“‘There is a city (called) Kanchanpur, where (dwelt) a merchant, named
Sãgardatt, whose son’s name was Shridatt. The name of another city
is Jayshripur, where there was a merchant, named Somadatt, and his
daughter’s name was Jayshri. She had married the son of that merchant,
and the son had gone to a certain country to trade. She used to live at
her parents’ house. In fine, when he had spent twelve years in trading,
and she arrived at woman’s estate here, she one day addressed a
companion of hers thus: ‘Sister! my youth is being wasted; up to this
moment I have tasted none of the world’s joys.’ On hearing these words,
her companion said to her, ‘Be of good cheer! God willing, thy husband
will soon come and join thee.’”
“‘She got vexed at these words, and ascending to the upper chamber, and
peeping through the lattice, saw a young man coming along. When he drew
near her, his eyes and hers suddenly met. The hearts of both went forth
to one another. Then she said to her companion, ‘Bring that man to
me.’ On hearing this, the companion went and said to him, ‘Somadatt’s
daughter wishes to see you in private; but do you come to my house.’ She
then put him on the track to her house. He said, ‘I will come at night.’
The companion came and informed the merchant’s daughter that he had
promised to come at night. When she heard this, Jayshri said to her
companion, ‘You go home; when he arrives, let me know, and I will also
come when free to leave home.’”
“‘On hearing her words, her companion went home, and seating herself at
the door, began watching for his coming. In the meantime he arrived.
She seated him in the doorway, saying, ‘You sit here; I will go and
give notice of your arrival.’ And she came to Jayshri and said, ‘Your
sweetheart has arrived.’ On hearing this she said, ‘Wait awhile; let the
household go to sleep, and then I will come.’ And so, after some delay,
when it was near midnight, and all had gone to sleep, then she arose
softly and accompanied her, and arrived there in a very short time; and
the two met in her house without restraint. When nearly an hour and a
half * of night remained, she rose and returned home, and went quietly
to sleep; and he also went to his house at daybreak.”
* Lit,--“Four gharis.” A ghari is equal to twenty-four
minutes; and hence the exact time would be six minutes more
than “an hour and a half.”
“‘Many days passed thus. At last her husband, too, returned from foreign
parts to his father-in-law’s house. When she beheld her husband she
became troubled in mind, and said to her companion, ‘Such is my anxiety,
what shall I do? whither shall I go? Sleep, hunger, thirst, all are
forgotten; nothing is agreeable to me (_lit_. neither hot nor cold
pleases me). And she told her the whole state of her heart. To be brief,
she got through the day somehow or other; but at night, when her husband
had finished supper, his mother-in-law had a bed made for him in a
separate building, and sent word to him to go and take repose, while she
said to her daughter, ‘You go and do your duty to your husband.’”
“‘She turned up her nose and knitted her brows on hearing this, and
remained silent. On this her mother rebuked her sharply, and sent her
off to him. Being powerless, she went there, but lay on the bed with
her face turned away. The more he kept addressing her in words of
tenderness, the more vexed would she become. On this he presented her
with all the various descriptions of apparel, and the jewels which he
had brought for her from different places, and said, ‘Wear these.’ Then,
in truth, she became still more vexed, and frowned and turned away her
face. And he, too, went to sleep in despair; for he was fatigued with
the journey. To her, however, thinking of her lover, sleep came not.”
“‘When she thought that he was in an unconscious sleep, she arose
softly, and leaving him asleep, went fearlessly in the dark night to
the abode of her lover; and a thief seeing her on the way, thought to
himself ‘Where can this woman be going, alone, with her jewels on, at
this midnight hour.’ Thus soliloquising, he followed her. In short,
she managed somehow to reach her lover’s house. Now, there, a snake had
bitten and left him; he was lying dead. She thought he was sleeping.
Being, as it was, consumed with the fire of separation, she clasped him
to her without restraint, and began caressing him; and the thief from a
distance was watching the fun.”
