The Pancatantra

by Visnu Sarma

  After listening to his friend’s reproach, Wheelbearer admitted ruefully, ‘Ah, my friend, what you say is true; and the proverb says it too:

  (46) He who has no wit of his own

  nor sense to listen to a friend,

  like Dull the weaver in the tale

  will meet a miserable end.’

  ‘And how did that happen?’ asked Goldfinder. And then Wheelbearer began the tale of The Dull-witted Weaver.

  Once, a weaver named Dull lived in a certain settlement. It happened one day that the wooden frame and pegs of his loom simply broke. So, picking up an axe, Dull went looking for wood, and wandering everywhere, he finally came to the seashore where he saw a great śiśam tree growing. He looked up at it and started thinking, ‘O, what a mighty tree. If I cut it down I would be able to make as many tools for my trade as I would ever need.’ As he lifted up his axe to hit the first blow to fell the tree, he heard a voice speaking to him. It was the tree-spirit who had his home in the śiśam: ‘Sir, this tree is my home; please spare it at all costs, for I live here in utmost comfort and happiness because the breezes cooled by the ocean-spray refresh my limbs.’

  To this the weaver replied, ‘O, tree-spirit, what can I do? Without my tools which are all of wood, my family will be subject to hunger and starvation. Why don’t you leave this tree and go and live elsewhere; for I must cut this tree down.’

  The tree-spirit answered, ‘Well, Sir Weaver; indeed I am pleased with you. Ask for anything that you wish and I shall grant it; only spare my tree.’

  ‘Well,’ observed Dull a little hesitantly, ‘if you say so. I shall go home first, consult my friend and my wife and then come back.’

  The tree-spirit agreed and the weaver started home. As he was entering the settlement whom should he see but his good friend, the barber. ‘Well met, my friend,’ said Dull accosting the barber. ‘I have won the favour of a tree-spirit who has offered me the choice of a boon. So, advise me, what shall I ask for?’

  ‘Is that so?’ exclaimed the barber surprised. ‘Ask for a kingdom, I’d say. You shall be king and i shall be minister. Together the two of us shall enjoy all the pleasures of this world and go on to taste happiness in the other.’

  ‘Splendid idea, my friend,’ said the weaver, ‘now let me also consult my wife.’

  ‘No, no, don’t do that, Dull, my friend,’ the barber hastened to say, ‘Women should never be consulted, you know. For surely you are aware of the common observation:

  (47) Give a woman fine foods and clothes,

  ornaments as well; and be nice;

  most of all, approach her at proper times,23

  but never ask her for advice.

  ‘And further:

  (48) Where a young boy, where a woman,

  rules the roost; or a charlatan,

  that house goes to rack and ruin:

  such is sage Bhārgava’s24 opinion.

  ‘Moreover:

  (49) Only so long as a man pays no heed

  to women’s secret whispers,

  will he remain devoted to elders,

  and a man of importance, indeed.

  (50) Wholly self-centred are all women;

  self-gratification their sole concern:

  no one, not even their own sons

  are truly dear to them

  except as part of their own well-being

  ‘That may well be,’ retorted Dull, ‘but I still ought to consult her because she is a loyal wife.’

  With these words, Dull made haste to get home and said to his wife, ‘My dearest wife, today we have won the favour of a tree-spirit who is willing to grant us anything we ask for. So I have rushed home to ask for your advice. Tell me, what shall I ask for? My good friend, the barber, advised me to ask for a kingdom.’ And his wife replied with a lofty air, ‘Ah, my lord, what sense do barbers have? Pray do not heed his advice. We are all aware of the common saying:

  (51) Never consult with bards and boys

  and wandering minstrels,

  or with barbers and base-born churls,

  with hermits and mendicants as well.

  ‘And further, consider how onerous is the government of a kingdom with all that it involves; a host of problems relating to war and peace, invasions, and containments, alliances and intrigue and other matters of policy, that a man can never have peace and happiness. And in addition, as we know:

  (52) Since his very own brothers and sons

  wish to kill a king to gain his realm,

  it is wise to keep one’s distance

  from the business of ruling.’

