Part 16

Thereupon the rogue said with a smile, “O foolish woman, are you not ashamed to say in the presence of your friends or any other decorous person that this man is your husband? Have you not on this stately earth seen men of divine beauty?”

“Such men are no more to be found.”

“Take me as your husband, and we will live together. Should the old Brahman put in a claim for you, then say to the great assembly, ‘This man is my husband.’”

After the rogue had said this she went off with him. When the Brahman came back, he could not see his wife. He climbed a height, and saw her walking off with another man. He ran after her, and seized one of her hands, the rogue holding on to the other. The Brahman said, “Why are you taking away my wife?”

“She is my wife; do not trouble yourself about her,” replied the rogue.

As the Brahman persisted in saying that she was his wife, a quarrel arose between the two men on the highway, and they pulled the woman this way and that way. But as the rogue was younger and stronger than the Brahman, he dragged her away from him. Being overcome, the Brahman called out in that lonely place for help. At that time Mahaushadha and the other children were at play in the forest, and they heard his cries for help. The children said to Mahaushadha, “As you wish to be called the king, and that Brahman is shouting for help, why do not you save him from danger?” So he bade the children bring the parties before him, and he asked them what had occurred. The Brahman said that the other man had forcibly torn away his wife from him, the weaker of the two. On the other hand, the rogue declared that the Brahman lied, and that the woman was his own wife. The woman herself affirmed that the rogue was her husband. Mahaushadha, who perceived that the Brahman had not become excited without due cause, determined to apply a test. [105]

“Say, O man, where do you come from along with your wife?”

“From my father-in-law’s,” replied the rogue.

“What did you eat and drink there?”

“We had meat, cakes, sorrel, and wine,” replied the rogue.

“Vomit then, if that be so,” said Mahaushadha; “we shall see then if that be true or not.”

The rogue put his finger down his throat and vomited, but no such food came to light. Then Mahaushadha asked the Brahman whence he had come.

“From my father-in-law’s,” replied the Brahman.

“What did you eat there?”

“Curdled milk, porridge, and radishes.”

Him likewise Mahaushadha ordered to bring up what he had eaten, and the result was that he produced the food in question. As Mahaushadha now perceived that the rogue had deluded and carried off the Brahman’s wife, he gave orders that he should be chastised by blows from sticks and fists, and that he should then be set fast up to the neck in a hole a man’s stature in depth, and that there should be written on his forehead with peacock’s gall these words—

“He who thus steals a wife, him does Mahaushadha punish in this wise. He who, like unto the wife-stealer, has stolen a child, an ox, a coverlet, yarn, or the like, such thieves as this shall be arrested up to the number of five hundred, and shall be chastised by blows from sticks and fists, and shall be set up to their necks in a pit, and their names shall be written on their foreheads with peacock’s gall, indicating that Mahaushadha will thus punish others also who shall commit thefts.”

Now, when the six ministers had exhausted the land, and the king became aware of the fact, the idea came into his mind of finding out of what nature Mahaushadha really was. He told the ministers that he was going to the chase, and he went with a great following to the hill-villages. When the five hundred rogues who had been set in the pit saw the king, most of them cried out, “O king!” The king heard the cry, and looked around on all sides, but he saw no man, though the cry again resounded. One of the rogues perceived this, and repeated it. The king caught sight of him, and read on his forehead the words written with peacock’s gall: “Whoever has stolen a wife, a child, an ox, a coverlet, and so forth, him does Mahaushadha punish in this wise.” When Mahaushadha and the other children heard that the king had seen these things, his heart rejoiced within him, and he thought that although Mahaushadha was a child, yet in regard to such deeds he had done no wrong. However, he ordered the rogues to be drawn out of the pit, and set them at liberty.

When Pūrṇa heard that the king had come to Pūrṇakatshtshha, he went to meet him, bearing a jar full of water, a canopy, banners, and standards. The king said to him, “Pūrṇa, be not afraid. Bring hither your son that I may see him.” Pūrṇa replied, “O king, as the boy is still very young, I will not bring him before the face of the king.” However the king ordered the father to fetch his boy. Then the king gazed upon the exceedingly handsome and spirited boy; but as he was still a child, and had not come to man’s estate, the king let him go back to his father’s house.

Some time later King Janaka wished to test the nature of Mahaushadha’s intelligence. So he sent a messenger to Pūrṇa, the head-man of the hill-village Pūrṇakatshtshha, with an order to send a rope made of sand one hundred ells long. When the messenger had arrived and communicated the order, Pūrṇa was greatly alarmed. From his birth upwards he had never seen or heard of such a thing, and he would therefore have to expect a reprimand. He became so depressed that Mahaushadha asked him why he was so ill at ease. The father replied that he was not sure that the king did not mean to punish him, the demand being of such an unheard of kind. Mahaushadha asked him to send for the messenger, saying that he would reply to the king. Thereupon he said to the messenger, “Make known to the king this my request, without forgetting it. As the people of our country are slow-witted, unintelligent, and stupid, may it please the king to send an ell of that kind of rope as a pattern, like unto which we will twine a hundred, nay, a thousand ells, and will send them to him.” When the messenger had reported this to the king, the king asked whether it was Pūrṇa or his son who had given this answer. The messenger said that it was Mahaushadha. The king was astonished, and perceived that the commands of the deity were being executed, and that Mahaushadha would re-establish his power.

