विक्रम चरित (उज्जैन सम्राट् विक्रमादित्य - पराक्रम, न्याय एवं ३२ पुतलियों की कथा सटीक)

235 He had scarcely done so when he found himself trans- ported thither. “Chitrangee anxiously counted the hours that would be required for Charoo to travel from Ramashwer to Badrika- dar, and from thence to Himonchul. She was contem- plating the dreadful hardships and privations he would have to encounter on the way, when he was suddenly seen to advance towards her dwelling. She rose with much joy, and advanced to meet him: they embraced each other with much affection, and then retired to the privacy of their room, where, in the mutual exchange of those kind offices which true love dictates, they spent many hours. Chitrangee asked Charoo how he had contrived to return so soon, and how he had managed to release her. Charoo satisfied her on these points by recounting his adventures, and he then produced the jewels presented tohim by the chief of the fishes. “They lived again happily together for three months, without anything occurring to disturb their tranquillity. About this time Charoo felt himself impelled by some invisible agency to play on the bherry again. He went up to that part of the palace where it was placed, in company with his wife, and spent some time in admiring the wealth and grandeur with which they were surrounded. He fully appreciated his happy condition, and considered himself the most fortunate of created beings, for he was in the full enjoy- ment of every celestial blessing. ‘How kindly has God allotted to us this wonderful residence!’ said he; ‘men in the world in vain strive by strict morality and untainted virtue to attain to anything like this: it is denied to the best of them. It is only to be attained at the end of their earthly career!’ He was so pleased with himself and with everything in and around the place, that in the exuberance of his delight he approached the bherry and signed to Chitrangee that he would like to play upon it. She smiled, but did not oppose him, in consideration of the obligations she was under to him. Charoo therefore took the sticks and began to play loudly.

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“Indra was amazed to hear the unusual violence with which the bherry was being sounded, and he at once directed one of his attendants to invite Chitrangee to the court. The messenger immediately carried the order to her, and she desired him to wait awhile, that she might prepare for the visit. She adorned herself, but in a dejected mood, for she dreaded the result, not knowing how to escape Indra's wrath in case she should incur it. She desired Charoo to permit her to go alone, but he said, ‘No, I will not allow you to go unless I accompany you in my present shape, as I am resolved to assist you in your music and singing on this occasion. I shall disguise myself as your Moordoongy.* I know how to play; in fact I excel in it.’ So earnest was Charoo in his request, that Chitrangee could not refuse him, so she repaired to Indra’s subha with Charoo. She prostrated herself as usual before Indra, and then took up her position as on the former occasions. Shortly after she was called upon to commence her singing and dancing. She prepared to obey, by putting all her instruments in order; she then began to sing the victories of Indra and of his divine angels and demi-gods, in such a manner that their souls were enraptured, recalling as it did their triumphs over the Dyetas.† They applauded her very much, and seemed altogether under the influence of her magical performance. Chitrangee then changed her mode of singing. She took the vena, an instrument in which she excelled, and played upon it with such exquisite sweetness, as an accompaniment to her singing, that she completely astounded her audience. The melody of the music and the almost imperceptible modulations of her voice—by turns rising to the highest pitch and then sinking into the most delightful softness—were truly astonishing. To this was added the sparkle of her brilliant eyes, which spoke in language more expressive than either her voice or the instrument on which she executed the entrancing love song.

• A player upon the oblong drum. † The Titans, or giants of Hindu mythology.

237 “ Indra was so captivated by her performance that he seemed to devour her with his eyes. ‘Never before,’ he exclaimed, ‘have I been so completely overcome by the charms of a woman, nor have I ever heard such heart-thril- ling sounds or eloquent language. With what feeling does she pourtray the soft sentiment of love!’ Chitrangee was assisted in her performance by Charoo, and it was no doubt the presence of her husband and lover which enabled her to display such an unusual flow of feeling and eloquence. Whatever may have been the cause, certain it is that she acquitted herself in a manner beyond all precedent, and, as has been already said, elicited the encomiums of all the celestial beings there assembled. Each and all of them paid her much attention, and extolled her skill and ability, as well as her personal beauty and attractions. Indra was so much delighted that he took a necklace of pearls from his own neck, and presented it to her before she had fairly concluded her captivating song. Chitrangee received it with much respect, and immediately placed it round Charoo’s neck. Indra, observing this, asked her who he was, when she modestly replied, ‘Most gracious sovereign! he is the husband who was destined for me in the world below, and I married him when I was a princess, according to your majesty’s first sentence on me. He came in search of me to Chitrakoot, after I had re-assumed my celestial frame; and he it was, to my great good fortune, who rescued me on the three different occasions I incurred your majesty’s displeasure and fell under your curse. He had to suffer great toil and fatigue on my account. Indeed, my lord,’ added she, ‘he was the sole happy instrument of my protection.’ ‘Oh, celestial beauty! I am exceedingly delighted to hear this account of your beloved,’ replied Indra; ‘as he has so completely devoted himself to you, he is worthy of my warmest regard and esteem. Let him ask of me whatever he pleases, I will bestow it upon him with great pleasure and satisfaction.’ Charoo, hearing all this, came forward and prostrated himself before Indra,