  ‘Your ladyship has indeed spoken wisely,’ replied the weaver, ‘then tell me, what shall I ask the tree-spirit for?’ His wife then made this suggestion; ‘My lord, as of now, you weave one length of cloth a day; and all our household expenses are met from the sale of that cloth. Now, if you ask the tree spirit to give you an extra pair of hands and a second head, you will be able to weave one length of cloth in front and another behind. While the price of one will meet all our daily expenses comfortably, the sale of the other will provide you with the money to spend on special activities and on luxuries, so that you can live in style among your peers.’

  Dull was delighted with his wife’s suggestion and congratulated her, ‘O, my faithful wife, what a splendid idea!’ he said, ‘Believe me, I shall do just that.’

  Pleased with it all, Dull now returned to the tree-spirit and made his request: ‘O, great spirit, if you wish to show me favour, pray grant me a second pair of hands and a second head to go with it.’ The moment the words were out of his mouth, Dull, the weaver, was transformed into a double-headed, four-armed person. His joy knew no bounds as he walked home. But, alas, as he neared the settlement, people saw him and muttered ominously. ‘Look, look, this is a demon,’ and they started stoning him and beat the poor man with sticks and staves until he dropped dead.

  “Therefore I say to you again, my friend, “The man who has no wit of his own…” and the rest of it, as I said before.’

  Wheelbearer added, ‘Yes, it is true, my friend; any man who is seized by the demon of preposterous hopes and desires becomes the butt of ridicule. How well this is expressed in these lines:

  (53) Whoever indulges in day-dreams

  of an unattainable nature,

  will be on the floor, whitened all over

  by flour, like the father of Moonbeams.’25

  ‘And how did that happen?’ asked Goldfinder eagerly. And then Wheelbearer began the tale of The Day-dreaming Brāhmana.

  Once, in a certain city, there lived a Brāhmana named Misery.26 By begging for alms, he collected barleymeal and after eating part of it stored the rest in a clay jar which he hung on a peg in the wall. Placing his cot right under the jar he gazed up at it for hours each night until he fell into a reverie.

  Night after night he created a scenario in his reverie, which went as follows: ‘Sometime this jar will become completely filled with barleymeal: then a famine will strike this land and the barleymeal will fetch a hundred silver coins. With that money I shall purchase a pair of goats; as goats have kids every six months, I shall soon be able to build up a herd of goats. With those, I shall purchase a pair of cows whose calves I shall of course sell to purchase some mares. As the mares start to foal I shall soon acquire a whole lot of horses. By selling the horses I can amass a great store of gold. With the gold I shall acquire a mansion with a courtyard and large halls. Then someone will come to my mansion and offer me his beautiful daughter blessed with all excellences. A son will be born to us whom I shall name Moonbeams. When he is old enough to crawl on all fours, I shall be sitting one day in the garden behind the stables with a book in my hand and be lost in contemplation. Meanwhile, Moonbeams, my boy, will see me sitting there and getting out of his mother’s arms, will make for me in his eagerness to ride on my knee; but he will go too near the horses. This will make me angry and I shall shout to the Brāhmani, his mother, “Hey, you! catch hold of the boy, pick hi
m up.” But being busy with household chores my wife will not hear. Whereupon 1 shall rise straight away and give her a good kick on her behind.’

  One night sunk as he was in a deep reverie. Misery let fly a good strong kick upwards and caught the jar, smashing it. All the flour spilled out and fell on poor Misery turning him white all over.

  ‘Therefore, my friend, I say to you: “Whoever indulges in day-dreams…” and the rest of it,’ concluded Wheelbearer.

  Goldfinder responded with, ‘O, yes, how true, my friend,’ and matched it with another tale:

  (54) ‘Whoever acts possessed by greed,

  and does a deed,

  with no thought of its consequence,

  like King Moon will be rewarded with vexations.’

  ‘O, really, how was that?’ asked Wheelbearer. And then Goldfinder began the tale of The Ape’s revenge.

