The Hitopadesa (Penguin Classics) Read online

  If even slightly revealed.

  ‘What is more,

  (144) If taking, giving, as is due,

  Or other work which should be done,

  Is not attended swiftly to

  In time, its essence then is gone.

  ‘As such it is essential that every effort should be made to complete without delay whatever has been started. For,

  (145) Though guarded well in every way,

  A regiment feeling insecure

  Will not long in one place stay

  For fear that enemies will procure

  An opening: it is the same

  With consultations in all but name.

  ‘It would be extremely imprudent to try to change his ways by placating him, when he has already committed treason. For,

  (146) One who seeks to reinstate

  A friend who has him once betrayed—

  Sure disaster is his fate:

  It’s like a she-mule pregnant8 made.’

  (147) ‘Not knowing the proper state

  Of how the big and small relate,

  How can one take a view

  On what a person cannot do?

  Look, how the ocean was deterred

  By the lapwing, such a little bird.’

  ‘How did that happen?’ the lion asked. Bossy narrated

  The Lapwing and the Ocean

  A lapwing couple lived on the shore of the southern ocean. When it was time for the mother bird to lay her eggs, she told her mate, ‘Lord, please look for a secluded place suitable for my labour.’

  ‘Wife,’ said the lapwing, ‘surely this place itself is suitable for your confinement.’

  ‘But this place gets flooded when the tide comes in,’ she replied.

  ‘What!’ cried the lapwing, ‘am I so powerless that the ocean should insult me inside my own house?’

  ‘My lord,’ the mother bird said with a smile, ‘there is a great difference between you and the ocean. Or, rather,

  (148) It is hard oneself to know

  If one is able, or not so.

  If such discrimination there could be,

  One would not suffer misery.

  ‘Besides,

  (149) Starting something unworthy,

  Enmity with your own kin,

  With the powerful, rivalry,

  And giving credence to women:

  It is said that all these four

  To self-destruction are the door.’

  Nevertheless she was persuaded, though with some difficulty, by her husband’s words and went into labour there itself. Meanwhile the ocean had overheard all their conversation. In order to test how strong they were, it carried away all their eggs.

  The mother bird was besides herself with grief. ‘Lord,’ she cried to her mate, ‘it is a disaster! My eggs are gone!’

  ‘Do not be afraid, my dear,’ said the lapwing. He held a meeting with the other birds and then went to Garuḍa, who is the lord of all the denizens of the air. There he recounted the entire episode and appealed to the celestial eagle, ‘Sire, I have been humiliated by the ocean inside my own house though I had done nothing wrong.’

  After hearing the lapwing’s petition, the divine Garuda submitted it to his master, the god Nārāyana, who is the creator, the preserver and the destroyer of this universe. The god ordered the ocean to return the eggs and, in reverent compliance with the divine commandment, it handed them over to the lapwing.

  ‘That is why I talked about knowing the relationship between the small and the great,’ concluded Bossy.

  ‘How can it be ascertained if Lively has treason on his mind?’ asked the king.

  ‘When he comes arrogantly, his horns ready to lunge as if in confusion, it is then that Your Majesty will know.’ Saying this, Bossy got up and went to Lively. Approaching him slowly, he pretended to be in a state of uncertainty.

  ‘Good sir,’ Lively asked politely, ‘is all well with you?’ ‘How can all be well with servants?’ said Bossy. ‘For,

  (150) State servants are so insecure,

  Their goods the king can always seize.

  Of their lives they can’t be sure:

  Their minds can never be at ease.

  ‘Further,

  (151) Who, on attaining affluence,

  Does not succumb to arrogance?

  When given up to pleasures, who

  Can to trouble bid adieu?

  Who has never jilted been

  By women on this earthly scene?

  Who escapes death’s fearful sting?

  And who’s the favourite of the king?

  Which beggar ever gets respect?

  Which man is there who can expect,

  When fallen in a villain’s snare,

  To come out safe, without a care?’

  ‘Tell me comrade,’ asked Lively, ‘what is the matter?’ ‘What can I say,’ Bossy replied, ‘it’s my misfortune. Look,

  (152) What now to do, I do not know—

  Just like the man who can’t let go

  Or hold on to the deadly snake

  He grabs, when drowning in a lake.

  ‘For,

  (153) Here the royal trust will end,

  There perishes a trusting friend.

  I’m plunged into a sea of woe.

  What can I do? Where can I go?’

  Saying this, Bossy sighed deeply and sat down. ‘Even so, friend,’ Lively persisted, ‘do tell me clearly what is in your heart.’

  Bossy said with a furtive air, ‘Even though what the king says in confidence is not to be spoken about, you came here trusting in me and I do not want to spoil the chance of my going to heaven. So I must tell you what is in your interest. Listen. This king has turned against you. He has said privately that he is going to kill you to please his family.’

