They replied: “We serve the merchant from Takshaśilā.”
She said: “O youths, my son also is a merchant, and he has travelled into another land with merchandise. As I suppose that his servants, like yourselves, are borrowing implements from other people, ye are at liberty to use all the utensils which are in this house, just as if they were your own.”
So the servants made daily use of those utensils, and when the merchant had asked them whence they obtained them, and they had repeated to him the old woman’s words, a friendly feeling was excited within him, and he [[219]]said: “As she has shown you kindness, she shall be my mother.” They told the old woman that their master prized her kindness highly, and regarded her as his mother. Thereupon she said that it would be desirable for her to become acquainted with him, and she asked them to invite the merchant to her house. There she received him with friendly words, saying that she found that he was like her son in appearance, and that he also bore the same name as her son, so that there was no difference between the two. Afterwards she told the wife of the master of the house to send for her daughter, whom she ordered to manifest her respect for her [adopted] brother. When the maiden appeared, and the merchant perceived her beauty, he desired to obtain her as his wife. The old woman said that there was only this drawback; that, as he was not regularly known to her, he might, if he married her daughter, leave her in the lurch. And so, for her security, she demanded that he should bring all his goods into her house. Agreeing to this, he brought his goods into her house. But the old woman immediately took them out of it by another door. When this was done, she promised to give him her daughter.
On the appointed day, and at the appointed hour, she invited the courtesans, adorned with all kinds of ornaments, to the wedding feast, during which they wandered to and fro. The merchant said: “Mother dear, are there only women here, and not a single man?” She yawned. One of the others secretly whispered into his ear: “O merchant, do you not perceive what is going on here? All these women are courtesans. How should there be any man present?” Then he perceived that he had really taken a courtesan to wife, and consequently that he had been duped. Moreover the girl demanded payment from him for her society. But he replied that the whole of his property had been taken away, and that he had no money besides. [[220]]
When he had gone fast asleep, the old woman wrapped him up in a mat and deposited him in the middle of the market-place. When the daylight arrived, and many of the people who dwelt in the city began to come and go, he awoke, and, seeing how he had been treated, he gave way to despair. With eyes filled with tears, he wandered through the squares, the streets, and the roads of Vārāṇasī, and, plagued by hunger, in order to obtain food, he went to the spot where the day-labourers betook themselves. At that time the householder Gautama was building himself a house. As he was looking for day-labourers, the young merchant was brought up to him by one of the others. But the youth seemed to him too young and too little accustomed to work of that kind, so he ordered another man to be sought for. But the youth looked Gautama in the face with tearful eyes. Then Gautama asked him who he was, and whence he came. Full of grief at his pitiful condition, with tearful eyes and choking voice, he slowly said: “O father, as the result of former deeds did I prosperously arrive here from the northwards lying city of Takshaśilā. But now I know not whither I shall go, nor do I know how I shall get back there.” When the householder Gautama perceived how cast down he was, and understood what he said, he felt kindly disposed towards him, and asked him if he knew many persons in Takshaśilā. Receiving an affirmative reply, he asked him if he knew such and such a householder. “O father, I know him, for he is my own father,” answered the merchant. The householder Gautama was greatly pleased, and told the youth that he must not mourn or weep, adding, “As you shall be my son-in-law, this house shall belong to you.” Then the youth took courage, and gave up being mournful. Gautama conferred upon him food, drink, clothes, and ornaments, a dwelling-house and a storehouse, and friendly words. And he said to his wife, “O good one, your [[221]]son-in-law has come. As the wedding is about to take place, have all things in readiness.” Thereupon he was going to fix the day and hour for the wedding, but the youth bade him wait a little longer, as he wished to get possession of his property first. Gautama wanted to prevent him from doing that, saying there was property enough in the house. But he replied: “What shall I do with the property?” As he wished to revenge himself upon the courtesan, he said: “O father, as this is so, I will not marry after the fashion of a man of low family.” Thereupon he left Vārāṇasī.
As he wandered this way and that, he came to the bank of a river, and saw a corpse floating in the water. A raven, which was on the bank, and which wanted to feed on the corpse, could not reach it with its beak. Thereupon it rubbed its beak on a piece of wood, and the beak lengthened. Then the raven fed upon the corpse. Afterwards the raven rubbed its beak upon another piece of wood, and then the beak returned to its former length. The merchant took pieces of those two kinds of wood, and returned home.
He then took five hundred kārshāpaṇas and went to the house of that courtesan, and said to her: “O fair one, as I had no money, you turned me out of the house. Now, as I have money, come let us be friends.” She, who cared for money, made friends with him. Meanwhile, however, the merchant rubbed the wood on her nose, which became very long. She called in all the doctors, and showed them her nose, but none of them could cure her. Given up by all the doctors, she betook herself to the merchant, and begged him to forgive her, and to cure her nose. He replied that he would do so as soon as she had restored him his property. She promised to do so in the course of the day. He rubbed her nose with the second piece of wood, the nose became as it had been before. Then she gave him back all the [[222]]goods which he had brought with him. After that the merchant, with very great joy, took Kṛiśā Gautamī to wife.
The householder Gautama possessed some arable land in a hill district, and he bade his son-in-law go thither with his wife. When the time came for the wife to expect her confinement, her husband allowed her, at her request, to go to her parents’ house, in order that she might there be cared for by her mother. After her confinement and the naming of her boy, she returned with him to her husband.
When the time of her second confinement drew near, she again expressed a desire to go to her parents’ house. Her husband set off with her and the boy in a waggon, but when they had gone half-way she gave birth to a boy. When her husband saw that this was about to take place, he got out of the waggon, sat down under a tree, and fell asleep. While he was completely overcome by slumber, a snake bit him, and he died. When his wife in her turn alighted from the waggon, and went up to the tree, in order to bring her husband the joyful tidings that a son was born unto him, he, as he had given up the ghost, made no reply. She seized him by the hand, and found that he was dead. Then she began to weep. Meantime a thief carried off the oxen.
After weeping for a long time and becoming very mournful, she looked around on every side, pressed the newborn babe to her bosom, took the elder child by the hand, and set out on her way. As a heavy rain had unexpectedly fallen, and all lakes, ponds, and springs were full of water, and the road was flooded by the river, she reflected that if she were to cross the water with both the children at once, she and they might meet with a disaster, and therefore the children had better be taken over separately. So she seated the elder boy on the bank of the river, and took the younger one in her [[223]]arms, walked across to the other side, and laid him down upon the bank. Then she went back for the elder boy. But while she was in the middle of the river, the younger boy was carried off by a jackal. Standing in the middle of the river, the mother waved her hands, trying to scare away the jackal. The elder boy thought that his mother was calling him, and sprang into the water. The bank was very steep, so he fell down and was killed. The mother hastened after the jackal, which let the child drop, and ran off. When she looked at it, she found that it was dead. So after she had wept over it, she threw it into the water. When she saw that her elder son was being carried along by the stream, she became still more distressed. She hastened after him, and found that he also was dead. Bereft of both husband and children, she gave way to despair, and sat down alone on the bank, with only the lower part of her body covered. There she listened to the howling of the wind, the roaring of the forest and of the waves, as well as the singing of various kinds of birds. Then wandering to and fro, with sobs and tears of woe, she lamented the loss of her husband and the two children.