The Hitopadesa (Penguin Classics) Page 17
(27) These seven one may categorize
As fit for being made allies:
Those who will be true in trust,
The noble-minded, and the just,
The base, those who their kin unite,
The strong, and those who win a fight.
(28) One who is true will truth protect
And, once allied, will not defect.
The noble one, it’s always seen
Will risk his life but not be mean.
(29) If a just king is attacked
In war, by all he will be backed;
His people’s love, his virtues sweet,
Will make him very hard to beat.
(30) When you must destruction face,
Make peace even with the base.
For without their sanctuary,
The noble ones face jeopardy.
(31) As bamboo thick with thorny shoot
In clusters, one cannot uproot,
So it is with those who stand
With their kin, a close-knit band.
(32) Nowhere says the scriptural lore
That with the mighty one should war.
Never can the rain cloud go
Against the way the wind does blow.
(33) As with Jamadagni’s son,7
The fame of him, who’s often won
In battle, keeps the multitude
Always everywhere subdued.
(34) He who has many battles won,
When he makes his peace with one,
His fame will make one’s enemies
Also quickly sue for peace.
“This king has many virtues,” the vulture concluded. “We should therefore make peace with him.”
The goose continued, ‘Spy, everything has been understood. Go now, and come back with more information.’
The king then asked the goose, ‘Minister, who are the people with whom peace should not be made? I would like to know that also.’
‘I will tell you, sire,’ the minister replied, ‘listen
(35) The child, the dotard, the invalid,
One denounced by his own kin,
A coward, one who’s full of greed,
And one whose servants share this sin;
(36) One whose aides have no devotion,
One given up to luxury,
Whose mind is full of vacillation.
Whose words are full of blasphemy;
(37) One who’s plain unlucky, or
One obsessed by destiny,
One with famine at his door,
Or plagued by problems military;
(38) One lacking time appropriate,
One with many enemies,
In exile, or an apostate:
Twenty types of men are these.
(39) With them do not effect a peace,
And let the fighting continue,
For, by war, these categories
You can always fast subdue.
(40) A child knows not the consequence
Of using or not using might,
Nor has it any influence;
So, for it none wish to fight.
(41) The aged and the invalid
Have neither zest nor energy:
Their own men bring down both, indeed
Of this no doubt can ever be.
(42) One whom all his kin disown,
It’s easy to put away.
Win them with some favours shown,
And him they themselves will slay.
(43) The coward, running away from war,
Guarantees his own destruction;
And one whose men are insecure
Will, in conflict, face desertion.
(44) The miser does not booty share,
Therefore his men will not fight;
And if they thoughts covetous bear,
They’ll also kill him for a mite.
(45) One whose aides are disaffected
Will, in war, abandoned be;
And one to pleasures much addicted,
Can be struck at easily.
(46) Those who in council vacillate,
Their ministers all despise
And ignore in tasks of state,
Because their will is imprecise.
(47) The blasphemer who does revile
Gods and prelates all the while—
By dharma’s power, it is known,
He will perish on his own.
And so will he, whose luck is out—
Of this there is not any doubt.
(48) Success or adversity—
Both are due to destiny.
Thinking this is always true,
The fatalist will nothing do.
(49) One by famine overtaken
Will perish on his own, ‘tis sure;
And one by troops rebellious shaken
Has no strength to enter war.
(50) In exile one can easily
Be slain by foes insignificant.
A crocodile, though small it be,
In water, drowns the elephant.
(51) Like a dove midst birds of prey
Is one with many enemies.
He perishes soon, whichever way,
Terrified, he tries to flee.
(52) One untimely gone to fight
Gets killed, as was the crow at night,
By one with opportunity—
The owl who could in darkness see.
(53) Peace one must not ever make
With him who does true faith forsake.
Apostates, though allies be,
Such always is their perfidy
That there will not be much delay
Before from one they turn away.
‘I will also tell you this,’ the goose continued. ‘There are six means employed in statecraft. They are: making war; making peace or an alliance; mounting an expedition; halting and waiting; taking shelter; and making a feint. There are five subjects to be determined through counsel and consultation. These are: the methods for initiating a measure; the maximum mobilization of men and money; the management of time and space; insuring against accidents; and the successful conclusion of an enterprise. Expedients of policy there are four: conciliation, inducement, disruption and force. And there are three sources of state power: the leader’s own energy and charisma; the quality of advice he gets; and the resources at his disposal. Those who wish for victory should always pay attention to all of these. Thus they can achieve greatness.
(54) Hard to gain is Sovereignty—
She cannot even for the fee
Of giving up one’s life be bought.
