Story of the mice that ate an iron balance.[25]

Once on a time there was a merchant’s son, who had spent all his father’s wealth, and had only an iron balance left to him. Now the balance was made of a thousand palas of iron; and depositing it in the care of a certain merchant, he went to another land. And when, on his return, he came to that merchant to demand back his balance, the merchant said to him: “It has been eaten by mice.” He repeated, “It is quite true, the iron, of which it was composed, was particularly sweet, and so the mice ate it.” This he said with an outward show of sorrow, laughing in his heart. Then the merchant’s son asked him to give him some food, and he, being in a good temper, consented to give him some. Then the merchant’s son went to bathe, taking with him the son of that merchant, who was a mere child, and whom he persuaded to come with him by giving him a dish of ámalakas. And after he had bathed, the wise merchant’s son deposited the boy in the house of a friend, and returned alone to the house of that merchant. And the merchant said to him, “Where is that son of mine?” He replied, “A kite swooped down from the air and carried him off.” The merchant in a rage said, “You have concealed my son,” and so he took him into the king’s judgment-hall; and there the merchant’s son made the same statement. The officers of the court said, “This is impossible, how could a kite carry off a boy?” But the merchant’s son answered; “In a country where a large balance of iron was eaten by mice, a kite might carry off an elephant, much more a boy.”[26] When the officers heard that, they asked about it, out of curiosity, and made the merchant restore the balance to the owner, and he, for his part, restored the merchant’s child.

“Thus, you see, persons of eminent ability attain their ends by an artifice. But you, by your reckless impetuosity, have brought our master into danger.” When Damanaka heard this from Karaṭaka, he laughed and said—“Do not talk like this! What chance is there of a lion’s not being victorious in a fight with a bull? There is a considerable difference between a lion, whose body is adorned with numerous scars of wounds from the tusks of infuriated elephants, and a tame ox, whose body has been pricked by the goad.” While the jackals were carrying on this discussion, the lion killed the bull Sanjívaka. When he was slain, Damanaka recovered his position of minister without a rival, and remained for a long time about the person of the king of beasts in perfect happiness.

Naraváhanadatta much enjoyed hearing from his prime minister Gomukha this wonderful story, which was full of statecraft, and characterized by consummate ability.

Note to Chapter 60. The fables of Pilpay.

Wilson in his collected works, (Vol. IV, p. 139) remarks that we have in the Kathá Sarit Ságara an earlier representative of the original collection of Indian fables, than even the Panchatantra, as it agrees better with the Kalilah and Dimnah than the Panchatantra does. The earliest Indian form of the Panchatantra appears to have been translated into Pehlevi in the time of the king of Persia, Khushru Naushírváns (between 531 and 572 A. D.); upon this the Arabic translation was based. It was edited by Silvestre de Sacy under the title, “Calila et Dimna ou Fables de Bidpai,” and has been translated into German by Wolff, and into English by Knatchbull. There are many recensions of the Arabic translation as of the Panchatantra. (Benfey is of opinion that originally the latter work consisted of more than five sections.) The oldest translation of the Arabic version is the Greek one by Symeon Seth, which was made about 1080, A. D. (Benfey, Einleitung, p. 8, with note). The Latin translation of Possinus was made from this. Perhaps the most important translation of all is the Hebrew translation of Rabbi Joel. It must have been made about 1250. It has never been edited, with the exception of a small fragment, and is practically represented by the Latin translation of John of Capua, made between 1263 and 1278. Benfey considers that the first German translation was made from a MS. of this. The oldest German translation has no date. The second appeared at Ulm in 1483. Another version, probably not based upon any of these, is a poetical paraphrase, the Alter Aesopus of Baldo, edited by Edéléstand du Méril in his Poésies inédites du Moyen Age. There is a Spanish translation from the Arabic, perhaps through an unknown Latin version, which appeared about 1251. A portion has been published by Rodriguez De Castro. Possibly Raimond’s Latin translation was based partly on this, and partly on the Latin translation of the Hebrew by John of Capua.

The Arabic version was translated into Persian by Nasr Allah in the 12th century. Upon it is based the Anvár-i-Suhaili of Husain Vaiz, which was written three centuries later. It has been translated into English by Eastwick. (Hertford 1854). (The above note is summarized from Benfey’s Einleitung). See also Rhys Davids’ Buddhist Birth Stories, Introduction, pp. xciii and xciv. He says that the Arabic version was made from the Syriac.