On the banks of the Ganges, which also flows by the most holy city
of Banaras, there is a town named Mithila, where dwelt a very poor
Brahman called Vidyadhara. He had no children, and to compensate
for this want, he and his wife tenderly nourished in their house a
mungoose--a species of weasel. It was their all in all--their younger
son, their elder daughter--their elder son, their younger daughter,
so fondly did they regard that little creature. The god Visvesvara
and his spouse Visalakshi observed this, and had pity for the unhappy
pair; so by their divine power they blessed them with a son. This
most welcome addition to their family did not alienate the affections
of the Brahman and his wife from the mungoose; on the contrary,
their attachment increased, for they believed that it was because of
their having adopted the pet that a son had been born to them. So the
child and the mungoose were brought up together, as twin brothers,
in the same cradle.
It happened one day when the Brahman had gone out to beg alms of the
pious and charitable, that his wife went into the garden to cull some
pot-herbs, leaving the child asleep in his cradle, and by his side
the mungoose kept guard. An old serpent, which was living in the
well in the garden, crept into the house and under the cradle, and
was beginning to climb into it to bite the child when the mungoose
fiercely attacked it and tore it into several pieces, thus saving
the life of the Brahman's little son, and the venomous snake, that
came to slay, itself lay dead beneath the cradle.
Pleased at having performed such an exploit, the mungoose ran into
the garden to show the Brahman's wife its blood-smeared mouth, but
she rashly mistook the deliverer of her child for his destroyer,
and with one stroke of the knife in her hand with which she was
cutting herbs she killed the faithful creature, and then hastened
into the house to see her dead son. But there she found the child
in his cradle alive and well, only crying at the absence of his
little companion, the mungoose, and under the cradle lay the great
serpent cut to pieces. The real state of affairs was now evident,
and the Brahman presently returning home, his wife told him of her
rash act and then put an end to her life. The Brahman, in his turn,
disconsolate at the death of the mungoose and his wife, first slew
his child and then killed himself.
"And thus," added the Third Minister, "by one rash act four creatures
perished, so true is it that precipitation results in a series of
calamities. Do not, then, condemn Bodhaditya before his guilt is
clearly proved." Alakesa, having given Bodhachandra the signal to
retire, he quitted the presence and went home.
When the watch of the Fourth Minister, Bodhavibhishana, was terminated,
he visited the private apartments of the king (who had been meanwhile
pondering over the stories he had heard), and was called into
the sleeping chamber by Alakesa, and informed of his colleague's
unpardonable offence. The Minister, after due prostration, thus
addressed his royal master:--
"Great king, I can scarcely bring myself to believe that Bodhaditya
could ever be guilty of such a crime, and I would respectfully remind
your Majesty that it would not be consistent with your world-wide
reputation for wisdom and justice were you to pronounce judgment in
this case without having inquired into all the circumstances. Evil
and injustice result from hasty decisions and actions, of which a
striking illustration is furnished in the