  In a certain city there once ruled a king named Moon.27 He had acquired a troop of monkeys as pets for his son’s amusement. Fed daily with fine foods and various kinds of delicacies, the monkeys were in great shape, sleek and frisky. A herd of rams was also kept in the palace for the amusement of the prince. One of the rams, a real gourmand, was in the habit of entering the kitchens day and night and eating up everything in sight; and the cooks would hit him with a stick or anything else they could lay their hands on to drive him away.

  The Chief of Monkeys who had been observing this for a while began to give it serious thought. ‘Well, this is not good; this perpetual bickering of the cooks and the ram is bound to lead to the destruction of us monkeys. For, this ram is obsessed with eating and cooks are irritable fellows. Supposing at some time or the other the cooks, not finding anything handy, reach out for a burning piece of wood to drive the ram away and hurl it at him, the broad, woolly back of this ram might quite easily catch fire. And then if this creature on fire rushes headlong into the stables nearby, the stables will also catch fire because they are stocked with bundles of hay. The horses are certain to suffer burns. Now, as we know, the sage who has written the standard treatise on veterinary science prescribes monkey-fat as the specific to treat burns suffered by horses That means certain death for us.’

  Having thought this matter over carefully, the monkey-chief summoned his troop and explained the situation to them. ‘Listen friends:

  (55) This quarrel of cooks with the ram,

  lately risen and waxing strong,

  promises to become a serious threat

  to us monkeys; no doubt about that.

  (56) So, if senseless fights should arise

  in a house each and every day,

  people who wish to stay alive,

  should decide to move far away.

  ‘Moreover:

  (57) Bad blood ends all great houses;

  bad words end all friendships;

  bad government is the end of a country;

  and bad deeds of manly glory.

  ‘Therefore, let us leave the palace and resort to the woods before we are all destroyed.’

  But the monkeys intoxicated with their life of ease, listening to his words, ridiculed him saying, ‘Hey, Grandpa, you are old and your intellect is losing its edge. We are definitely not foregoing the ambrosial delicacies the prince feeds us with his own hands, to live in the woods, eating wild fruit, sharp and bitter, acrid and rotting.’

  Hearing their foolish words the monkey-chief gave them a dirty look and exclaimed; ‘O, you pack of worthless fools! Little do you know how this comfortable existence is going to end. This is happiness for the moment, all sweetness at present that in the end will turn to poison. As I simply cannot bear to witness the destruction of my whole clan, I shall leave right this moment and set out for the woods. Mark the wisdom in these lines:

  (58) Blessed are they, dear boy, who do not see

  family decay, and country in ruin,

  a friend in trouble, and a wife stolen.’

  Having warned them, the chief abandoned his troop of monkeys and set out for the woods.

  After his departure from the palace it happened that one day the greedy ram entered the kitchen as usual to eat. The cook was enraged, and not finding anything else at hand, picked up a half-burnt but still blazing piece of wood and struck the ram with it.

  Bleating piteously the ram with his woolly coat on fire rushed out and into the stables close by. As he lay rolling on the ground, the bundles of hay stacked there caught fire and burst into flames. Blinded by the blaze, some of the horses tethered in the stables died, while others with bodies badly burned and whining in agony, broke their halters and stampeded, making the attendants run around in consternation. The king became deeply dejected seeing the state of affairs and had the veterinary physicians and surgeons summoned; he addressed them vehemently, ‘For god’s sake, prescribe something to ease the pain of my horses that have suffered deadly burns.’

  The veterinarians recollected the texts they had studied and delivered their expert advice: ‘Lord, the celebrated author, Śālihotra, has clearly stated the specific treatment for such an emergency; he says:

  (59) The pain of horses from bums

  will soon be gone

  like darkness at dawn,

  with salve of monkey-fat.

  ‘So, my lord, let this treatment be administered immediately, before the horses perish from infection.’