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saying, ‘Most gracious and generous Suraishwer!—as you have expressed yourself pleased with my conduct, your majesty will please place your hand on my head, and I will ask you for a token of your royal favour.’ Indra accordingly placed his hand on Charoo’s head, when the latter spoke as follows :—‘My lord! you will be graciously pleased to dispense in future with the attendance of my wife Chitrangee at your royal subha, when the bherry may happen to be sounded at her mansion; and should your majesty desire her to sing and dance before you, you will graciously be pleased to overlook any slight imperfection or omission.’ ‘I willingly grant you this favour,’ said Indra; ‘but this is only a poor return for all you have done and suffered for her: ask for something more worthy of you.’ ‘My bountiful lord! there is nothing that I can at this moment wish for. I have more than I can well enjoy, your gene- rosity to my wife having placed at my disposal the means of living in continued bliss.’ Indra then bestowed his blessing on Charoo, and the subha adjourned. Shortly after, Charoo and Chitrangee entreated permission to leave, which being granted, they returned to Chitrakoot in great joy, where they lived in uninterrupted happiness. “One day, being seated together, conversing on different topics, Chitrangee addressed Charoo thus:—‘My dear love, I entreat you to let me know what relatives you have, what your profession was, where your birth-place is, and whether you are royally descended.’ Charoo informed her of his birth, parentage, and profession, and the reason why he had left his brothers. When he approached the conclud- ing part of his narrative, and thought of his wife and her trinkets, he felt a qualm of conscience, and was for a time silent. He was much affected by the reminiscences that had been called up by his speaking of the past. He had not once thought of his former wife since the eventful day on which he parted from her, so wholly engrossed had his mind been with the lovely Chitrangee and the incidents attendant upon his marriage with her. ‘My dear Charoo!

—my beloved husband !' said Chitrangee, ' I pray you not to dissemble or hide the least circumstance from me. What is it that grieves you so much?—tell me, I beseech you ! I cannot divine your thoughts, but should you have a wife, I shall be glad to receive her here, and let her reside with us and partake of our glorious state ! Be assured of this— I will treat her as if she were my own sister !' She pressed him very much to let her know the cause of his apparent concern, and at length he revealed to her all the particulars regarding his wife, who, he said, received no support from his family, but relied entirely on him, and whom he had so cruelly neglected. This, he said, was the cause of his feel- ing so great a concern. ' When I was cast off by my brothers, who would not pay my debt,' continued Charoo, ' my wife preserved my character by giving me her jewels, which enabled me to discharge it. On parting from her I pledged my word never to forget her. Alas! how have I requited her self-denying love for me! Not one single thought have I bestowed on her since I left home, so completely have I been occupied in devising means for your restoration from the several perilous positions into which you have successively, and at very short intervals, fallen.' Chitrangee was affected at the relation, and replied, ' I hope, my dear husband, that you will not hesitate, after what I have said, to bring your wife here without further delay. Let me assure you once more that I will treat her as my own sister. I will even consent to live here subject to her !' Charoo was much touched with the very affectionate and disinterested manner in which Chitrangee spoke on the subject, and he promised that he would go and fetch his wife on the morrow. " Next morning, Chitrangee again entreated Charoo to set off for his wife, and presented him with a pair of curious padooka* which she possessed. Charoo put them on his feet, took the three jewels which had been presented to him

• Clogs.