As the king wished to put Mahaushadha a second time to the test, he sent to Pūrṇa, and ordered him to supply some rice which had not been crushed with a pestle, and yet was not uncrushed, and which had been cooked neither in the house nor out of the house, neither with fire nor yet without fire; sending it neither along the road nor yet away from the road, without its being shone upon by the daylight, but yet not in the shade, not together with a woman, but also not with a man, by one not riding, but also not on foot. The messenger came to Pūrṇakatshtshha, sent for Pūrṇa, and, after holding merry converse with him on various subjects, informed him of the king’s orders. Pūrṇa was greatly discomfited. But Mahaushadha, having found out the cause of his dejection, comforted him, declaring that he would manage the whole affair himself.

Having dried some rice in the sun, he sent for a number of women, and made a man give each of them a handful of grains. These they shelled with their nails, picking out the kernel of each grain without breaking it. When the women had done this, he threw the rice into a pot, and cooked it on the threshold of the house. As he was to cook it without fire and yet not without fire, he cooked it in the sun. In order that it might be conveyed neither along the road nor yet away from the road, he ordered the man who carried it to walk with one foot on the road and the other foot by the side of the road. As it was to be brought neither in the sunlight nor in the shade, he bade the man fasten the pot which held it to the end of a stick, and cover it over with a thin cloth. As the bearer was neither to ride nor to go afoot, he told him to put a shoe on one of his feet and leave the other unshod. And as the bearer was to be neither a man nor a woman, he sent a hermaphrodite.

When the messenger presented himself before the king, and, on being questioned by King Janaka, gave him a full account of the whole matter, the king was greatly pleased, and asked if he had been sent by Pūrṇa or by Mahaushadha. The messenger replied that he had been sent by the latter, whereupon the king said, “Mahaushadha is clever, resolute, sharp-witted, and ingenious.”

Some time afterwards the king sent to Pūrṇa, and ordered him to supply a park with kitchen-gardens, fruit-trees, and tanks. When the messenger came to Pūrṇa and told him what were the king’s orders, Pūrṇa again fell into very low spirits. Mahaushadha begged his father not to distress himself, promising to arrange everything to the king’s satisfaction. Then he sent for the messenger, and told him to give the following reply to the king:—

“As no one among the mountains knows anything about a park of that kind, and therefore no one can construct one, may it please the king to send hither one of the parks belonging to his palace. When my father has seen it, and learnt of what nature it is, he will send one like unto it.”

When the messenger returned with this reply, the king was highly pleased, and when he learnt that it was again Mahaushadha who had sent it, he perceived that he was very intelligent.

Some time later the king again sent a messenger to Pūrṇa, ordering him to plant a tree, and to send it to him at the end of a year, bearing blossoms and fruits. When the messenger had executed his commission, Pūrṇa again became dejected, but Mahaushadha comforted him, saying that the matter would not be a difficult one to manage. And he sent a Ricinus shrub, which at the end of a year bore blossoms and fruits. When the king saw it, he asked whether the idea was Pūrṇa’s or Mahaushadha’s. The messenger named the latter, and the king found nothing more to say in the matter.

Some time later the king sent five hundred oxen to Pūrṇa. These he was to feed and to milk, and he was to send to the king milk, curdled milk, butter, cream, and cheese. When the messenger came to Pūrṇa with these orders, Pūrṇa was greatly troubled, and said to the villagers, “Surely in this matter the king wishes to punish me, seeing that he requires me to milk oxen.” When Mahaushadha perceived his distress, he comforted him, saying that he would contrive a reply with which the king would be pleased without this thing being accomplished. Then Mahaushadha gave full directions to a father and son, ordering them to betake themselves to the capital, near the king’s palace. He told the father to wrap up a wooden bowl in a cloth and fasten it over his belly, and then to roll to and fro on the ground and pretend to be crying. And he told the son to utter fervent prayers, to scatter flowers, food, and incense towards the ten parts of the world, and to cry aloud, “May this, my father, propitiously bring forth his child!”

