Story of Tapodatta.
There lived in Pratishṭhána a Bráhman of the name of Tapodatta. He, though his father kept worrying him, would not learn the sciences in his boyhood. Subsequently he found himself censured by all, and being filled with regret, he went to the bank of the Ganges, in order to perform asceticism for the acquisition of knowledge.[3] There he betook himself to severe mortification of the flesh, and while he was thus engaged, Indra, who had beheld him with astonishment, came to him to prevent him, disguised as a Bráhman. And when he had come near him, he kept taking grains of sand from the bank, and throwing them into the billowy water of the Ganges. When Tapodatta saw that, he broke his silence, and asked him out of curiosity—“Bráhman, why do you do this unceasingly?” And Indra, disguised as a Bráhman, when he had been persistently questioned by him, said, “I am making a bridge over the Ganges for man and beast to cross by.” Then Tapodatta said, “You fool, is it possible to make a bridge over the Ganges with sand, which will be carried away at some future time by the current?” When Indra, disguised as a Bráhman, heard that, he said to him—“If you know this truth, why do you attempt to acquire knowledge by vows and fasting, without reading or hearing lectures? The horn of a hare[4] may really exist, and the sky may be adorned with painting, and writing may be performed without letters, if learning may be acquired without study. If it could be so acquired, no one in this world would study at all.” When Indra, disguised as a Bráhman, had said this to Tapodatta, Tapodatta reflected, and thinking that he had spoken truth, put a stop to his self-mortification, and went home.
“So, you see, a wise man is easily made to listen to reason, but the foolish Marubhúti cannot be induced to listen to reason, but when you admonish him, he flies into a passion.” When Gomukha said this, Hariśikha said before the company—“It is true, O king, that the wise are easily induced to listen to reason.”
Story of Virúpaśarman.
For instance, there lived of old time in Benares a certain excellent Bráhman, named Virúpaśarman, who was deformed and poor. And he, being despondent about his misshapen form and his poverty, went to the grove of ascetics there, and began to practise severe mortification of the flesh, through desire for beauty and wealth. Then the king of the gods[5] assumed the vile shape of a deformed jackal with a diseased body, and went and stood in front of him. When he saw that unfortunate[6] creature with its body covered with flies, Virúpaśarman slowly reflected in his mind,—“Such creatures are born into the world on account of actions done in a former life, so is it a small thing for me that I was not made thus by the Creator? Who can overstep the lot prescribed by destiny?” When Virúpaśarman perceived this, he brought his self-mortification to an end and went home.
“So true is it, O king, that a wise man is instructed with little effort, but one, whose mind is void of discernment, is not instructed even with great exertion.” Thus spoke Hariśikha, and Gomukha assented, but Marubhúti, who was drunk and did not understand a joke, said in great anger, “There is power in the speech of Gomukha, but there is no might in the arms of men like you. A garrulous, quarrelsome, effeminate person makes heroes blush.” When Marubhúti said this, being eager for a fight, king Naraváhanadatta, with a smile on his face, himself tried to appease him, and after dismissing him to his house, the king, who loved the friends of his youth, performed the duties of the day, and so spent it in great comfort. And the next day, when all these ministers came, and among them Marubhúti bowed down with shame, his beloved Ratnaprabhá spake thus to the prince: “You, my husband, are very fortunate in that you have these pure-hearted ministers bound to you by the fetters of a love dating from early childhood, and they are happy in possessing such an affectionate master; you have been gained by one another through actions in a former state of existence; of that there can be no doubt.” When the queen said this, Tapantaka the son of Vasantaka, the companion in amusements of Naraváhanadatta, remarked—“It is true; our master has been gained by our actions in a former life. For every thing depends upon the power of actions in a former life—Hear in illustration of it the following tale.”
Story of king Vilásaśíla and the physician Taruṇachandra.
There dwelt in a city named Vilásapura, the home of Śiva, a king rightly named Vilásaśíla.[7] He had a queen named Kamalaprabhá, whom he valued as his life, and he long remained with her addicted to pleasure only. Then in course of time there came upon the king old age, the thief of beauty, and when he beheld it, he was sorely grieved. He thought to himself—“How can I shew to the queen my face marred with grey hairs like a snow-smitten lotus? Alas! it is better that I should die.” Busied with reflections like these, the king summoned into his hall of audience a physician named Taruṇachandra[8] and thus spake to him respectfully—“My good man, because you are clever and devoted to me, I ask you whether there is any artifice by which this old age can be averted.” When Taruṇachandra, who was rightly named as being only of the magnitude of one digit, and desiring to become a full moon, heard that, the cunning fellow reflected—“I must make my profit out of this blockhead of a king, and I shall soon discover the means of doing it.” Having thus reflected, the physician said to the king: “If you will remain in an underground chamber alone, O king, for eight months, and take this medicine, I engage to remove your old age.”[9] When the king heard this, he had such an underground chamber prepared, for fools intent on objects of sense cannot endure reflection. But the ministers used arguments like the following with him—“O king, by the goodness and asceticism and self-denial of men of old time, and by the virtue of the age, elixirs were produced. But these forest remedies,[10] which we hear of now, O king, owing to the want of proper materials, produce the opposite effect to that which is intended, and this is quite in accordance with the treatises; for rogues do in this way make sport with fools. Does time past ever return, O king?”—Still these arguments did not penetrate into his soul, for it was encased in the thick armour of violent sensual desire. And in accordance with the advice of that physician, he entered that underground chamber alone, excluding the numerous retinue that usually waits upon a king. And alone with one servant belonging to that physician, he made himself a slave to the taking of drugs and the rest of the treatment. And the king remained there in that dark subterranean den, which seemed as if it were the overflowing, through abundance, of the ignorance of his heart. And after the king had spent six months in that underground chamber, that wicked physician, seeing that his senility had increased, brought a certain young man who resembled him in appearance, with whom he had agreed that he would make him king. Then he dug a tunnel into that underground chamber from a distance, and after killing the king in his sleep, he brought his corpse out by the underground passage, and threw it into a dark well. All this was done at night. And by the same tunnel he introduced that young man into the underground chamber, and closed that tunnel. What audacious wickedness will not a low fellow, who is held in check by no restraints, commit, when he gets a favourable chance of practising upon fools? Then, the next day, the physician said to all the subjects,—“This king has been made young again by me in six months, and in two months his form will be changed again—So show yourselves to him now at a little distance.” Thus he spake, and brought them all to the door of the underground chamber, and shewed them to the young man, telling him at the same time their names and occupations. By this artifice he kept instructing that young man in the underground chamber in the names of all the subjects every day for two months, not excepting even the inhabitants of the harem.