But though capricious, this cocotte
Will running to the mansions go
Of those who well all policy know.
‘And as it is said,
(55) One who keeps his treasury
Portioned well and equally,
Whose spies covertly ply their trade,
Whose counsels are in secret made,
Who never speaks unpleasantly:
He’ll rule the earth right to the sea.
‘But, sire, although his great minister, the vulture, has proposed that peace be made, this has not been accepted so far by the king because of his arrogance at their recent victory. In this situation we should do the following. Our friend, the stork named Mahābala or Greatmight, is the king of the isle of Simhala. Let him create a disturbance in Jambu island. For,
(56) The brave man, with a compact force
To secret movements takes recourse,
And harasses the enemy
Till he is troubled equally.
When both suffer adversities
They will, for certain, look for peace.’
The king agreed and despatched a crane named Vichitra or Speckled to Simhala island with a confidential letter.
Meanwhile the spy returned and informed the king, ‘Sire, listen to what happened there. The vulture told his king that as Cloudcolour had stayed here for a long time, he would know if King Goldegg did or did n
ot have the qualities appropriate for an ally.
King Dapple then summoned Cloudcolour, and asked, ‘Crow, what is Goldegg like? Also, how is his minister, the goose?’
‘Sire,’ said the crow, ‘King Goldegg is as noble a soul as Yudhisthira.8 As for the goose, a minister like him will not be found anywhere.’
‘If that is so,’ the king responded, ‘then how did he get taken in by you?’ Cloudcolour smiled and said, ‘Sire,
(57) Does cheating need ingenuity
With those who trust in you do place?
Can murder ever manly be
Of one who sleeps in your embrace?
‘Listen, sire, the minister knew what I was as soon as he saw me. But the king was a noble soul, and therefore I was able to deceive him. As it is said,
(58) One who thinks a knave to be
Like himself in honesty
Is deceived, as was the priest
By rogues who robbed him of his beast.’
‘How did that happen?’ the king asked. Cloudcolour narrated
The Priest and the Three Rogues
‘There was a priest who arranged a fire sacrifice in Gautama’s forest. He went to another village to buy a goat for the sacrifice and, as he was returning with the animal on his shoulder, he was observed by three rogues. “If we can get hold of this goat by some stratagem,” the rogues said to themselves, “it will indeed be a proof of our wit and wiles.” They then took position under three separate trees at intervals of a krosa9 each on the path taken by the priest, and lay in wait.
As the priest passed by, the first rogue called out, “O priest, why are you carrying a dog on your shoulder?” “It is not a dog,” replied the priest, “it is a goat for the sacrifice.” But when the second rogue standing further down the road said the same thing, the priest put the goat down on the ground and inspected it repeatedly. Finally he put it back on his shoulder and went on, but his mind wavered with doubt. For,
(59) Even good men’s minds, it’s true,
Waver when the wicked speak;
And trusting them, they perish too,
Like Spotted Ear, the camel meek.’
‘How did that happen?’ the king asked. The crow narrated
The Credulous Camel
In a certain forest region there lived a lion named Madotkata or Choleric. His three servants, a crow, a tiger and a jackal, were once wandering about when they saw a camel who had got separated from his herd. ‘From where have you come, sir?’ they asked him, and he told them his story. They then took him and presented him before the lion who granted him asylum and safe conduct, and named him ćitrakarna or Spotted Ear.
Once it rained heavily. The lion fell ill and could not hunt, and the servants had nothing to eat. Filled with anxiety, they told each other, ‘Let us so arrange things that the master at least kills Spotted Ear. What have we got to do with this eater of thorns?’ ‘But how will this be possible?’ the tiger asked. ‘The master has already favoured him with a safe conduct.’
‘At this moment the master is so famished,’ the jackal observed, ‘that he will even commit a heinous sin. For,
(60) A woman will her child forsake
When hunger’s pangs she can’t evade,
As will the famished mother snake
Eat eggs that she herself has laid:
What sins will not the starving do?
Men grown gaunt turn pitiless too.
‘Further,
(61) One who’s hungry, one dead drunk,
Or gone mad, or in a funk,
Or filled with anger, or with greed,
Or careless in both thought and deed,
Or in a hurry, or simply tired,
Or by carnal passion fired:
One who is in such a state,
He cannot virtue appreciate.’
After having deliberated in this way, they all went to the lion. ‘Have you got something to eat?’ the lion asked. ‘Nothing at all,’ they said, ‘despite every effort.’
‘How then will we survive?’ the lion remonstrated. ‘Sire,’ said the crow, ‘the food is there at our disposal. It is because we reject it that we are facing disaster.’