  Lively was deeply distressed. ‘stop looking so dejected,’ Bossy continued, ‘you must act while there is still time.’ Lively thought for a while, and observed, ‘It is indeed well said.

  (154) In most cases it is so:

  Women will to villains go;

  Kings prefer to patronize

  Those who least deserve to rise;

  Wealth waits upon the miserly;

  And on mountains, or the sea,

  Do the heavens shower rain

  (Rather than on fertile plain.)

  ‘Is it this jackal’s doing,’ he wondered, ‘or is it not? It is not possible to discern this from his behaviour. For,

  (155) From his master’s majesty

  A villain, too, draws dignity.

  The lustre of a damsel’s eyes

  Her dark mascara glorifies.

  ‘What a mess this is. For,

  (156) One tries to propitiate a king;

  If he’s not pleased, it’s no strange thing.

  But this was never known to be:

  Well served, he turns an enemy.’

  ‘It is impossible to fathom this. For,

  (157) Someone who has indicated

  For his anger specific cause,

  Can for certain be placated

  By correcting what it was.

  But one who harbours in his mind

  Some groundless animosities:

  How can any person find

  A way for such a one to please?

  ‘How have I harmed the king?’ he then asked. ‘Or, is it that kings can turn hostile for no reason at all?’

  ‘It is indeed like that,’ said Bossy. ‘Listen.

  (158) Even though a helpful turn

  Is by wise well-wishers done,

  It can hostility earn,

  While others may have favour won

  Though doing actual injury.

  For royal minds are hard to know—

  They are not prone to constancy.

  Even yogis think it so—

  A servant it is hard to be.

  ‘Further,

  (159) A hundred favours to them done,

  For the wicked, are as none.

  A hundred vers
es will go waste

  On those without artistic taste.

  A hundred times though one may plead,

  It’s lost on those who pay no heed.

  And good advice, a hundredfold.

  On the mindless has no hold.

  ‘What is more.

  (160) Fragrant is the sandal tree,

  But on it snakes are also found.

  In water there may lilies be,

  But also crocodiles abound.

  And in pleasure there always are

  Villains who its merits mar.

  One cannot have felicity

  Entirely of problems free.

  ‘Further,

  (161) In its roots are serpents found,

  On its flowers bees abound,

  On branches monkeys shelter take,

  A home above the wild bears make.

  There’s nothing of a sandal tree,

  Sweetly fragrant though it be,

  On which there does not always feature

  Some wicked or some violent creature.

  ‘As for this master of ours, I know that he talks sweetly, but he has a poisonous heart. For,

  (162) Wherefrom have the wicked learnt

  Such drama, never seen before—

  The hand, in greeting, upward turned,

  The eyes which well with teardrops pure.

  On his own seat he offers place,

  And displays every consideration.

  He’s ready with a close embrace

  And much pleasing conversation.

  But he is a master of deceit:

  Poison hidden in a sweet.

  ‘Similarly,

  (163) A ship, to cross the fearful seas,

  A lamp, the darkness to dispel,

  A fan, for when there is no breeze,

  A goad, to guide the elephant well—

  Thus there is nothing in creation

  For which a cure has not been thought,

  Except the villainous inclination,

  Cure which even God cannot.’

  Lively sighed again. ‘What a mess!’ he cried. ‘Why should I, a mere herbivore, deserve execution by the lion? For,

  (164) A dispute one can understand

  Between those whose riches and

  Whose power is of equal station.

  But between the very great

  And those who are of lowest state,

  It is beyond all explanation.

  ‘I do not know who could have turned this king against me,’ Lively thought again. ‘But a king who has become unfriendly is something always to be feared. For,

  (165) The monarch’s thinking, if it may

  From the minister turn away,

  Who can ever bring it back?

  It’s like a crystal with a crack.

  ‘Further,

  (166) The lightning and the monarch’s ire,

  Terror do they both inspire.

  The first, though, strikes at just one place,

  The latter, from all sides you face.

  ‘So, one should fight, even till death. For now it is no longer worthwhile to obey his orders. For,

  (167) Slain, one will to heaven go,

  Or happy be by slaying the foe.

  Either goal is hard to gain,

  But one, the valiant can attain.

  ‘And this is the time for engaging in battle,

  (168) When fighting one alive may stay,

  But not to fight will make death sure,

  Then, as all the sages say,

  It is indeed the time for war.

  ‘For,

  (169) When, without recourse to war,

  No benefit does the wise man see,

  He goes to battle, ready for

  Death besides the enemy.

  (170) Wealth one has in victory,

  In death the joys of paradise.

  This body is but transitory—

  Why fret if it in battle dies?’

  Having reflected over all this, Lively said, ‘O friend, how will I know that the lion is intent on killing me?’

  Bossy replied. ‘When he glares at you with his tail erect, his paws upraised, and his jaws wide open, then you too should display your mettle. For,

  (171) Even the strong, when lacking spirit,

  Are thought no better than the dead.

