by Visnu Sarma
he is content to pay court to another.’
To which the lion replied, ‘Good friend, even so, I cannot find it in my heart to turn against Lively. For:
(223) Who in the world does not love his body
however tainted by defects it might be;
once dear, a person remains always dear,
no matter what offences he’s guilty of.
‘And,
(224) Disagreeable his actions might be,
harsh and cruel his speech as well;
at all times, a person dear to one,
will ever cause the heart to fill with joy.’
Wily retorted, ‘Ah! isn’t that precisely the trouble with elevation to greatness, though? He whom the master made his mainstay, on whom he put his whole trust to the exclusion of all his other subjects, he is the very person who now aims to be master himself. Is it not true then:
(225) A man may be of mean or of noble birth,
once the royal eye looks on him with too much favour,
he finds himself beguiled by the charms
of Her Ladyship, Royal Sovereignty.
‘Therefore, my lord, this Lively who is the current favourite should be out of favour on account of his treachery; he should be rejected. For indeed, it is excellently spoken:
(226) A kinsman of honour most worthy,
a son or brother or friend dearly loved,
who turns his face away from rectitude through folly
deserves rejection by those who seek success.
Widely-known in the world is this saying— women sing it too:
‘What use are rings of gold if they make your ears sore!’
‘And in case my lord thinks, “Lively… he is of enormous bulk… he might be of great service to me” —that too, I submit, is a false assumption.
(227) What use is a fractious tusker
that will not serve the king?
A man may be fat, a man may be lean;
he is best who gets things done right.
‘Perhaps His Majesty’s heart is moved by compassion for Lively; that is not politic either. For it is well-known:
(228) A man who leaves the righteous path
to pursue an unrighteous course,
will in time fall on evil times
and reap the bitter fruit of remorse.
(229) Let a man but fail to accept advice
most excellent offered by friends,
he will in no time fall from his place
and come under the sway of his foes.
‘It is a fact that:
(230) Although maxims of practical wisdom justly state
what may be done and what may not, the low and vulgar
in their loose thinking pay no heed, as if they lacked for ears,
but pursue the wrong course without let or hindrance.
‘Moreover:
(231) Where one will speak and one will listen
to counsel beneficial in the end
though harsh and hateful at the time,
there prosperity delights to dwell.
‘In addition:
(232) For ministers appointed to high office,
to mislead princes whose spies serve as their eyes
is neither right nor wise.
Bear, therefore with what’s unpleasant, or pleasant, O King;
advice both pleasing and salutary is hard to find.
(233) Never should a newcomer be favoured
at the cost of slighting the family retainer;
no weapon is more effective than this
in sowing dissension in the realm.’
To this, the lion replied, ‘No, no, my good friend, pray do not say such things; for it is well-known that:
(234) Once acclaimed in the open Assembly
as, ‘Behold, here is a man of merit’,
he must not be cried down as lacking all merit
for fear of one’s convictions appearing shaky.
‘And what’s more, considering I granted him sanctuary at the time Lively came to me as a suppliant, how then can he now prove so ungrateful?’
Wily at once retorted:
(235) ‘Does a scoundrel require provocation
to fly into a great rage?
Or a saint need kindness to make him calm?
Isn’t it just the same with lime and sugarcane?
It is the inherent nature of each
to produce its own flavour distinctive.
‘And this too is true:
(236) Try your very best to honour a rogue
he will still remain true to his nature.
You may have a dog sweated,
or rubbed with musk if you choose,
his tail still remains curled.
‘And I say more:
(237) Even small favours shown to men
richly blessed with a wealth of merits, look great;
The moon’s rays are enhanced, indeed
when they shine over the peaks of Snow Mountain.30
‘Whereas:
(238) The favours of the meritorious
bestowed on those devoid of merit
perish like moonbeams falling on the peaks
of the Mountain of Black Resin in the darkness of night.
‘And what’s more:
(239) Lost are a hundred kindnesses
shown to the base;
lost are a hundred wise maxims
spoken to fools;
lost are a hundred words of advice
on the incorrigible;
lost are a hundred sage observations
on the dull-witted.
(240) Lost are gifts heaped on the undeserving;
lost is benefaction on the mean-spirited.
lost are good deeds on the ungrateful;
lost is courtesy on those unused to it.
‘Add to this, my lord:
(241) A cry in the wilderness;
rubbing perfume on a corpse;
planting lotuses on dry ground;
incessant rain o’er salt-marshes,
adorning the faces of the blind—
like these is speaking good sense to fools.
‘What’s more:
(242) To persist in milking a bull, thinking:
‘O! What a great udder, it must be a cow’:
To embrace a eunuch, exclaiming:
‘Ah! A young maiden of elegant charm’:
To pick up a bit of glass cut to catch light
and sparkle, mistaking it for a sapphire:
O! How vain and useless!
So is the delight in serving the witless
that is born of blind affection for them.
‘Therefore, our good counsel should never be brushed aside by our lord and master. As the oft-quoted saying goes:
(243) What tiger, monkey, snake advised,
I did not follow: And therefore
have I now been brought to this pass
by the tricks of this scurvy fellow.’
