Book V (Ill-Considered Action) — The Musical Donkey

In a certain town was a donkey named Prig. In the daytime he carried laundry packages, but was at liberty to wander anywhere at night. One night while wandering in the fields he fell in with a jackal and made friends. So the two broke through a hedge into cucumber-beds, and having eaten what they could hold of that comestible, parted at dawn to go home.

One night the egotistical donkey, standing among the cucumbers, said to the jackal: “See, nephew! The night is marvelously fine. I will contribute a song. What sentiment shall my song express?” “Don’t, uncle,” said the jackal. “It might make trouble, seeing that we are on thieves’ business. Thieves and lovers should keep very quiet. As the proverb says:

No sleepyhead should pilfer fur,

No invalid, rich provender,

No sneezer should become a thief— Unless they wish to come to grief.

“Besides, your vocal music is not agreeable, since it resembles a blast on a conch-shell. The farmers would hear you from afar, would rise, and would

fetter or kill you. Better keep quiet and eat.”

“Come, come!” said the donkey. “Your remarks prove that you live in the woods and have no musical taste. Did you never hear this?

Oh, bliss if murmurs sweet to hear

Of music’s nectar woo your ear

When darkness flees from moonlight clear In autumn, and your love is near.”

“Very true, uncle,” said the jackal. “But your bray is harsh. Why do a thing that defeats your own purpose?” “Fool, fool!” answered the donkey. “Do you think me ignorant of vocal music? Listen to its systematization, as follows:

Seven notes, three scales, and twenty-one Are modulations said to be;

Of pitches there are forty-nine,

Three measures, also pauses three;

Caesuras three; and thirty-six Arrangements of the notes, in fine; Six apertures; the languages

Are forty; sentiments are nine.

One hundred songs and eighty-five Are found in songbooks, perfect, pure, With all accessories complete, Unblemished in their phrasing sure.

On earth is nothing nobler found,

Nor yet in heaven, than vocal song;

The singing Devil soothes the Lord,

When quivering strings the sound prolong.

“After this, how can you think me lacking in educated taste? How can you try to hinder me?”

“Very well, uncle,” said the jackal. “I will stay by the gap in the hedge, and look for farmers. You may sing to heart’s content.”

When he had done so, the donkey lifted his neck and began to utter sounds. But the farmers, hearing the bray of a donkey, angrily clenched their teeth, snatched cudgels, rushed in, and beat him so that he fell to the ground. Next they hobbled him by fastening on his neck a mortar with a convenient hole, then went to sleep. Presently the donkey stood up, forgetting the pain as donkeys naturally do. As the verse puts it:

With dog, and ass, and horse, And donkey more than most, The pain from beatings is Immediately lost.

Then with the mortar on his neck, he trampled the hedge and started to run away. At this moment the jackal, looking on from a safe distance, said with a smile:

Well sung, uncle! Why would you Not stop when I told you to? What a necklace! Yes, you wear Music medals rich and rare.

“Just so, you would not stop when I advised it.”

After listening to this, the wheel-bearer said: “O my friend, you are quite right. Yes, there is much wisdom in the verse:

He who, lacking wit, does not Harken to a friend,

Just like weaver Slow, inclines To a fatal end.”

“How was that?” asked the gold-finder. And the wheel-bearer told the

story of

SLOW, THE WEAVER

In a certain town lived a weaver named Slow. One day all the pegs in his loom broke. So he took an axe, and in his search for wood, came to the seashore. There he found a great sissoo tree, and he thought: “This seems a good-sized tree. If I cut it down, I can make plenty of weaving-tools.” He therefore lifted his axe upon it.

Now there was a fairy in the tree who said: “My friend, this tree is my home. Please spare it. For I live here in utter happiness, since my body is caressed by breezes cool from contact with ocean billows.”

“But, sir,” said the weaver, “what am I to do? While I lack apparatus made of wood, my family is pinched by hunger. Therefore, please move elsewhere, and quickly. I intend to cut it down.”

“Sir,” said the fairy, “I have taken a liking to you. Ask anything you like, but spare this tree.”

“In that case,” said the weaver, “I will go home and return after asking my friend and my wife.” And when the fairy consented, the weaver started home. On entering the town, he encountered his particular friend, the barber, and said: “My friend, I have won the favor of a fairy. Tell me what to ask for.”