‘And what food is at our disposal here?’ the lion asked. ‘Spotted Ear,’ the crow whispered in his ear.
The lion touched the ground and then both his ears in horror. ‘I have kept him there after promising him safe conduct,’ he said. ‘How is this possible? Besides,
(62) Not gift of land, or cows, or gold,
Nor that of foodgrains can it be—
Of all the gifts, we have been told,
The greatest is security.
‘Further,
(63) The sacred sacrificial fires
It’s known, can fulfill all desires.
But the fruit that they ordain
Is the same that one may gain
By protecting faithfully
Those who come for sanctuary.’
‘It is not for the master to kill him,’ said the crow. ‘It is for us to so arrange matters that he will himself agree to donate his own person.’ On hearing this the lion kept silent.
The crow then hatched a conspiracy. On getting an opportunity, he took all the others and went to the lion. ‘Sire, we have not found any food despite every effort,’ he said. ‘The master is fatigued with so much fasting. So, let him eat my flesh now. For,
(64) The master is indeed the root
Which does all the subjects bear.
Man’s endeavours will give fruit
Both tree and root when they do rear.’
‘My good fellow!’ the lion exclaimed, ‘it will be better for me to give up life than even think of such a possibility.’
The same offer was made by the jackal which also the lion declined. ‘May the master live on my flesh,’ the tiger then said, and the lion replied, ‘This can never be proper.’
Convinced by all this, Spotted Ear also offered himself similarly. Even as he was speaking, the tiger ripped his belly open. Thus was he slain and devoured by the rest.
‘That is why I spoke about the wavering of even good minds,’ the crow concluded. ‘After listening to the third rogue, the priest was convinced that his own mind had got confused. So, he discarded the goat, had a purificatory bath, and went home, while the rogues took away the beast and ate it up. That is why I referred to the person who judges a knave as himself’
‘Cloudcolour, how did you manage to stay so long among our enemies, and keep them pleased?’ the king asked. ‘What cannot be done, sire,’ replied Cloudcolour, ‘by one who wants to do his master’s work, or acts in his own interest? Look,
(65) Do not men bear on their brow
the wood they will in fire throw,
And rivers wash the feet of trees
Even as they destroy these?
‘And it is said, similarly,
(66) To get a thing for which they care
The wise will even enemies bear
On their backs, as did the snake
Who hunted frogs, a meal to make.’
‘How did that happen?’ the king asked. Cloudcolour narrated
The Cunning Old Snake
In a ruined garden there was an aged snake named Mandavisa or Dullvenom, who had become so old that he was unable even to search for food. So he just kept lying by the side of a pond. There he was seen by a frog, who asked, ‘Why is it that you are not searching for food?’
‘Let me be, good sir,’ said the serpent, ‘What is the point of putting such questions to someone as ill-starred as myself?’
This aroused the frog’s curiosity. ‘Tell me, nevertheless,’ he insisted. Finally the snake said, ‘Good sir, in Brahmapura there lives the learned priest Kauṇḍinya. He had a son, about twenty years of age, who was endowed with every good quality. Unfortunately, I was wicked enough to bite this boy, who was named Suśila.
‘Seeing his son dead, Kauṇḍinya swooned with grief and fell rolling on the ground. All his kinsmen and other inh
abitants of Brahmapura gathered there and sat around him. As it is said:
(67) Know him to be the comrade true,10
In glee or gloom who stands by you,
In times of famine, anarchy,
In law court and the cemetery.
‘Among those present was a person named Kapila who had just graduated to the status of a householder after completing his religious studies. He said, “O Kauṇḍinya, you are a fool to lament like this. Listen,
(68) When one is born, the first embrace
Is from the midwife, Transience.
The mother takes a later place:
Mourning therefore makes no sense.
(69) Where did all the mighty go
With cavalcades of splendour rare?
Witness to their passing show
Even now this earth does bear.
“Furthermore,
(70) Ailments in this body bide,
Misfortunes in wealth reside,
Parting is inbuilt in meeting,
All creation is so fleeting.
(71) This body, we do not see,
Wastes away continuously.
We notice only when it dies,
Like a vessel liquefies
When it’s made of unbaked clay
And filled with water cannot stay.
(72) Death comes closer, day by day,
To every creature, it is clear,
As step by step, to one on way
To execution, it draws near.
(73) Beauty, youth, of wealth a store,
Power, loved ones we adore,
And life itself are transitory:
For the wise, of this, no doubt can be.
(74) Drifting on the sea’s expanse,
As two logs will meet by chance,
And having met, will part perforce—
Such is creatures’ intercourse.
(75) As travellers, in some wayside shade,
Rest awhile in journey’s course,