The Hitopadesa (Penguin Classics) Page 12

  But protecting must have pride of place—

  Without it there would nothing be.

  Once the swan king was sitting at ease on a lotus bed, surrounded by his courtiers, when a crane named Dīrghamukha or Bigmouth arrived from somewhere and took a seat after making his salutations.

  ‘Bigmouth,’ said the king, ‘you have come from foreign lands. Give us all the news.’

  ‘Sire, there is some important news,’ the crane replied, ‘it is to inform you that I have rushed here. Listen. On Jambu island there is a hill called Vindhya. A king of the birds, a peacock by the name of Ćitravarṇa or Dapple, lives there. His servants saw me in the Dagdharaṇya forest while I was passing through. “Who are you?” they asked me, “from where have you come?” I told them that I was a servant of the royal swan Goldegg, the sovereign lord of Karpūra island, and that I had come there out of curiosity to see foreign lands.

  ‘After listening to me those birds asked, “Which is the better one among our two countries and kings?” “What a question!’ said I, ‘there is no comparison. Karpūra island is like heaven itself, and our swan king is a second lord of paradise. What are you all doing stuck in this desert? Come, let us go to my country.”

  ‘On hearing my words they all became angry. As it is said,

  (4) When serpents on good milk are fed,

  It only makes their venom grow.

  Fools, with words of counsel said,

  Are never pleased, but anger show.

  ‘Further,

  (5) Give counsel only to the wise,

  Never to the ignorant.

  The birds to monkeys gave advice,

  And had to leave their tenement.’

  ‘How did that happen?’ asked the king. Bigmouth narrated

  The Birds who tried to help the Monkeys

  There is a giant silk-cotton tree at the foot of a hill by the side of the river Narmadā. Many birds had built nests in it and lived there happily, even when it rained. Once, during the monsoon season, the sky was covered with banks of clouds like dark blue mantles, and it rained incessantly. Some monkeys crowded under the tree, shivering in the cold. The birds were moved by pity on seeing them. They said, ‘Listen, O you monkeys.

  (6) We built nests with bits of straw,

  Which with our beaks alone we brought.

  Why do you such pain endure,

  When hands and feet you all have got?’

  The monkeys were enraged. ‘These birds!’ they said to themselves, ‘sitting comfortably inside their nests protected from the blast, they dare to criticize us? Well, just let it stop raining.’ And once the shower had ceased, they climbed up the tree, destroyed all the nests, and threw down the eggs from inside them.

  ‘That is why I said that counsel should only be given to the wise,’ said the crane. ‘What did they do then?’ the king asked.

  The crane said: ‘Those birds were enraged. “Whoever made that swan a king?” they exclaimed. I too was incensed. “And whoever made your peacock a king?” I retorted. On hearing this they were ready to kill me. I also got ready to fight. For,

  (7) At other times it does behoove

  For menfolk to forbearing be,

  And for maidens so to move

  As befits their modesty.

  Except in combat and in love,

  Brave should one, and bold the other, prove.’

  The king smiled and said,

  (8) ‘One who having analysed

  His own and others’ abilities,

  The difference has not still realized,

  Is scorned by all his enemies.

  ‘Further,

  (9) Within a tiger’s skin concealed,

  A foolish ass for long did graze

  Daily in the farmer’s field

  Till he was killed by his own brays.’

  ‘How did that happen?’ the crane asked. The king narrated

  The Ass Disguised as a Tiger

  In the town of Hastināpura there was a washerman named Vilāsa. His ass had been so worn out by carrying burdens that it seemed to be on the point of death. The washerman covered the ass with a tiger skin and put it out to graze in a field of corn near a forest. The farmers used to see it from a distance and run away quickly, thinking that it was a tiger.

  One of the guards looking after the corn once took up a position in a quiet place. He had protected his body with a grey blanket and crouched low with his bow and arrow held ready. Seeing him from afar, the ass, who had grown stout and strong eating the corn at leisure, concluded that the other animal was a female donkey. It rushed forward, braying loudly. Its screams made it clear to the guard that this was only an ass, and he killed it in a trice.

  ‘That is why I mentioned the ass in the field’ said the swan king. ‘Well, what happened then?’

  ‘Then,’ continued Bigmouth, ‘Those birds exclaimed, “You villain! You wretched crane! You walk about our land, and abuse our master! This cannot be tolerated any more.” And all of them began to peck at me with their beaks, shouting angrily, “You fool! Just look at that swan, your king! He is too mild and not fit to rule at all. For, one who is mild cannot protect even that which he has in the palm of his hand. How can he rule on earth? What does a kingdom mean to him? And you are no better than a frog in a well for preaching shelter with him. Listen,

  (10) For shelter seek a noble tree,

  Shady, and with fruit arrayed.

  If fruit, by chance, there should not be,

  Still, who can take away the shade?

  “Further,

  (11) Even milk if barmaids carry,

  Wine by others ‘twill be thought.

  So with the base one should not tarry—

  Let company of the great be sought.