When the father and son, in accordance with these instructions, had drawn nigh unto King Janaka, they did all that they had been told to do. When the king heard the words, “May he who in the world protects the world preserve my father, and let him propitiously give birth to his child!” he sent some of his men to find out what that meant. They came, and saw a big-bellied man rolling to and fro on the ground and crying, and his son invoking Yama, Vaiśravaṇa, Vasu, and the other kings of the gods. The men reported this to the king, and he sent for the father and son. The son begged that his father might be allowed to bring forth his child. Thereat the king laughed, and said that he had never seen or heard of a man who gave birth to a child.

Then said the youth, “Are things as you say they are?”

“Yes!”

“In that case, I ask you wherefore you sent five hundred oxen to Pūrṇakatshtshha, with orders that milk, sour milk, curdled milk, and fresh butter should be obtained from them. Have you ever seen or heard of oxen big with young and producing calves?”

Then the king laughed, and asked who was the originator of this idea, Pūrṇa or Mahaushadha, or someone else. When the messenger stated that it was Mahaushadha, the king and his ministers were greatly astonished.

Some time later, the king, in order to apply another test, sent a messenger to Pūrṇakatshtshha with a mule, and ordered Pūrṇa to keep watch over it without tying it up, and to feed it without placing it under a roof. The messenger brought the mule to Pūrṇa, and warned him that he would forfeit his life and limbs in case the mule escaped. When Pūrṇa heard that, he was terrified and fell into very low spirits, as he did not think he was equal to the task. But Mahaushadha bade him be of good cheer. By day the mule was to be allowed to graze at its will, but at night it was to be guarded by twenty men, five of whom were to look after it during each of the night-watches, one of them sitting on its back, the others holding a leg apiece. After this fashion the twenty men watched it without taking it under a roof.

After a time King Janaka sent a messenger to see how Pūrṇa was treating the mule. He reported to the king the precautions which had been taken. The king perceived that the mule could not escape while it was guarded in that way, so he said that he wished one of the men to be sent for. The minister asked which man was to be summoned. The king said that they were to send for the man who was sitting on the mule’s back. For while the others were asleep he could ride off with the mule. So the king had the watcher sent for who sat on the mule, and the man came away together with the beast.

When Pūrṇa was told next morning that the mule had gone off, he saw that his life was forfeited, and he took to wailing from fear. When Mahaushadha saw how miserable Pūrṇa was, he began to reflect that hitherto he had found a means of escape on each occasion, but that this time there was none. Of this, however, he said nothing. Although he was much alarmed, yet he devised a plan, and said to his father, “There is still one expedient left for settling this business.” His father asked what it was, and Mahaushadha replied that he could manage the affair provided Pūrṇa could endure being jeered at. Pūrṇa declared that he was ready to do anything which would prevent his life being taken. Thereupon Mahaushadha cut the hair of his father’s head so as to form seven strips, and he daubed the head itself with red, black, brown, white, and other paints. Then he and his father mounted an ass and betook themselves to the capital.

When they arrived there, the news spread abroad that Mahaushadha had come riding upon an ass, and that he had cut his father’s hair into seven strips. When the king and the ministers heard this, they asked, “Why has he, who has the reputation of being so discreet and intelligent, performed so unbecoming an action?” The king and the ministers went out to see if Mahaushadha had really come in the manner alleged, or if the report was false. When the king and his followers saw that it was really so with him, the ministers said, “Wherefore is Mahaushadha praised for his judgment, intelligence, and wisdom? In spite of all that, how unbecomingly he has acted!”

The king asked Mahaushadha why he had thus dishonoured his father. He replied, “I have not dishonoured him, but have honoured him. As I stand much higher than my father on account of my great knowledge, I have shown him honour.”

The king asked, “Are you the better of the two, or is your father the better?”

He replied, “I am the better, my father is the worse.”

The king said, “Never have I seen or heard that the son is better than the father. As it is the father through whom the son becomes known, while the mother feeds him, takes care of him, and brings him up, therefore we hold that the father is altogether the better of the two.”

Then said Mahaushadha to the king, “Test the matter thoroughly to see if the father is really so or not.”

As the king and the ministers affirmed that it was so, and not otherwise, Mahaushadha fell at the king’s feet and said, “O king, this being the case, as the mule which you sent us to watch over has run away, but as according to the testimony of the king and the ministers the father is considered better than the offspring, and the father of the mule is the ass, accept this ass as a set-off.”

When the king and the ministers had heard his speech, and perceived the cunning contrivance which it carried out, they were astonished. Whether he had acted becomingly or unbecomingly, it was clear that he was clever. Having thought the matter over, the king was much pleased, and he arrayed Mahaushadha in fine robes of various kinds, and bestowed upon him the power of a minister, and on the father he conferred that village.

After Mahaushadha had been appointed a minister, his fame spread abroad throughout the whole city as that of a wise and intelligent man.