  Look at that ash heap, no spark in it—

  How fearlessly men on it tread.

  ‘But all this must be kept very secret. Otherwise both you and I will be finished.’ And, with these words, Bossy returned to Rusty.

  ‘Well?’ asked Rusty. ‘Is it done?’

  ‘It is done,’ Bossy replied, ‘a split between the two of them has been accomplished.’

  ‘Was there any doubt!’ Rusty cried, ‘for,

  (172) For villains, who is ever a friend?

  Who has no skills in mischief got?

  Whose joy in wealth can ever end?

  And, importuned, who angers not?

  ‘Further,

  (173) The wicked, for their personal gain,

  Will lead the virtuous into vice.

  Their company is a real bane,

  It harms, like fire, in a trice.’

  Then Bossy went back to Tawny. ‘Sire, that traitor is here! Get ready and be on guard!’ Saying this he got the lion to assume the posture he had earlier described to the bull. Lively had arrived meanwhile, and, seeing the lion in such a terribly transformed state, he too went through his own paces. In the great battle which then ensued between them, Lively was killed by the lion.

  Having slain Lively, the lion stood at rest, looking sad. ‘What a terrible deed have I done!’ he said, ‘For,

  (174) While others enjoy his own estates,

  The king himself has sin incurred,

  When dharma’s limits he violates,

  Like the lion who killed the elephant herd.

  ‘Furthermore,

  (175) As between their losing hold

  Of a part of territory,

  And a servant, wise and old,

  The latter death for kings can be.

  For lost land’s easier to regain

  Than good servants to get again.’

  ‘What is this new logic. Master,’ said Bossy, ‘that you feel so sorry after having eliminated an enemy? As it is said,

  (176) If the king does truly care

  For his interests and welfare,

  Should his own father, or his son,

  His brother, or an intimate friend,

  His life threaten, he for one

  Should quickly put theirs to an end.

  ‘Besides,

  (177) One who the essence comprehends

  Of the triple human ends9

  Should not have excessive pity.

  The too forgiving lose ability

  To safeguard even what they hold

  In their hands, of grain or gold.

  ‘What is more,

  (178) Forgiveness to friend or foe,

  For monks may be an excellence.

  But kings, if it will also show

  To criminals—it then makes no sense.

  ‘Furthermore,

  (179) One who seeks his master’s throne

  For ego’s sake, or greedy grown—

  The only way to make amends

  For him is that his life he ends.

  ‘Further,

  (180) A king too tender on the whole,

  A priest given to gluttony,

  A wife resistant to control,

  An ally prone to villainy,

  An officer with a careless way,

  A servant who will not obey,

  And men who have no gratitude:

  All these need to be eschewed.

  ‘And specially,

  (181) Sometimes false, at others true,

  Harsh, and sweetly-worded too,

  Both kind and cruel the king must be,

  Magnanimous and miserly,

  Given to much lavish spending,

  But
with taxation never ending.

  Like a harlot, kingly ways

  Must many faces wear always.’

  Thus reassured by Bossy, Tawny sat upon his throne with his natural spirits regained. And Bossy, gleefully proclaiming ‘Victory to the great king! May all be well with everyone!’ lived happily as before.

  ‘Y our Highnesses,’ concluded Viṣṇu Śarma, ‘you have now learnt the methods of Splitting of Partners.’ ‘We learnt it by Your Honour’s grace,’ said the princes, ‘we are very pleased.’

  ‘May there be this also,’ said Viṣṇu Śarma:

  (182) ‘May Splitting of Partners only be

  In the camps of your adversary.

  May the wicked go a fatal way,

  And meet destruction every day.

  May joy and all prosperity

  Among the people always be;

  And may children ever play

  In this grove of stories gay.’

  Vigraha

  War

  It was time to resume the discourse. ‘We are princes, Noble Sir,’ said the princes, ‘and we are curious to learn about war.’ ‘will speak on whatever interests Your Highnesses,’ Viṣṇu Śarma replied, ‘listen to Vigraha or War, of which this is the first stanza:

  (1) In the late war which took place

  Between the swan and peacock race,

  Equal prowess both displayed,

  But swans were by the crows betrayed,

  Who won their trust while they did dwell

  Inside the enemy’s citadel.’

  ‘How did that happen?’ asked the princes. Viṣṇu Śarma narrated the following story:

  In the island of Karpūra there is a lake called Padmakeli. By it there lived a swan of the royal breed named Hiraṇyagarbha or Goldegg. All the water birds had got together and anointed him as their king. For,

  (2) If there be no king to lead

  The populace, it sinks indeed

  Like a ship with unmanned helm

  Launched upon the sea-god’s realm.

  Furthermore,

  (3) The king protects the populace,

  They bring to him prosperity.