  “Further,

  (12) Merits, though of great extent,

  Shrink in contact with the mean,

  As with the lordly elephant,

  When in a little mirror seen.

  The image which the glass portrays

  Depends on how big is its base.

  “And specially,

  (13) When a king is truly great,

  On his name will success wait,

  Though mentioned only in pretence;

  As was the happy consequence

  For the rabbits who did use

  The moon god’s title as a ruse.”

  ‘“How did that happen?” I asked. The birds narrated

  The Rabbit and the Elephant

  Once there was no rain, even during the monsoon season. A herd of elephants was beside itself with thirst. ‘Lord,’ the elephants said to the leader of the herd, ‘how are we going to live? Only small animals can use the water here and we, who are unable to do so for lack of space, are almost going blind. Where can we go, and what should we do?’

  The leader of the herd then went some distance and showed the other elephants a lake full of clear water. Little rabbits lived on its banks and, as the days passed, they started getting hurt and crushed under the elephants’ feet.

  A rabbit named Śilīmukha or Dartface began to worry. ‘These thirsty elephants are bound to come here every day. Our entire tribe will then be destroyed.’ But an aged rabbit called Vijaya or Victor declared, ‘Do not be despondent. I will solve this problem.’ And he went away after making this vow.

  ‘How can I stand before a herd of elephants and speak?’ Victor said to himself as he went,

  (14) ‘By touch itself can elephants kill;

  By sniffs alone the serpents will;

  Sovereigns with a smile do slay;

  And villains as they homage pay.

  ‘So I will climb on top of a hill and then address the leader of the herd.’

  After Victor had thus positioned himself, the leader of the herd asked him, ‘Who are you? From where have you come?’

  ‘I am a rabbit,’ said Victor, ‘I have been sent, sir, by the moon god to you.’

  ‘State your business,’ said the herd leader. Victor said,


  (15) ‘The envoy does not speak a lie,

  Though weapons may be raised on high.

  Always deemed inviolate,

  The truth for certain he will state.

  ‘Therefore I will speak as I have been commanded. Listen. This is the lake of the moon, and these rabbits are its guardians. You have acted improperly in displacing them, for they have been under my protection for a long time. It is for that reason that I, the moon, am well known for having the rabbit1 as my emblem.’

  Thus addressed by an envoy, the leader of the elephants said defensively, ‘We acted out of ignorance. We will not come here again.’ The envoy told him, ‘If that is so, then salute the moon god to seek his grace, and go. He is in the lake, trembling with anger.’

  That night the rabbit took the leader of the herd to the lake, showed him the moon’s reflection shimmering in the water, and made him salute it. ‘O god,’ he intoned, ‘they committed this sin out of ignorance. Please forgive them. They will not repeat it again,’ And with these words, the elephants were sent away.

  ‘It is for this reason that I said that success waits upon a king’s name and fame,’ the crane continued. ‘Then I told those birds, “Our lord the swan king is very mighty and exceedingly potent. He could be the master of all the three worlds, what to say of a mere kingdom.” At this the birds again berated me, “Wretch! How dare you come into our territory!” Then they took me to king Dapple.

  ‘They presented me before the king and, after saluting him, said, “Your attention, sire! This wretched crane has been abusing Your Majesty even while wandering about our country.” ’

  ‘“Who is he?” asked the king. “From where has he come?” The birds replied, “He has come from Karpūra island. He is a servant of the royal swan Goldegg.” The minister, a vulture, asked me, “Who is the Prime Minister there?” “The goose Sarvajñya or Knowall,” I replied. “He is an expert in all the sciences.” “That is good,” said the vulture, “he is from the king’s own country. For,

  (16, 17) Hailing from the king’s own land,

  Nobly bred, immaculate, and

  Of tried and proven honesty,

  Good counsellor, of vices free,

  Who won’t from rightness deviate

  Whose ancestors have served the state,

  Adept in matters of dispute,

  Learned, and of high repute;

  Finally, a person who

  Excels in raising revenue—

  To such a one, the sovereign should

  Give, properly, ministerhood.”

  ‘Then a parrot spoke up, “Sire, Karpūra and other minor islands are a part of Jambu island itself. They are also under Your Majesty’s sovereignty.” “That is so,” the king replied, “For,

  (18) What need is there to speak again

  Of things it’s possible to attain,

  When only what they cannot get

  Is the thing that kings covet?

  Of children this is also true,

  And of pretty maidens too,

  As of those whom wealth makes vain,

  Or those who have become insane.”

  ‘To this I responded, “If sovereignty flows from mere words, then the island of Jambu too is in the dominion of our lord Goldegg.” “And how will this be decided?” cried the parrot. “By war alone!” said I. “Then go and get your master ready,” the king observed with a smile.

  ‘I then told the king: “You should also send your ambassador with me.” “Who will go as the ambassador?” the king said, “for, to appoint one,

  (19) An ambassador must always be

  Loyal, marked by purity,

  Of proper merit, skilled, mature,

  With a ready wit and sure,

  Free from vice of any kind,

  Quick to read another’s mind,

  And a cleric2 he should be—

  Such is the ideal emissary.”

