VIII. MAHAUSHADHA AND VIŚĀKHĀ.1 (continued 2)
Anton Schiefner translation
Tormented by hunger, he reflected that, unless he contrived some cunning way of escape, he would die there of starvation. So he said to the jailer that he had, it was true, taken the pearl necklace, but that he had given it to such and such a young merchant. Him also the king’s men summoned, and the two men were set fast connected by wooden fetters.
The merchant used to receive from home dainty food. While he was partaking of it the beggar asked him for some. But the merchant reviled him, saying, “It is all very well for you to accuse me of theft in order that I may nourish you with my food. I will give you none of it.” And having thus spoken, he ate it all up.
After this, when the merchant wished to change his place, and said, “Let us stand up and move,” the beggar replied, “I will not listen to your words; I shall not get up.” Then said the merchant, “Henceforward will I behave so that you will be contented.” Thus with friendly words and with an oath he won over the beggar, and was able to do as he wished.
The next day the merchant sent home orders to provide in future food enough for two persons. Thereat the beggar was highly pleased, and he reflected that in former times he used to wander about the whole city without being able to find the means of filling his belly, but now food and drink in plenty were at hand, and it would be well to call in a courtesan. Accordingly, he accused one of a share in the theft, and the king’s men set her also in the prison. When the beggar was sitting in company with these two prisoners and enjoying food and drink, he said, “Good is it if we get free from here after the space of a dozen years.”
While they so enjoyed themselves a further desire arose within them. They thought that in order to have still more pleasure they must call in a lute-player. So the beggar accused a lute-player also of having taken the string of pearls. Then the king’s men cast him also into the prison.
After some time the others besought the beggar to find some means whereby they might become free, saying that in that case he should want for nothing. He promised to do so, and bethought himself that no one could be of use except Mahaushadha. So he told the king’s men that Mahaushadha’s son had likewise taken part in the affair, and they sent for him also.
When Mahaushadha heard that his son had been imprisoned, he felt that he must certainly go to the palace, for if he did not do so his son would fret himself. On arriving there, he asked the king what offence his son had committed. The king replied that he had been imprisoned on the testimony of the beggar with respect to the stolen pearl necklace. When Mahaushadha had become fully acquainted with the contrivance of the captives, he said to the king, “The theft has not been committed by any of these people. Let them all go free on my word.” So they were released.
After this he went out to the park, and came to the spot, to the very tree, where they had been before. When he looked closely at the tree, he perceived a female monkey sitting at the top of it. Then he felt sure that this animal had taken the string of pearls, and that it must be enticed to come down by some artifice. So he asked the king to go there with his wife, and when there, to hang a necklace round her neck. When that was done, the monkey, as it sat on the tree-top, hung the pearl necklace round its neck. Then Mahaushadha told the king’s wife to dance. When she did so, the monkey on the tree-top also began to dance; but still the string of pearls did not fall from off its neck. In order to bring that about, Mahaushadha asked the king to make his wife, as she danced, hang down her head. Then the monkey also began to dance about with its head hanging down, whereupon the string of pearls fell down from off its neck. Full of joy, the king embraced Mahaushadha and bestowed much property upon him.
After a time the six ministers assembled together and held counsel as to what was to be done, seeing that whereas they had formerly been esteemed, honoured, and exalted by the king, they had now lost their credit on account of a half-starved, gross-witted upstart. Then some of them said, “Inasmuch as we have hitherto been at variance one with another, therefore have we become destitute of power. Now let us go into the park, and when we have gone there, let us take an oath and bind ourselves by a vow. By that means shall we once more recover our power.”
When they had reached the park and there met together, they began to communicate to each other their faults and secrets, saying, “Now will we lend each other support.”
“I ate the king’s peacock,” said one.
“I sinned with the king’s wife,” said another.
“I will do likewise,” said a third.
After all six of them had revealed their secrets to each other, they partook of food out of the same vessel.
But the parrot Māṭhara reported all it had heard to Mahaushadha, and he reported it to the king, who banished those ministers from the country.