Scarcely had the god disappeared, when the Brahman, opening his toothless mouth, prepared to eat the fruit of immortality. Then his wife addressed him in these words, shedding copious tears the while:
“To die, O man, is a passing pain; to be poor is an interminable anguish. Surely our present lot is the penalty of some great crime committed by us in a past state of being.[26] Callest thou this state life? Better we die at once, and so escape the woes of the world!”
Hearing these words, the Brahman sat undecided, with open jaws and eyes fixed upon the apple. Presently he found tongue: “I have accepted the fruit, and have brought it here; but having heard thy speech, my intellect hath wasted away; now I will do whatever thou pointest out.”
The wife resumed her discourse, which had been interrupted by a more than usually copious flow of tears. “Moreover, O husband, we are old, and what are the enjoyments of the stricken in years? Truly quoth the poet—
Die loved in youth, not hated in age.
If that fruit could have restored thy dimmed eyes, and deaf ears, and blunted taste, and warmth of love, I had not spoken to thee thus.”
After which the Brahman threw away the apple, to the great joy of his wife, who felt a natural indignation at the prospect of seeing her goodman become immortal, whilst she still remained subject to the laws of death; but she concealed this motive in the depths of her thought, enlarging, as women are apt to do, upon everything but the truth. And she spoke with such success, that the priest was about to toss in his rage the heavenly fruit into the fire, reproaching the gods as if by sending it they had done him an injury. Then the wife snatched it out of his hand, and telling him it was too precious to be wasted, bade him arise and gird his loins and wend him to the Regent’s palace, and offer him the fruit—as King Vikram was absent—with a right reverend brahmanical benediction. She concluded with impressing upon her unworldly husband the necessity of requiring a large sum of money as a return for his inestimable gift. “By this means,” she said, “thou mayst promote thy present and future welfare.[27]”
Then the Brahman went forth, and standing in the presence of the Raja, told him all things touching the fruit, concluding with “O, mighty prince! vouchsafe to accept this tribute, and bestow wealth upon me. I shall be happy in your living long!”
Bhartari Raja led the supplicant into an inner strongroom, where stood heaps of the finest gold-dust, and bade him carry away all that he could; this the priest did, not forgetting to fill even his eloquent and toothless mouth with the precious metal. Having dismissed the devotee groaning under the burden, the Regent entered the apartments of his wives, and having summoned the beautiful Queen Dangalah Rani, gave her the fruit, and said, “Eat this, light of my eyes! This fruit—joy of my heart!—will make thee everlastingly young and beautiful.”
The pretty queen, placing both hands upon her husband’s bosom, kissed his eyes and lips, and sweetly smiling on his face—for great is the guile of women—whispered, “Eat it thyself, dear one, or at least share it with me; for what is life and what is youth without the presence of those we love?” But the Raja, whose heart was melted by these unusual words, put her away tenderly, and, having explained that the fruit would serve for only one person, departed.