Tawny asked, ‘And how did that happen?’
Then, Wily began his tale—the tale of The Grateful Beasts and the Ungrateful Man.
In a certain town there lived a Brāhmana named Yajnadatta.31 His wife, worn down by grinding poverty reproached him daily, saying, ‘O Brāhmana! You sluggard! You stone-heart! Can’t you see the children suffering, pinched by hunger? Yet you sit there, and not a care in the world? Go, go and find something to do… to provide food for us… anything that’s within your power… and come back quickly….’
Finally, tired of listening to his wife’s daily complaints, the Brāhmana decided to go on a long journey and left home. In a few days he found himself entering a great forest. Wandering about in it, he soon grew parched with thirst and started searching for water. He chanced upon a spot where there was a well, overgrown with long grass. Peering into it, he saw down at the bottom a tiger, a monkey, a snake and a man. They saw him too.
The tiger was the first to react; ‘Ah! Here comes a man,’ the tig
er thought to himself; and he called out, ‘O noble soul! The saving of life is the noblest of virtues; consider that and pray pull me out so that I may once more live happily in the midst of wife and children, kinsfolk and dear friends.’
Yajnadatta answered, ‘Ah! The very mention of your name strikes terror into the hearts of all living beings. I am afraid of you, I swear.’
But the tiger did not give up, and spoke again,
(244) ‘The slayer of a Brāhmana, a drunkard,
an impotent man, a breaker of vows,
a traitor—for all these the wise prescribe
rites of atonement—for the ungrateful, none.’
And he added, ‘I bind myself with the triple oath. Therefore, there is no reason for you to fear me. Be merciful and help me out.’
The Brāhmana communed with himself, thus, ‘Well, if misfortune strikes one as a result of saving a life, then so be it; and count it a blessing.’ Coming to this conclusion, Yajnadatta pulled the tiger out of the well.
Now it was the monkey’s turn, ‘O virtuous man! I beg you; please help me out too.’ Heeding the monkey’s plea, the Brāhmana pulled him out.
Next the snake spoke, ‘O Twice-born!32 Please help me out too.’ And the Brāhmana hearing those words, said, ‘Good Heavens! Simply the mention of your name makes every one quake with fear; how much more to touch you.’
‘Sir, we are not free agents,’ answered the snake, ‘we would not bite a soul if we were not constrained to do so. But to reassure you, I shall bind myself with the triple oath; do not be afraid of me.’
The snake swore his oath and the Brāhmana lifted him out. Then they all advised him earnestly saying, ‘Listen, you see that fellow down there. He is the repository of a legion of evils. Don’t help him to get out of the well. Beware; don’t trust him an inch.’
The tiger, as he was preparing to return home, said, ‘You see yonder, sir, that mountain with many peaks? That’s where my home is, in a ravine on the north slope. You should come there sometime and do me the honour of a visit, so that I may have the opportunity to return your kindness. I would be reluctant to carry forward into my next birth, the debt I owe you in this.’ With these words he set off towards his home.
The monkey now told the Brāhmana, ‘Sir, my home is also in that same region, near a cave beside a mountain torrent. Do visit me there, without fail.’ And he bounded off in that direction.
The snake then spoke, ‘Whenever you are in dire need of any sort, just think of me.’ And he slid away in the direction he had come from.
All this time the man in the well had been shouting, calling for help, ‘O Brāhmana, good sir, help me, pull me out please.’
At last the Brāhmana relented, thinking, ‘After all, he is a man even as I am.’ And out of pity he helped the man out of the well.
‘I am a goldsmith, sir,’ said the man as soon as he had got up safely, ‘and I live at Bhrgu-Kaccha.33 Any time you have gold to be worked into ornaments, just bring it to me.’ And the goldsmith walked away towards his native city.
The Brāhmana continued roaming in the forest, looking and searching, but found nothing whatsoever; so he turned his steps toward home. On the way he remembered the monkey’s invitation; he went there and found the monkey at home. The monkey welcomed him and offered the most delicious fruit, sweet as ambrosia. When Yajnadatta had eaten his fill and was refreshed, the monkey said, ‘Friend, if this fruit serves your needs in any way, don’t hesitate to come here daily and visit me; and you’ll receive it.’ The grateful Brāhmana responded warmly, ‘Your Honour has served me in full measure, nothing lacking. But there is one little favour I would ask of you; would you direct me to the tiger’s home?’
The monkey took him along to where the tiger lived. Recognizing Yajnadatta at once, the tiger, eager to repay the former’s kindness, brought out a necklace and other ornaments of wrought gold and explained, ‘Sir, sometime back, a certain prince whose horse had run away with him came here alone. When he was within range of my spring, I killed him and removed all this from his person. I have looked after these and kept them safely for you. Here, accept these gifts and then continue on your journey as you please.’
Yajnadatta accepted the tiger’s gifts and as he walked, he recalled the goldsmith’s parting words. ‘Yes, that’s where I shall go next; I’m sure the goldsmith will help me by selling these ornaments of gold.’ So he did.