And the barber said: “My dear fellow, if it is really so, ask for a kingdom. You can be king, and I will be prime minister. So we shall both taste the delights of this world before those of the world to come.”

“Quite so, my friend,” replied the weaver. “However, I shall ask my wife, too.” “Don’t,” said the barber. “It is a mistake to consult women. As the saying goes:

Give a woman food and dresses (Chiefly when her trouble presses);

Give her gems and all things nice; Do not ask for her advice.

And again:

Where a woman, gambler, child, As a guide is domiciled,

Death advances, stage by stage— So declares the ancient sage.

And once again:

Only while he does not hear Woman’s whisper in his ear. May a man a leader be, Keeping due humility.

Women seek for selfish treasures, Think of nothing but their pleasures, Even children by them reckoned

To their selfish comfort second.”

And the weaver rejoined: “You may be right. Still, I shall ask her. She is a good wife.”

So he made haste and said to her: “My dear wife, today we won the favor of a fairy. He offers anything we want. So I have come to ask you to tell me what to say to him. Here is my friend, the barber, who tells me to ask for a kingdom.”

“Dear husband,” said she, “what sense have barbers? Do not take his advice. For the proverb says:

All advice you may discard From a barber, child, or bard, Monk or hermit or musician, Or a man of base condition.

“Besides, this king-business means a series of dreadful troubles and involves worry about peace, war, change of base, entrenchment, alliance, duplicity, and other matters. It never gives satisfaction. And even worse,

His very sons and brothers wish The slaughter of a king;

As this is kingship’s nature, who Would not reject the thing?”

“Yes,” said the weaver, “you are right. But tell me what to ask for.” And she replied: “As it is, you turn out one piece of cloth a day, and this meets all our expenses. Now ask for a second pair of arms and an extra head, so that you may produce one piece of cloth in front and another behind. The price of one meets the household expenses, with the price of the other you may put on style and spend the time in honor among your peers.”

On hearing this, he was delighted and said: “Splendid, my faithful wife! You have made a splendid suggestion. I am determined to follow it.”

So the weaver went and laid his request before the fairy: “Well, sir, if you offer what I wish, pray give me a second pair of arms and an extra head.” And in the act of speaking he became two-headed and four-armed.

But as he came home, delight in his heart, the people thought he was a fiend, and beat him with clubs and stones and things so that he died.

“And that is why I say:

He who, lacking wit, does not, ... and the rest of it.”

Then the wheel-bearer continued: “Yes, any man becomes ridiculous when bitten by the demon of extravagant hope. There is sense in this:

Do not indulge in hopes Extravagantly high:

Else, whitened like the sire Of Moon-Lord, you will lie.”

“How was that?” asked the gold-finder. And the other told the story of

THE BRAHMAN’S DREAM

In a certain town lived a Brahman named Seedy, who got some barley- meal by begging, ate a portion, and filled a jar with the remainder. This jar he hung on a peg one night, placed his cot beneath it, and fixing his gaze on the jar, fell into a hypnotic reverie.

“Well, here is a jar full of barley-meal,” he thought. “Now if famine comes, a hundred rupees will come out of it. With that sum I will get two she-goats. Every six months they will bear two more she-goats. After goats, cows. When the cows calve, I will sell the calves. After cows, buffaloes; after buffaloes, mares. From the mares I shall get plenty of horses. The sale of these will mean plenty of gold. The gold will buy a great house with an inner court. Then someone will come to my house and offer his lovely daughter with a dowry. She will bear a son, whom I shall name Moon-Lord. When he is old enough to ride on my knee, I will take a book, sit on the stable roof, and think. Just then Moon-Lord will see me, will jump from his mother’s lap in his eagerness to ride on my knee, and will go too near the horses. Then I shall get angry and tell my wife to take the boy. But she will be busy with her chores and will not pay attention to what I say. Then I will get up and kick her.”

Being sunk in his hypnotic dream, he let fly such a kick that he smashed the jar. And the barley-meal which it contained turned him white all over.

“And that is why I say:

Do not indulge in hopes, ... and the rest of it.”

“Very true, indeed,” said the gold-finder. “For

Greedy folk who do not heed Consequences of a deed, Suffer disappointment soon; For example take King Moon.”

“How was that?” asked the wheel-bearer. And the other told the story of