Now a very learned Brahman had gone abroad in order to increase his property, after he and his wife had spent all that she had brought along with her; and he returned home with five hundred gold pieces of ancient date. Before entering his house he was desirous of disposing of his money, for none could tell whether his wife might not have taken up with another man during his absence. His wife was of remarkable beauty, and therefore he considered that she might have found favour in the eyes of other men during his absence. So in the evening twilight he went to the cemetery, dug a hole under a Nyagrodha tree, put the money into it, and then went to his home.

Now the wife had a lover, the Brahman Mahākarṇa (Great Ear). The pair had about that time partaken of delicate food, and she had anointed herself with fragrant ointment, and was reposing upon the couch of enjoyment. Just then came the Brahman and called to her to open the door. The woman asked who was there. When he had pronounced his name, she uttered a joyful cry, aroused Mahākarṇa, and hid him under the bed, and then went to open the door. With thorough dissimulation she wept and flung her arms round her husband’s neck, showed him honour and respect, and placed savoury food before him. After partaking of it, he came to the conclusion that the reason of her having provided such a supper must certainly be that she had given herself up to another man. As he was of an ingenuous nature, he asked her, “O good wife, how comes it that you have such food, seeing that this is not a holiday, a festival, or day of public rejoicing?” She replied, “A deity made me aware that you were coming to-day, so I provided this meal on your account.” The Brahman said, “Then it is not I alone who am fortunate. My wife also, it seems, receives tidings from the deity in dreams.”

After he had eaten and washed, he lay down upon the bed to rest, and conversed with his wife about her welfare. Presently she asked him if he had brought anything with him. He said that he had. Thereupon the wife intimated by signs, “Mahākarṇa, let thine ear listen to what is being said.” Then she said, “Where have you put the five hundred gold pieces, as you have not shown them to me?” He replied, “I will show them to you to-morrow.” Then said the wife, “Why have you kept the matter from me, though I am the half of your body?” The honest Brahman said, “I have hidden the money outside the city.” The wife said, “Hear, O Great Ear, where the money has been put.” The Brahman said that he had hidden the money under a Nyagrodha tree in the cemetery. Then said the Brahman’s wife, “As you, my lord, are fatigued and exhausted by the journey and on my account, now go to sleep.”

When she saw that he had gone to sleep, she bade Mahākarṇa act in accordance with what he had heard. Mahākarṇa slipped quietly out of the house, went to the cemetery, dug up the money, and then betook himself to his own house.

When the Brahman went to the cemetery the next day, and found that his money was no longer there, he beat himself on the head and breast, and returned home. His wife, his friends, his brothers, and his relatives asked him what had happened, and he told them everything. They advised him to have recourse to Mahaushadha. Then the Brahman went wailing to Mahaushadha, his face streaming with tears, and told him his misfortune. Mahaushadha remained silent for a moment. Then he asked, “Brahman, at what spot and at what time did you hide the money? Did any one see it? or have you talked about it to any one?” The Brahman gave a full account of the whole affair. Mahaushadha came to the conclusion that the Brahman’s wife had some other man as a lover, and that what had taken place was due to that man’s contrivance. But he spoke words of comfort to the Brahman, saying that if the money was not found he would pay it to him out of his own purse. Then he asked him if there was a dog in his house. The Brahman replied that there was. Then said Mahaushadha, “Go and invite eight Brahmans to your house. Invite four of them yourself, and let your wife invite the other four. Tell her that you have made a vow to the god Śiva that if you should accomplish your return prosperously you would entertain eight Brahmans.”

The Brahman followed these instructions, and when the Brahmans had been invited, he went to Mahaushadha in order to acquaint him with the fact. Then said Mahaushadha, “When you are about to receive the Brahmans into your house, call this man of mine, and station him at the door when they enter. And during the meal let him stand inside without being occupied in any way.” And to his man he said, “Take note of everything significant. When the Brahmans come in, see which of them the dog barks at, and before whom it wags its tail; for such is the nature of dogs.” Moreover, he ordered the Brahman not to set the food before his guests with his own hands, but to leave that to his wife. He told his man also to pay heed to the Brahman’s wife while she was serving the food, and see to whom she made a sign, at whom she gazed without changing countenance, whom she addressed with a smile, and to whom she served the best fare, and to make him acquainted with all this.

These instructions having been given, the Brahman took the servant home with him and stationed him at the door. Then he told his wife to summon the guests whom she had invited, while he summoned those whom he had invited. As the other guests entered the house one after another, the dog barked. But when Mahākarṇa came in, the dog looked at him, drooped its ears, wagged its tail, and followed after him. When he had entered in and called the dog, the servant learnt that he was Mahākarṇa. Afterwards the servant saw the food distributed, and remarked that the Brahman’s wife, while taking part in the distribution, made a sign with her eyebrows to Mahākarṇa, smiled slightly, fixed her eyes upon him, and supplied him with the best of the food. All that he saw he afterwards reported to Mahaushadha.