The goldsmith received the Brāhmana with great respect, offering him all due hospitality: water for washing his feet, the customary guest-offering of milk, honey and other appropriate articles; and offered the Brāhmana a comfortable seat. Then, having feasted him with fine food and drink and provided whatever else seemed needed to refresh a weary guest, the goldsmith said, ‘Command me, Your Honour; what can I do for you?’
‘I have some gold which I would like you to sell for me, if you will,’ replied Yajnadatta
‘Show it to me,’ said the goldsmith; the Brāhmana did so.
The moment the goldsmith set eyes on the ornaments, he thought to himself, ‘Hey, what’s this? These are the very same ornaments I had made sometime back for our prince.’ Examining the ornaments and making sure that that was indeed the case, the goldsmith said, ‘Wait right here, sir, while I go and show these to someone.’ He then hurried to the palace and showed the jewels to the king who exclaimed in surprise, ‘Where on earth did you get these?’
‘A Brāhmana has come to my house as a guest; he brought these with him, my lord,’ answered the goldsmith.
At once the king’s mind started working, ‘So, this is the villain who killed my son. He will reap the fruit of his evil deed.’ And the king called to the guards and issued orders, ‘Go, seize this accursed Brāhmana, bind him fast and at the first light of dawn, have him impaled.’
When the Brāhmana found himself seized and bound in fetters, he at once thought of the snake who appeared before him the moment he was remembered and said, ‘Sir, what service can I render you?’
‘Release me from these fetters, my friend,’ he replied.
The snake told him, ‘This is what I shall do. I shall go to the palace and bite the king’s beloved wife. Not all the charms and incantations of mighty magic-workers, nor all the medicines and salves that expert physicians use as antidotes against poisons can have any effect to neutralize my poison. I shall see to that; nothing but the touch of your hands will be able to revive the queen. Then they would have to release you.’
Having made this promise, the snake slid quickly to the palace and bit the queen. She fell lifeless. Then there was such an uproar in the palace; wails of despair went up; the whole city was plunged into gloom and confusion; all sorts of experts were summoned or sent for. And they all came, hurrying: magic-workers and exorcists, persons who used bird-charms against snake bites; physicians skilled in the knowledge and use of different antidotes for snake-venom; even persons from other lands who were versed in the lore of poisons arrived at the palace. They all tried their best, using all the skills they possessed, applying salves, administering every treatment they knew of or muttering incantations and devising charms. But to no avail. The queen lay in the grip of the deadly poison. Finally a proclamation was made throughout the city by beat of drums. Hearing it the Brāhmana volunteered, ‘I think I can neutralize the poison and revive the queen.’ No sooner had the words left his mouth than the guards freed Yajnadatta, took him to the palace and ushered him into the royal presence.
‘Sir, can you restore the queen to life?’ asked the king. The Brāhmana went to the queen’s bedside and by the touch of his hands neutralized the poison and brought her back to life. The king was overjoyed at seeing his dear wife restored to life and health; grateful, he paid Yajnadatta great honour, treated him royally and then asked him courteously, ‘Sir, please tell me the truth; how did you come by all this gold?’
Thereupon, the Brāhmana related the whole story in detail, right from the start. The king, now in possession of all the facts, imme
diately ordered the goldsmith’s arrest and rewarded the Brāhmana with the gift of a thousand villages and also made him the prime minister. Yajnadatta brought his family over. By taking charge of all matters of state and administering the kingdom well and by performing many sacrifices and amassing spiritual merit, he lived in great happiness surrounded by family and friends, enjoying all the comforts that life could provide.
‘Therefore I say, my lord, “What tiger, monkey, snake, advised….’’’ And Wily continued,
(245) ‘A kinsman or friend, an elder,34 or king,
pursuing a wrong path ought to be restrained.
Fail to correct his ways, and you find yourself
eventually being controlled by his will.
‘My lord, Lively is clearly a traitor; but:
(246) The bounden duty of the benevolent
is to painstakingly save friends bent on evil;
this is the true and only righteous way;
any other way the wise declare unrighteous.
‘For we know this:
(247) He is kindly who preserves a pure act from violation;
She is a true wife who displays compliance;
he who is honoured by the learned is esteemed intelligent;
true greatness is that which does not breed arrogance;
Only he finds peace who is not tormented by greed;
he is truly a friend who does not exploit a friend;
he is a man who is not cast down in adversity.
‘As well, my lord:
(248) A man may sleep with his head in the fire,
or even rest on a couch of serpents,
but never should he hold in high regard
a good friend who is hell-bent on evil.
‘This evil in the shape of Lively’s society has turned out detrimental in three ways35 to His Majesty. If His Majesty disregards our good counsel which has been articulated clearly in a number of ways, and if he chooses to go his own way as he pleases, then the minister can in no way bear the blame, in case His Majesty comes to grief in the future. For it is wisely observed that:
(249) When a king driven by passions reckons not
what is good and what is proper but charges around
wherever his fancy leads him, swollen with pride,
he plunges down misery’s dark ravine
like an excited bull-elephant.
Then, heedless of his own disorderliness