  ‘ “There are many who can be ambassadors,’ said the vulture, “but only one of the priestly caste should be appointed. For,

  (20) His master he will always please,

  And never covet his properties.

  His nature, like the inky shade

  Of poison, even Śiva cannot fade.3”

  ‘ “Then let the parrot go,” said the king. “Parrot, go with this bird and speak on my behalf.” “As you command, sire,” the parrot replied, “but this crane is a villain. So I will not go with him. As it is said,

  (21) A criminal act the wicked do,

  Its fruit upon the good redound.

  Rāvana kidnapped Sitā, true—

  But it was Ocean who was bound.

  “Furtheimore,

  (22) With villains one should never go

  Nor stay, as witness with the crow

  The swan who stayed, the quail who went:

  Both met a fatal accident.”

  ‘ “How did that happen?” the king asked. The parrot narrated

  The Swan and the Crow

  ‘There is a giant fig tree by the side of the road to Ujjayinī, on which there lived a swan and a crow. Once in the summer a tired traveller had gone to sleep under the tree, a bow and arrow by his side. After some time the tree’s shade moved away from his face, exposing it to the fierce sunlight. The swan, which sat on the tree, was moved to pity on seeing this, and spread his wings to shade the traveller’s face once more. Sleeping soundly, the traveller yawned with pleasure. But the crow, who was villainous by nature, was unable to tolerate the comfort of others. So he emptied his bowels into the traveller’s open mouth and flew away. When the latter jumped up and looked above, all he could see was the swan, whom he shot with his arrow and killed forthwith.

  “That is why I said that one should never stay with villains. Now I will tell you the story of

  The Crow and the Quail

  Once all the birds proceeded to the sea-shore in connection with a pilgrimage by their lord Garuḍa. On that occasion the quail went with the crow. As they travelled, the crow repeatedly stole and ate curds from the pot which a cowherd was carrying on his head. When the cowherd put down his pot of curds and looked up, he saw both the crow and the quail above. The crow flew swiftly and got away, but the slow-moving quail was caught and killed by the cowherd. That is why I said that one should neither stay nor go with villains.”

  ‘Then,’ continued the crane, ‘I protested, “Brother Parrot, why do you speak like this? For me Your Honour is no less than His Majesty.”

  ‘ “That may be so,” the parrot replied, “but,

  (23) Whatever the wicked say,

  Smiling sweetly be it may,

  For perturbation does give reason,

  Like flowers blooming out of season.

  “As for wickedness, that is quite clear from Your Honour’s own words. They alone are causing this confrontation between our two kings. Look,

  (24) Though harm is done before their eyes,

  Sweet talk the foolish satisfies.

  The chariot-maker did adore

  His own wife bedding a paramour.”

  ‘The king asked, “How did that happen?” The parrot narrated

  The Fool who was Easily Satisfied

  ‘There was a chariot-maker named Mandamati who lived in the city of Yauvanaśrī. He knew that his wife was having an affair, but had never seen her together with her lover with his own eyes. So he went out one day, saying that he was going to another village. But, having gone some distance, he returned home secretly and hid himself under the bed.

  Believing that the chariot-maker had indeed gone to another village, his wife invited her lover to come that very evening. As they were making passionate love on the bed, a sudden movement made her aware that her husband was underneath. This disconcerted her somewhat, whereupon her lover asked, ‘What is the matter? Today your embraces are not as ardent as usual. You seem distracted.’

  ‘You do not understand,’ she said. ‘He, who is the lord of my life, and my comrade since I was a girl, has gone to another village to
day. Without him this place seems to me like a wilderness, even though it is full of so many people. What will happen to him in strange surroundings, what will he eat, and where will he sleep, are questions which stab at my heart.’

  ‘What!’ said the lover, ‘is your chariot-maker so dear to you?’ ‘You barbarian,’ the adulteress retorted, ‘how dare you say this! Listen,

  (25) Even though he harshly speak,

  And glare at her most angrily,

  The virtuous wife will always seek,

  Happy with her lord to be.

  ‘Furthermore,

  (26) The husband may in cities stay,

  Or in forests far away,

  Sinful in his conduct be,

  Or lead a life of purity—

  The wife who loves him even so,

  To paradise is bound to go.

  ‘Further,

  (27) Of all the others they may wear,

  There can be no ornament

  For womankind more excellent

  Than to have the husband near.

  Without him they cannot shine,

  Glittering though with jewellery fine.

  ‘You are a lover, who serves as a diversion once in a while, like a flower or a betel leaf. He is my master, who may sell me or give me away to the gods or even to the brahmins. What more is there to say? I live while he lives, and when he dies I have decided to follow him in death also. For,

  (28) More than thirty million be

  The hair upon this human frame—

  That many years lives blissfully

  In paradise the noble dame

  Who follows still, when he is dead.

  The lord and husband she had wed.

  ‘Further,