In a certain town there reigned a king named Patnipriya, [81] to whose
court, a poor old Brahmin, named Papabhiru, [82] came every morning,
with a yellow lime in his hand, and presenting it to the king,
pronounced a benediction in Tamil:--
Nanmai vidaittal, nanmai vilaiyum:
Timai vidaittal, timai vijaiyum:
Nanmaiyum timaiyum pinvara kanalam.
"If good is sown, then good will grow:
If bad is sown, then bad will grow:
Thus good or bad the end will show."
The king respected as much the noble benediction of the Brahman as
he did his grey hairs.
In this way the presentation of the fruit continued daily, though
the Brahmin had nothing to request from the king, but simply wished
to pay his respects. On observing that he had no ulterior motives,
but was merely actuated by rajasevana, or duty to his king, the king's
admiration for his old morning visitor increased the more.
After presenting the fruit the Brahmin waited upon his sovereign till
his puja [83] was over, and then went home where his wife kept ready
for him all the requisites for his own puja. Papabhiru then partook
of what dinner his wife had prepared for him. Sometimes, however,
a Brahmin neighbour sent him an invitation to dinner, which he at
once accepted. For his father, before he breathed his last, had
called him to his bedside, and, pronouncing his last benediction,
had thus advised him in Tamil:--
Kalai sottai tallade,
Kannil Kandadai sollade,
Rajanukku payandu nada."
"Morning meal do thou never spurn,
Nor say thou what thine eyes discern,
But serve thy king for fame to earn."
Thus it was that Papabhiru began his visits to the king, nor did he
ever reject an invitation to dinner, though it might come at a very
inconvenient time.
Now on a certain ekadasi [84] morning, Papabhiru went to the king
to pay his respects as usual, with the lime and the benediction, but
found that he had gone to his puja and so followed him there. On seeing
the Brahmin, the king's face glowed with pleasure, and he said:--
"My most revered god on earth, [85] I thought that some ill must have
befallen you, when I missed you in the council-hall this morning;
but praised be Paramesvara for having sent you to me, though it is
a little late. I never do my puja without placing my scimitar by the
side of the god, but last night I left it in my queen's room. It is
under the pillow of the couch on which I usually sleep. Until you
came I could find no suitable person to fetch it for me, and so I have
waited for you. Would you kindly take the trouble to fetch it for me?"
The poor Brahmin was only too glad of the opportunity thus presented
to him of serving his king, and so he ran to the harem and into the
room where the king usually slept. The queen was a very wicked woman
and always having secret meetings with courtiers of her husband, so
when Papabhiru returned he surprised the queen and one of her lovers
walking in the garden, he went through, however, to the king's room,
and lifting up the king's pillow felt for the scimitar, and went
away. True however, to his father's words, "Nor say thou what thine
eyes discern," he never opened his lips and went his way with a
heavy heart.
The queen and her wicked suitor were greatly alarmed.
"That rogue of an old Brahmin has seen us and may report to the king
at the first opportunity," faltered the minister.
But the queen, as bold in words as in sin, said; "I will have him
murdered before the sun rises. Wait you here. I shall inform the king
of what is to be done and report the result to you, and then you may
go home."
So saying, she went and stood before her royal husband who was at
his worship. Patnipriya rose up and asked her the reason of her
sudden appearance.
Said she, "Your Majesty seems to think the whole world as innocent
as yourself. That wretched old Brahmin, though his hair is as white
as milk, has not forgotten his younger days, he asked me to run away
with him. If you do not order his death before to-morrow morning,
I shall kill myself."
The king was much vexed with what he heard, and all the regard he had
for the Brahmin disappeared at once. He called two of his executioners
and spoke to them thus before his wife:--
"Take to the east gate of the town a large iron caldron, and keep it
boiling to the brim with gingely oil. [86] A certain person shall
come to you in the morning and ask you, 'Is it all done?' Without
observing who he is, tie his hands and feet and throw him into the
boiling oil. When he has been boiled to death, put out the fire and
empty out the oil."
The executioners received the order and went away to perform
their terrible duty. The queen, too, glad at heart at having thus
successfully arranged for the murder of the Brahmin, reported the
fact to the minister, but said nothing about the special question to
be put by the victim. The minister, much pleased, went to his palace
and waited for news of the Brahmin's death.
When his puja was over the king sent for Papabhiru, and the poor
Brahmin, never having before been sent for at such a time, made his
appearance with a beating heart. When he arrived the king, in order
to arouse no suspicion in his mind, said gently to him:--
"My dear Brahmin, to-morrow morning, when you go to make your
ablutions, pass by the east gate. There you will see two persons
seated by the side of a large caldron. Ask them, 'Is it all done?' And
whatever reply they give you, come and communicate to me."
Thus spoke the king, firmly believing that Papabhiru would never
return to him; while the Brahmin, glad to be able to serve the king
a second time next morning, went home and slept soundly. Early in
the morning, even a ghatika before his usual time, he got up, and,
placing on his head a bag containing dry clothes, proceeded to the
river for his morning bath. He took the road to the eastern gate as
he had been ordered, but had not walked far when a friend invited
him to a dvadasi [87] breakfast.
"My poor old mother did not taste even a drop of water the whole of the
ekadasi, (yesterday). Rice and hot water for a bath are ready. Pour a
little of the water over your head, [88] pronounce one gayatri [89]
and taste a handful of rice. Whatever may be the urgency of your
business, oblige me for my poor mother's sake."
Thus spoke his friend, and Papabhiru, out of regard to his father's
order never to spurn a morning meal, ran in haste into his friend's
house to oblige him; the king's order all the while sitting heavily
on his mind.
Meanwhile the minister was most anxious to hear the news of the
Brahmin's death, but was afraid to send any one to inquire about it,
lest he should arouse suspicion. So he went himself to the east gate,
as soon as the sun had risen, and asked the executioners, sitting by
the side of the caldron, by way of a simple question: "Is the business
all done?" And as they were instructed not to observe who the person
was that came to question them, but to tie him up and boil him in the
oil, they, notwithstanding his howls, bound him and threw him in. As
soon as he was dead, they extinguished the fire, poured out the oil,
turned over the caldron, corpse and all.
The Brahmin finished his dvadasi breakfast, in great haste, and,
with the betel leaf still in his hand, ran to the gate to inquire of
the persons seated by the caldron whether it was all done. When he
put them the question, they smilingly replied:--
"Yes, Sir, it is all done. The minister is boiled to death. We gave
full execution to the king's orders. You may go and report the affair
to him."
The Brahmin, not knowing the reason for the course events had taken,
ran back and reported the reply of the executioners to the king. The
minister's interference in the affair at once kindled suspicion in the
king's mind. He unsheathed his scimitar, and holding it in his right
hand, twisted the lock of hair on the Brahmin's head into his left. He
then asked him whether he had not tried to get his wife away from him
the previous morning, and told him that, if he concealed the truth,
he would make an end of him. The poor Brahmin now confessed what he
had seen, on which the king threw down the scimitar and fell down on
his knees before him.
"The words of thy benediction, O respected Brahmin, have only
now been explained to me. Thou hast sown nothing but good; and
good in having thy life preserved, hast thou reaped. The wicked
minister--whose conscious guilt made him so very anxious to hear
about thy death--because he sowed a bad intention in his heart has
reaped evil, even a death that he never expected. Another victim of
evil sowing, remains in my queen, in whom I placed an undeserved love."
So said he, and ordered her to the gallows. The old Brahmin he
appointed his minister and reigned for a long time.