Book III (Crows and Owls) — The Old Man with the Young Wife

There was once an aged merchant in a certain town, and his name was Lovelorn. To such an extent had love clouded his reason that, when his wife died, he gave much money in order to marry the daughter of a penniless

shopkeeper. But the girl was heart-broken and could not bear to look at the old merchant. This, indeed, might have been anticipated.

The silvered head will sue in vain,

A maiden’s love beseeching;

The maid, despising it, is fain

To flee afar with screeching;

Like Hangman’s Well it causes pain, Where dead men’s bones are bleaching.

And furthermore:

Slow, tottering steps the strength exhaust; The eye unsteady blinks;

From driveling mouth the teeth are lost; The handsome figure shrinks;

The limbs are wrinkled: relatives

And wife contemptuous pass;

The son no further honor gives

To doddering age. Alas!

Now one night, while she was turning her back to him in bed, a thief entered the house. And she was terrified at seeing a thief, and embraced her husband, old as he was. He, for his part, felt every limb thrill with astonishment and love, and he thought: “Gracious me! Why does she hug me tonight?” Then, peering narrowly about, he discovered the thief in a corner, and reflected: “No doubt she embraces me from fear of him.” So he said to the thief:

“She who always shrank from me, Hugs me to her breast;

Thank you, benefactor! Take What you like the best.”

And the thief made reply:

“Nothing here that I should like; Should I want a thing,

Ill return if she does not Passionately cling.”

“Thus advantage may be anticipated from a benefactor, thief though he be. How much more from a suppliant guest? Besides, having been maltreated by them, he will labor for our success, or for the revelation of their vulnerable point. In view of this, he should not be killed.”

Having listened to this view, Foe-Crusher questioned another counselor, namely, Hook-Nose. “My worthy sir, what should be done under the present circumstances?” And Hook-Nose answered: “O King, he should not be killed. For

From enemies expect relief,

If discord pierce their host; Thus, life was given by the thief And cattle by the ghost.”

“How was that?” asked Foe-Crusher. And Hook-Nose told the story of

THE BRAHMAN, THE THIEF, AND THE GHOST

There was once a poor Brahman in a certain place. He lived on presents, and always did without such luxuries as fine clothes and ointments and perfumes and garlands and gems and betel-gum. His beard and his nails were long, and so was the hair that covered his head and his body. Heat, cold, rain, and the like had dried him up.

Then someone pitied him and gave him two calves. And the Brahman began when they were little and fed them on butter and oil and fodder and other things that he begged. So he made them very plump.

Then a thief saw them and the idea came to him at once: “I will steal these two cows from this Brahman.” So he took a rope and set out at night. But on the way he met a fellow with a row of sharp teeth set far apart, with

a high-bridged nose and uneven eyes, with limbs covered with knotty muscles, with hollow cheeks, with beard and body as yellow as a fire with much butter in it.

And when the thief saw him, he started with acute fear and said: “Who are you, sir?”

The other said: “I am a ghost named Truthful. It is now your turn to explain yourself.”

The thief said: “I am a thief, and my acts are cruel. I am on my way to steal two cows from a poor Brahman.”

Then the ghost felt relieved and said: “My dear sir, I take one meal every three days. So I will just eat this Brahman today. It is delightful that you and I are on the same errand.”

So together they went there and hid, waiting for the proper moment. And when the Brahman went to sleep, the ghost started forward to eat him. But the thief saw him and said: “My dear sir, this is not right. You are not to eat the Brahman until I have stolen his two cows.”

The ghost said: “The racket would most likely wake the Brahman. In that case all my trouble would be vain.”

“But, on the other hand,” said the thief, “if any hindrance arises when you start to eat him, then I cannot steal the two cows either. First I will steal the two cows, then you may eat the Brahman.”

So they disputed, each crying “Me first! Me first!” And when they became heated, the hubbub waked the Brahman. Then the thief said: “Brahman, this is a ghost who wishes to eat you.” And the ghost said: “Brahman, this is a thief who wishes to steal your two cows.”

When the Brahman heard this, he stood up and took a good look. And by remembering a prayer to his favorite god, he saved his life from the ghost, then lifted a club and saved his two cows from the thief.

“And that is why I say:

From enemies expect relief, ... and the rest of it.

Besides:

The Scriptures tell a holy tale

Of sacrificial love,

How Shibi gave the hawk his flesh As ransom for the dove—

showing that it is contrary to religion to slay a suppliant.”

Having listened to this opinion, the king asked Wall-Ear: “What is your view, sir? Tell me.” And Wall-Ear said: “O King, he certainly should not be killed. For if you spare his life, you two may well grow fond of each other, and spend the time pleasantly. There is a saying:

Be quick with mutual defense In honest give-and-take;

Or perish, like the ant-hill beast And like the belly-snake.”

“How was that?” asked Foe-Crusher. And Wall-Ear told the story of

THE SNAKE IN THE PRINCE’S BELLY

In a certain city dwelt a king whose name was Godlike. He had a son who wasted daily in every limb because of a snake that used his belly as a home instead of an ant-hill. So the prince became dejected and went to another country. In a city of that country he begged alms, spending his time in a great temple.

Now in that city was a king named Gift, who had two daughters in early womanhood. One of these bowed daily at her father’s feet with the greeting: “Victory, O King,” while the other said: “Your deserts, O King.”

At this the king grew angry, and said: “See, counselors. This young lady speaks malevolently. Give her to some foreigner. Let her have her own deserts.” To this the counselors agreed, and gave the princess, with very few maid-servants, to the prince who made his home in the temple.

And she was delighted, accepted her husband like a god, and went with him to a far country. There by the edge of a tank in a distant city she left the prince to look after the house while she went with her maids to buy butter, oil, salt, rice, and other supplies. When her shopping was done, she returned and found the prince with his head resting on an ant-hill. And from his mouth issued the head of a hooded snake, taking the air. Likewise another snake crawled from the ant-hill, also to take the air.

When these two saw each other, their eyes grew red with anger, and the ant-hill snake said: “You villain! How can you torment in this way a prince who is so perfectly handsome?” And the snake in the prince’s mouth said: “Villain yourself! How can you bemire those two pots full of gold?” In this fashion each laid bare the other’s weakness.

Then the ant-hill snake continued: “You villain! Doesn’t anybody know the simple remedy of drinking black mustard and so destroying you?” And the belly-snake retorted: “And doesn’t anybody know the simple way to destroy you, by pouring in hot water?”

Now the princess, hiding behind a branch, overheard their conversation, and did just as they suggested. So she made her husband sound and well, and acquired vast wealth. When she returned to her own country, she was highly honored by father, mother, and relatives, and lived happily. For she had her deserts.

“And that is why I say:

Be quick with mutual defense, ... and the rest of it.”

Now Foe-Crusher, having heard their advice, agreed. But Red-Eye, perceiving that the matter was decided, continued his remarks with a quiet

sneer: “Alas! Alas! Our lord the king has been wickedly done to death by you gentlemen. For the proverb says:

Where honor is withheld or paid Mistakenly, ‘tis clear

Three things have unrestricted course: Famine, and death, and fear.

And again:

It argues utter want of sense

To pardon obvious offense:

The carpenter upon his head

Took wife and him who fouled his bed.”

“How was that?” asked the counselors, and Red-Eye told the story of