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by the chief of the fishes, and, after tenderly embracing Chitrangee, departed. Some time elapsed ere he could recollect the exact spot where his former wife resided ; but at length, having uttered some mysterious words, he was instantly transported thither. When he entered the town, the people of his acquaintance instantly recognised him, and before he reached his dwelling some of them had conveyed the intelligence to his brothers, who hastened thither to receive him. As soon as he appeared they advanced, and met him with kind embraces, enquiring the cause of his long absence. Charoo immediately detailed the whole of his adventures, and the magnificence in which he lived at Chitrakoot, concluding by saying that if they wished it he would convey them all to that place. But Charoo's tale only elicited a smile of incredulity ; for they thought he was affected in his mind, and therefore did not believe a word of what he said. ' You have not yet, we see,' said they, ' got rid of your old habits and exaggerating propensities. We feel no inclination, we can assure you, to taste of the enjoyments you speak of. We are quite content to remain here in the same station as our fore- fathers, where we can enjoy the society of sages and men of learning.' On this, Charoo again addressed them, saying, ' You despise me, or affect to do so, because in your arro- gant envy you will not concede to me what is denied to you. I am nevertheless desirous of being just to you. What I say is the truth, and though you may now seem indifferent to my proposal, a time will come when you will wish that you had not slighted my advice,—when age and infirmities overtake you, and when your existence in this world draws to a close. I lost my fortune in gaming, it is true, and you abused and reviled me, and even turned me out of doors, instead of trying to remedy the evil ; but I will deal more handsomely by you, and will let my acts prove to you that I can never harbour a covetous or niggardly spirit, —still less a revengeful feeling for the injury I received at your hands.' Saying this, he went into a private chamber,

241 and, after revering the jewel, produced immense treasure in gold, jewels, and precious stones of various descrip- tions. These he brought out and presented to his brothers, saying, ‘I pray you, take these riches, and do not any longer give way to avarice.’ He then left them in their amazement, and entered his wife’s apartment. When she saw who it was that was approaching, she hastened up to him, falling at his feet, and afterwards embraced him with tears of joy. It would be impossible to pourtray the excess of their pleasure at this meeting; suffice it to say that a long period was spent in the mutual expression of all that two fond hearts could give utterance to; after which Charoo recounted the whole of his adventures to his wife, and acquainted her with the felicity he had been enjoying at Chitrakoot. He asked her if she would accompany him, or whether she felt disposed to ridicule him by disbelieving his tale, as his brothers had done. She replied, ‘I pray you, do with me as may seem best to you. By your arrival this day I have been especially favored by the kind Provi- dence who watches over us all. It has been my constant practice, since you left me, to supplicate heaven to bestow its kind aid in restoring you to me, and my prayer has at last been heard! Though I have grieved much for your ab- sence, still I am amply repaid for all I have endured on your account, by once more seeing you in health and prosperity.’ Many such expressions of affection did she lavish on Charoo; and at length, the sun having sunk beneath the horizon, they partook of their evening meal together, after which they retired for the night. “Next morning Charoo paid a visit to his brothers, and having told them they might rely upon what he had said the previous day, he again invited them to share with him the enjoyments of a celestial existence at Chitrakoot. They told him in reply that they felt no inclination or desire for such grandeur, and that they would rather remain where they were than run the risk of losing what they already possessed. After this interview with his brothers, Charoo FF

242 returned to his wife, and taking her on his shoulder, with the jewel in his hand and the padooka on his feet, he bade adieu to all. They mounted into the air with such incre- dible swiftness that Charoo's brothers and the other persons who were there assembled were completely amazed, and in a short time they lost sight of them altogether. Perceiving the apparent miracle by which Charoo had made his ascent, his brothers deeply regretted having refused to accompany him, especially when to his wonderful ascent was added the proof of his wealth, of which he had left abundance behind him. ‘We have lost our brother for ever from this day!’ they exclaimed; ‘we are not yet rid of the sin of avarice, which is our besetting evil; how then can we be deemed worthy of the immortal happiness which our brother is now in the enjoyment of? We thought in our blindness that all he said was false,—we have now the truth of it proved to us, by the miraculous ascent he has made, and by the riches he has left behind. How unfortunate are we to have lost eternal bliss through our own short-sighted obstinacy!’ They both regretted deeply having refused the generous offer of their brother; and their neighbours having heard of the occurrence, greatly censured them for their folly and presumptuous ignorance. “In a short time Charoo reached the Chitrakoot moun- tain, and presented himself before his beloved Chitrangee. She received him with her usual expressions of tender affection, and was equally lavish of her tokens of love to her sister, as she insisted on terming Charoo’s first wife; in fact they became in a few hours the best of friends. Chitrangee took her into a dressing-room, and having placed her before a glass for the first time in her life, adorned her head, neck, arms, and breast with the finest pearls and diamonds she possessed; she then arrayed her in a suit of the richest material, embroidered with gold. The ornaments and fine clothes caused her to look so well, and set off her shape and figure to such advantage, that when Charoo saw her he was highly delighted, and felt grateful