“‘An evil spirit, too, was seated on a pipal tree there, looking on at
the scene. All at once it came into his mind to enter his (dead) body
and have carnal intercourse with her. Having resolved on this, he
entered the body, and after having intercourse with her, bit off her
nose with his teeth, and went and sat on the same tree. The thief
observed all these occurrences. And she, in despair, went as she was,
all stained with blood, to her companion, and related all that had
happened. Whereupon her companion said, ‘Go quickly to thy husband ere
yet the sun rise, and, arrived there, weep aloud and bitterly. If any
one should question thee, say, ‘He has cut off my nose.’”
“‘She went thither on the instant of hearing her companion’s words,
and commenced weeping and wailing excessively. Hearing the noise of her
weeping, all her relations came, and lo! she had no nose,--was sitting
noseless! Then they exclaimed, ‘O you shameless, wicked, pitiless, mad
wretch! Why have you bitten off her nose without any fault on her part?’
He, too, became alarmed on witnessing this farce, and began to say to
himself, ‘Trust not a wanton-minded woman, a black snake, an armed man,
an enemy,--and fear the wiles of a woman. What can an eminent poet not
describe? What does he not know who has acquired supernatural power?
What absurd nonsense does a drunkard not chatter? What can a woman not
accomplish? True it is, that the defects of horses, the thunder of the
clouds, the wiles of woman, and the destiny of man,--these things even
the gods do not comprehend; what power has man, then (to understand
them)?’”
“‘In the meantime her father gave information of the occurrence to the
city magistrate. Policemen came from the station there, and bound and
brought him before the magistrate. The magistrate of the city gave
notice to the king. The king having sent for him, and questioned him
about the case, he declared he knew nothing. And on his summoning the
merchant’s daughter, and interrogating her, she replied, ‘Your majesty!
when you see plainly (what has happened), why do you question me?’ Then
the king said to him, ‘What punishment shall I inflict on thee?’ On
hearing this, he replied, ‘Do unto me whatever you deem just.’ The king
said, ‘Away with him, and impale him!’ On receiving the king’s order the
people took him away to impale him.”
“‘Observe the coincidence;--that thief was also standing there, looking
on at the scene. When he was convinced that this man was about to be
unjustly put to death, he raised a cry for justice. The king summoned
him, and asked, ‘Who art thou?’ He said, ‘Great king! I am a thief; and
this man is innocent; his blood is about to be unjustly shed; you have
not given judgment at all wisely.’ Hereupon the king summoned him (the
husband) also, and questioned the thief, saying, ‘Declare the truth
on thy honour! What are the facts of this case?’ The thief then gave a
detailed account of the circumstances; and the king, too, comprehended
them thoroughly. Ultimately he sent attendants, and had the woman’s nose
brought from the mouth of her lover, who was lying dead, and inspected
it. Then he was assured that the man was guiltless, and the thief
truthful. Hereupon the thief said, ‘To cherish the good, and punish
evil-doers, has from of old been a duty of kings.’”
“After relating so much of the tale, the parrot Chürãman said, ‘Great
king! such embodiments of all crime are women! The king having had the
woman’s face blackened and her head shaved, had her mounted on an ass,
and taken round the city, and then set at liberty; and after giving
betel-leaf to the thief and the merchant’s son, he allowed them to
depart.’”
Having related so much of the story, the sprite said, “O king! to which
of these two does the greater guilt attach?” Then King Bir Vikramãjit
said, “To the woman.” On this the sprite said, “How so?” On hearing
this, the king said, “However depraved a man may be, still some sense of
right and wrong remains in him; but a woman does not give a thought to
right and wrong; hence great guilt attached to the woman.” Hearing these
words, the sprite went again and hung himself on the same tree. The king
went again and took him down from the tree, tied him up in a bundle,
placed him on his shoulder, and carried him away.