  Following their recommendations, the king ordered an immediate slaughter of monkeys. Why describe the events at great length? Suffice it to record that every one of the troop of monkeys was slaughtered. The chief did not see the outrage perpetrated on his troop with his own eyes. But as the news of the event spread by word of mouth, it came to his ears and he could not bear the pain it brought. As the saying goes:

  (60) Vilest of the vile is that man

  who bears patiently through greed or fear,

  the outrage perpetrated on his clan

  by outsiders; so we hear.

  As this elderly monkey-chief wandered about tormented by thirst, he came to a lake radiant with lotus-clusters. He looked carefully at the lake and noticed footprints leading into the lake, but not out, which started him thinking: ‘Haw odd; there must be some monstrous aquatic reptile living in these waters. I think I had better stay at a safe distance; I can easily drink water through the hollow stem of a lotus.’

  As he was thus engaged, quenching his thirst, there emerged from the middle of the lake, an ogre wearing a fabulous necklace of rubies who declared; ‘Hear, O Ape, I eat whoever enters these waters. There is no one shrewder than you, I must say, sir, who drinks water in this manner. For this reason, I am pleased with you. You may now ask for what your heart desires.’

  ‘O, sir,’ replied the monkey-chief, ‘tell me, sir, how many persons can you eat?’

  ‘O, I?’ guffawed the ogre, ‘Why, I can eat any number; hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands and lakhs of beings if they enter the waters. But, once I come out, even a jackal can overpower me.’

  The monkey observed, ‘Sir, I asked because I entertain a bitter enmity towards a certain king; an enmity which has gone into my very bones. Now, if you will only loan me your necklace I shall rouse the cupidity of this king by my artful words and persuade him to enter your lake with his whole retinue.’

  The ogre thought that this was an excellent idea and handed over his ruby necklace to the monkey-chief who began roaming over treetops and palace roofs with the ruby necklace beautifully adorning his throat. The people noticing him asked, ‘Hey there, monkey-chief, where have you been all this time? And where did you get such a splendid ruby necklace? That dims even the sunlight with its dazzling lustre?’

  To these questions, the monkey-chief replied, ‘Deep in the woods in a certain spot lies a well-hidden lake formed by the God of Wealth.28 Anyone who dives into the middle of that lake at daybreak comes out with a necklace like this radiantly adorning his throat, a sign of the favour of the God of Wealth.’ The news of the necklace spread like wildfire and came to the ears of King M
oon who sent for the monkey-chief and questioned him: ‘Well, sir, Chief of the Troop, is this true what I hear?’

  ‘My lord,’ answered the chief, ‘you see the proof right here before your eyes; the ruby necklace encircles my throat. If you fancy one like this for yourself, all you have to do is to send someone with me and I shall show him the place where he can find it.’

  ‘In that case, I shall myself accompany you with all my retinue, so that many such ruby necklaces might be obtained,’ observed the king.

  ‘A splendid idea, indeed, my lord,’ remarked the monkey-chief.

  King Moon then set out of his capital surrounded by his retinue, driven by greed to possess ruby necklaces. He travelled in a palanquin with the monkey-chief seated on his lap to whom he showed great honour as they went along. As the proverb expresses it well:

  (61) Greed alone befuddles the minds

  of even the learned and the rich;

  it drives them to do horrendous deeds

  and roam in strange, impassable regions.

  Consider this besides:

  (62) One with a hundred longs for a thousand;

  one with a thousand yearns for lakhs;

  and lords of lakhs for rulership of a kingdom;

  monarchs aim to gain Paradise29 itself.

  (63) The hair ages along with aging years;

  with aging years the teeth age and decay;

  eyes and ears age with aging years;

  One thing alone, GREED, never ages.

  In the early morning when the king and company reached the lake, the monkey said to the king, ‘Lord, fulfilment comes to those who dive into the lake at the moment the sun is just over the horizon. So, instruct your retinue to plunge all together at that instant into the waters; you and I will enter the lake together afterwards and go to the spot that I have already been at and I will show you the profusion of ruby necklaces lying around.’

  No sooner had the attendants of the king entered the waters of the lake than the ogre ate them all up. Seeing that his people were delaying inordinately the king turned to the monkey and asked, ‘Well, Chief, Lord of the Troop! Why do my attendants linger?’