shore of the sea. When he got there, he bounded up the
bank, as if he had just escaped from the grasp of death, and climbing up to the
top of the tree, said to that porpoise, “Off with you, you fool! Does any
animal keep his heart outside his body? However, by this artifice I have saved
my life, and I will not return to you. Have you not heard, my friend, the story
of the ass?”
Story
of the sick lion, the jackal, and the ass
There lived
in a certain forest a lion, who had a jackal for a minister. A certain king,
who had gone to hunt, once found him, and wounded him so sorely with his
weapons, that he with difficulty escaped to his den alive. When the king was
gone, the lion still remained in the den, and his minister, the jackal, who
lived on his leavings, being exhausted for want of food, said to him; “My lord,
why do you not go out and seek for food to the best of your ability, for your
own body is being famished as well as your attendants?” When the jackal said
this to the lion, he answered; “My friend, I am exhausted with wounds, and I
cannot roam about outside my den. If I could get the heart and ears of a donkey
to eat, my wounds would heal, and I should recover my former health. So go and
bring me a donkey quickly from somewhere or other.” The jackal agreed to do so
and sallied out. As he was wandering about, he found a washerman’s ass in a
solitary place, and he went up to him, and said in a friendly way; “Why are you
so exhausted?” The donkey answered, “I am reduced by perpetually carrying this
washerman’s load.” The jackal said, “Why do you endure all this toil? Come with
me and I will take you to a forest as delightful as Heaven, where you may grow
fat in the society of she-asses.” When the donkey, who was longing for
enjoyment, heard this, he went to the forest, in which that lion ranged, in the
company of that jackal. And when the lion saw him, being weak from impaired
vitality, he only gave him a blow with his paw behind, and the donkey, being
wounded by the blow, was terrified and fled immediately, and did not come near
the lion again, and the lion fell down confused and bewildered. And then the
lion, not having accomplished his object, hastily returned to his den. Then the
jackal, his minister, said to him reproachfully; “My lord, if you could not
kill this miserable donkey, what chance is there of your killing deer and other
animals?” Then the lion said to him, “If you know how, bring that donkey again.
I will be ready and kill him.”
When the lion had despatched the
jackal with these words, he went to the donkey and said; “Why did you run away,
sir? And the donkey answered, “I received a blow from some creature.” Then the
jackal laughed and said, “You must have experienced a delusion. There is no
such creature there, for I, weak as I am, dwell there, in safety. So come along
with me to that forest, where pleasure is without restraint.” When he said
this, the donkey was deluded, and returned to the forest. And as soon as the
lion saw him, he came out of his den, and springing on him from behind, tore
him with his claws and killed him. And the lion, after he had divided the
donkey, placed the jackal to guard it, and being fatigued, went away to bathe.
And in the meanwhile the deceitful jackal devoured the heart and ears of that
donkey, to gratify his appetite. The lion, after bathing, came back, and
perceiving the donkey in this condition, asked the jackal where its ears and
heart were. The jackal answered him; “The creature never possessed ears or a
heart,—otherwise how could he have returned when he had once escaped?” When the
lion heard that, he believed it, and ate his flesh, and the jackal devoured
what remained over.
When the
ape had told this tale, he said again to the porpoise; “I will not come again,
why should I behave like the jackass.” When the porpoise heard this from the
monkey, he returned home, grieving that he had through his folly failed to
execute his wife’s commission, while he had lost a friend. But his wife
recovered her former tranquillity, on account of the termination of her
husband’s friendship with the ape. And the ape lived happily on the shore of
the sea.
“So a wise
person should place no confidence in a wicked person. How can he, who confides in
a wicked person or a black cobra, enjoy prosperity?” When Gomukha had told this
story, he again said to Naraváhanadatta, to amuse him; “Now hear in succession
about the following ridiculous fools. Hear first about the fool who rewarded
the minstrel.”
Story
of the fool who gave a verbal reward to the musician
A certain
musician once gave great pleasure to a rich man, by singing and playing before
him. He thereupon called his treasurer, and said in the hearing of the
musician, “Give this man two thousand paṇas.” The treasurer said, “I will do
so,” and went out. Then the minstrel went and asked him for those paṇas. But
the treasurer, who had an understanding with his master, refused to give them.
Then the
musician came and asked the rich man for the paṇas, but he said; “What did you
give me, that I should make you a return? You gave a short-lived pleasure to my
ears by playing on the lyre, and I gave a short-lived pleasure to your ears by
promising you money.” When the musician heard that, he despaired of his
payment, laughed, and went home.
