The night was now over: darkness, the harbourer of vice, fled away;
the day dawned. King Alakesa left his bedchamber, bathed and made his
religious ablutions, and, after breakfasting, summoned a council of all
his father's old ministers and advisers. Alakesa took his seat in the
midst of the assembly; anger was clearly visible in his countenance;
his eyes had lost their natural expression and had turned very red;
his breath was as hot as that of a furnace. He thus addressed them:--
"Know ye all, the ministers of my father and of myself, that last
night, during the first watch, my First Minister, Bodhaditya, while
I and my queen were asleep in our chamber, came and touched with his
finger the bosom of my queen. Consider well the gravity of this crime,
and express your opinions as to what punishment he merits."
Thus spake king Alakesa, but all the ministers, not knowing what answer
to return, hung down their heads in silence. Among those present was
an aged minister named Manuniti, who called Bodhaditya to his side
and privately learned the whole story. He then humbly bowed before
the king, and thus spake:--
"Most noble king, men are not always all-wise, and, before replying to
your Majesty's question, I beg permission to relate in your presence
the story of a king in whose reign a certain benevolent action was
repaid with disgrace and ignominy:--