But when he was being taken to the place of execution, the goddess presiding over that omen, who had seen the proceedings of his wife during the night, said to herself, “This man has reaped the fruit of the evil omens, but as he said, ‘Hail! Hail!’ I must save him from execution.” Having thus reflected, the goddess exclaimed unseen from the air, “Executioners, this young Bráhman is innocent; you must not put him to death: go and see the nose between the teeth of the impaled thief.” When she had said this, she related the proceedings of his wife during the night. Then the executioners, believing the story, represented it to the king by the mouth of the warder, and the king, seeing the nose between the teeth of the thief, remitted the capital sentence passed on Agniśarman, and sent him home; and punished that wicked wife, and imposed a penalty on her relations[10] also.
“Such, king, is the character of women.” When that minister had said this, King Vikramáditya approved his saying, exclaiming, “So it is.” Then the cunning Múladeva, who was near the king, said, “King, are there no good women, though some are bad? Are there no mango-creepers, as well as poisonous creepers? In proof that there are good women, hear what happened to me.”
Story of Múladeva.[11]
I went once to Páṭaliputra with Śaśin, thinking that it was the home of polished wits, and longing to make trial of their cleverness. In a tank outside that city I saw a woman washing clothes, and I put this question to her, “Where do travellers stay here?” The old woman gave me an evasive answer, saying, “Here the Brahmany ducks stay on the banks, the fish in the water, the bees in the lotuses, but I have never seen any part where travellers stay.” When I got this answer, I was quite nonplussed, and I entered the city with Śaśin.
There Śaśin saw a boy crying at the door of a house, with a warm[12] rice-pudding on a plate in front of him, and he said, “Dear me! this is a foolish child not to eat the pudding in front of him, but to vex himself with useless weeping.” When the child heard this, he wiped his eyes, and said laughing, “You fools do not know the advantages I get by crying. The pudding gradually cools and so becomes nice, and another good comes out of it; my phlegm is diminished thereby. These are the advantages I derive from crying; I do not cry out of folly; but you country bumpkins are fools because you do not see what I do it for.”
When the boy said this, Śaśin and I were quite abashed at our stupidity, and we went away astonished to another part of the town. There we saw a beautiful young lady on the trunk of a mango-tree, gathering mangoes, while her attendants stood at its foot. We said to the young lady, “Give us also some mangoes, fair one.” And she answered, “Would you like to eat your mangoes cold or hot?” When I heard that, I said to her, wishing to penetrate the mystery, “We should like, lovely one, to eat some warm ones first, and to have the others afterwards.” When she heard this, she flung down some mango-fruits into the dust on the ground. We blew the dust off them and then ate them. Then the young lady and her attendants laughed, and she said to us, “I first gave you these warm mangoes, and you cooled them by blowing on them, and then ate them; catch these cool ones, which will not require blowing on, in your clothes.” When she had said this, she threw some more fruits into the flaps of our garments.
We took them, and left that place thoroughly ashamed of ourselves. Then I said to Śaśin and my other companions, “Upon my word I must marry this clever girl, and pay her out for the way in which she has made a fool of me; otherwise what becomes of my reputation for sharpness?” When I said this to them, they found out her father’s house, and on a subsequent day we went there disguised so that we could not be recognised.
And while we were reading the Veda there, her father the Bráhman Yajnasvámin came up to us, and said, “Where do you come from?” We said to that rich and noble Bráhman, “We have come here from the city of Máyápurí to study;” thereupon he said to us, “Then stay the next four months in my house; shew me this favour, as you have come from a distant country.” When we heard this, we said, “We will do what you say, Bráhman, if you will give us, at the end of the four months, whatever we may ask for.” When we said this to Yajnasvámin, he answered, “If you ask for anything that it is in my power to give, I will certainly give it.” When he made this promise, we remained in his house. And when the four months were at an end, we said to that Bráhman, “We are going away, so give us what we ask for, as you long ago promised to do.” He said, “What is that?” Then Śaśin pointed to me and said, “Give your daughter to this man, who is our chief.” Then the Bráhman Yajnasvámin, being bound by his promise, thought, “These fellows have tricked me; never mind; there can be no harm in it; he is a deserving youth.” So he gave me his daughter with the usual ceremonies.
And when night came, I said laughing to the bride in the bridal chamber, “Do you remember those warm and those cool mangoes?” When she heard this, she recognised me, and said with a smile, “Yes, country bumpkins are tricked in this way by city wits.” Then I said to her, “Rest you fair, city wit; I vow that I the country bumpkin will desert you and go far away.” When she heard this, she also made a vow, saying, “I too am resolved, for my part, that a son of mine by you shall bring you back again.” When we had made one another these promises, she went to sleep with her face turned away, and I put my ring on her finger, while she was asleep. Then I went out, and joining my companions, started for my native city of Ujjayiní, wishing to make trial of her cleverness.