“Would not
that speech of the miser’s make even a stone laugh? And now, prince, hear the
story of the two foolish pupils.”
Story
of the teacher and his two jealous pupils.
A certain
teacher had two pupils who were jealous of one another. And one of those pupils
washed and anointed every day the right foot of his instructor, and the other
did the same to the left foot. Now it happened that one day the pupil, whose
business it was to anoint the right foot, had been sent to the village, so the
teacher said to the second pupil, whose business it was to anoint the left
foot,—“To-day you must wash and anoint my right foot also.” When the foolish
pupil received this order, he coolly said to his teacher; “I cannot anoint this
foot that belongs to my rival.” When he said this, the teacher insisted. Then
that pupil, who was the very opposite of a good pupil, took hold of his
teacher’s foot in a passion, and exerting great force, broke it. Then the
teacher uttered a cry of pain, and the other pupils came in and beat that
wicked pupil, but he was rescued from them by that teacher, who felt sorry for
him.
The next
day, the other pupil came back from the village, and when he saw the injury
that had been done to his teacher’s foot, he asked the history of it, and then
he was inflamed with rage, and he said, “Why should I not break the foot that
belongs to that enemy of mine?” So he laid hold of the teacher’s second leg,
and broke it. Then the others began to beat that wicked pupil, but the teacher,
both of whose legs were broken, in compassion begged him off too. Then those
two pupils departed, laughed to scorn by the whole country, but their teacher,
who deserved so much credit for his patient temper, gradually got well.
Thus
foolish attendants, by quarrelling with one another, ruin their master’s
interests, and do not reap any advantage for themselves. Hear the story of the
two-headed serpent.
Story
of the snake with two heads.
A certain
snake had two heads, one in the usual place and one in his tail. But the head,
that he had in his tail, was blind, the head, that was in the usual place, was
furnished with eyes. And there was a quarrel between them, each saying that it
was the principal head. Now the serpent usually roamed about with his real head
foremost. But once on a time the head in the tail caught hold of a piece of
wood, and fastening firmly round it, prevented that snake from going on. The
consequence was that the snake considered this head very powerful, as it had
vanquished the head in front. And so the snake roamed about with his blind head
foremost, and in a hole he fell into fire, owing to his not being able to see
the way, and so he was burnt.
Story
of the fool who was nearly choked with rice.
“So those
foolish people, many in number, who are quite at home in a small
accomplishment, through their attachment to this unimportant accomplishment,
are brought to ruin.”
“Hear now
about the fool who ate the grains of rice.”
A certain
foolish person came for the first time to his father-in-law’s house, and there
he saw some white grains of rice, which his mother-in-law had put down to be
cooked, and he put a handful of them into his mouth, meaning to eat them. And
his mother-in-law came in that very moment. Then the foolish man was so
ashamed, that he could not swallow the grains of rice, nor bring them up. And
his mother-in law, seeing that his throat was swollen and distended, and that
he was speechless, was afraid that he was ill, and summoned her husband. And
he, when he saw his state, quickly brought the physician, and the physician,
fearing that there was an internal tumour, seized the head of that fool and
opened his jaw. Then the grains of rice came out, and all those present
laughed.
“Thus a
fool does an unseemly act, and does not know how to conceal it.”
Story
of the boys that milked the donkey.
Certain
foolish boys, having observed the process of milking in the case of cows, got a
donkey, and having surrounded it, proceeded to milk it vigorously. One milked
and another held the milk-pail, and there was great emulation among them, as to
who should first drink the milk. And yet they did not obtain milk, though they
laboured hard.
“The fact
is, prince, a fool, who spends his labour on a chimera, makes himself ridiculous.”
Story
of the foolish boy that went to the village for nothing.
There was a
certain foolish son of a Bráhman, and his father said to him one evening, “My
son, you must go to the village early to-morrow.” Having heard this, he set out
in the morning, without asking his father what he was to do, and went to the
village without any object, and came back in the evening fatigued. He said to
his father, “I have been to the village.” “Yes, but you have not done any good
by it,” answered his father.
“So a fool,
who acts without an object, becomes the laughing-stock of people generally; he
suffers fatigue, but does not do any good.” When the son of the king of Vatsa
had heard from Gomukha, his chief minister, this series of tales, rich in
instruction, and had declared that he was longing to obtain Śaktiyaśas, and had
perceived that the night was far spent, he closed his eyes in sleep, and
reposed surrounded by his ministers.
0 Comments
If you have any Misunderstanding Please let me know