A certain King said to his Chief Minister, “Find me a man who can measure the world and show me the centre of it, and who can count me the number of the stars.”
The Minister considered the matter carefully, but could think of no way of complying with the King’s orders. At last his wife said, “I can see that something is troubling you. Tell me what it is; perhaps I can assist you.” Then he told her the orders of the King, and that he did not know where to look for any one who could do what the King desired. “Go,” she said, “to the coffee-dealer’s shop. You will find there a man who is always taking hashish. He may be able to help you” [his mental powers being exalted by the drug].
So he went to the coffee-dealer’s, and told the hashish-eater his difficulty. “I can soon solve these questions for you,” replied the hashish-eater. “Take me to the King.”
Thereupon they proceeded to the palace, and the Minister introduced the hashish-eater to the King. He came with a donkey, which was drawing a great load of rope.
“First show me the centre of the world,” said the King.
“This place is the centre,” said the hashish-eater. “If you doubt it, send your men to drag the other end of this rope up to the sky, and I will prove to you that you are just in the middle.”
“Very well,” said the King, “that is a satisfactory answer. Now give me the number of the stars.”
“Let your people count the hairs on my donkey. You will find that they are exactly equal to the stars in number,” said the man. The King admitted that he could not prove that he was answered incorrectly.
The English version is given in the ballad termed “King John and the Abbot of Canterbury,” and is found in Bishop Percy’s Reliques of Ancient English Poetry (ed. 1844, ii, 328). I give some extracts, etc., for the benefit of readers in Ceylon, because of its resemblance to the second Sinhalese story.