Mahaushadha said that he did not. Then the Brahman took him into his own house and entertained him in a becoming manner. But Mahaushadha suspected that his host’s wife, who loved another man, was a worthless woman. When he took his departure next day the Brahman said to him, “Consider this house as your own when you come here on your journeyings to and fro.”
“That will I do,” replied Mahaushadha, and went his way.
About half-way there was a barley-field, and in it he saw a very beautiful maiden, of high race and of great modesty.
As soon as he saw her a longing after her entered into his mind.
“Good maiden,” he asked, “who are you? Whose daughter are you? What is your name?”
“I am Viśākhā,” she replied.
“Whose daughter are you?”
“His who works in wood for all the village.”
Then thought Mahaushadha, “Her form is fair, but I will now test her intelligence a little.”
He went into a wheat-field, lifted up his hands, and while he flourished his hands on high, he trampled on the wheat with his feet. Then said Viśākhā, “O Pundit, as you have flourished your hands on high, so also ought you to flourish on high your feet.”