to Chitrangee for her attention. All three now seated themselves together, and Chitrangee asked Charoo to relate the circumstances attending his visit to his family and friends. He told her how he had invited his brothers to accompany him, and of their obstinate refusal to comply with his wishes ; how they still bore towards him, under the guise of friendship, the most inveterate hatred ; and every other particular worth relating. “ The two sisters lived together in mutual harmony, friendship, and affection : their days rolled on in peaceful calmness, like the waters of a flowing stream. They were contented and happy, and shared equally the affection of their husband Charoo.” The Rajhouse, having brought his tale to a conclusion, said to the brahmin, “ I have had the honor of recounting to you and to her highness the loves of the celestial Chitrangee and the amiable Charoo. I will now take my leave.” Saying this, he disappeared amidst the other birds repre- sented on the wall of the princess’ apartment. The disguised brahmin now entreated the Princess Pudmavuntty to fulfil her promise of marrying Prince Duntsain, having on his own part accomplished the task she had imposed upon him. The princess joyfully informed the brahmin that she could have no objection at all now to ally herself with the prince, and she desired that he might be brought in directly. Prince Duntsain was accordingly introduced, and the celebration of the nuptials was delayed no longer than was necessary to render it grand and complete. The brahmin soon after this took leave of Prince Dunt- sain and the Princess Pudmavuntty, who acknowledged in suitable terms the deep obligations they were under to him, and for which they professed their inability to express their gratitude. They extolled his wisdom and power, in proof of which they adduced the miracle that had taken place in the room of the princess, where inanimate birds had succes- sively appeared alive, and had recounted different tales, a

244 wonder which in itself was sufficient to secure for him everlasting renown. Prince Duntsain accompanied the brahmin to the mouth of the ravine in which the Princess Pudmavuntty's palace was situated, and at parting prostrated himself at his feet, renewing his thanks, and prayers for the success of the friend who had done so much for him, and had snatched him, as it were, from the very jaws of death. The brah- min in return bestowed his blessing on the prince, and wished him a long, happy, and prosperous life, and the love and fidelity of his subjects when he ascended the throne. Here they parted, the brahmin to resume his journey with his friend Somedut, who was at present in the form of a parrot, and perched on his shoulder, and the prince to return to the splendid mansion of the beauteous Pudmavuntty.

245 CHAPTER XVI. Vickramadetea re-assumes the form of a parrot, and the brahmin that of a human being—The brahmin sells the parrot to the king of Wish- noopoory, and returns to Oojein—The parrot decides an important cause between a Zotinge or goblin and a brahmin's son. KING VICKRAMADETEA and the brahmin Somedut now re-assumed their former conditions, the latter taking his own form and the king that of a parrot. Somedut was soon in- formed of all that had occurred to the king in the palace of the Princess Pudmavuntty, and of the successful termination of Prince Duntsain's love affair. Somedut listened to the particulars with the greatest wonder and admiration, espe- cially as regarded the tales which Veytal had related in the character of four different birds, which he had assumed for the occasion,—namely, that of the parrot, the Shaloonky, the peacock, and the Rajhouse,—and the wonderful and incredible prodigies of which they treated. Vickramadetea then requested the brahmin to do one thing more for him. He said there was not far off a city called Wishnoopoory, governed by a king named Gopichund. "He is, I have heard," continued he, "endowed with many excellent virtues; I wish you, therefore, to take me there, and to sell me to him. Be satisfied with whatever price he may offer you, and you will then be at liberty to spend the remainder of your days in ease until I return to my king- dom. Acquaint also my minister with the whole of my adventures, so far as you know them, but be careful to keep the matter a profound secret from every one else, until I can recover my own body, which the traitor Koobjuck at present possesses." The brahmin was extremely sorry to hear Vickramadetea's wish to be sold, and said it went very much against his inclination and his love for his sovereign to do so. He begged Vickramadetea with great earnestness

246 not to impose upon him so painful a task, and added, “I have travelled far and long to find you, and having so far attained my wish do not deprive me of your presence, and thus place me in uncertainty as to your fate, and the vicis- situdes attendant thereon. You cannot imagine the grief I shall experience on your account, or you would not be so cruel. Remain with me, and I may perhaps be of service to you, in enabling you to repossess yourself of your own body. I have not the least doubt that my family will be provided for during my absence.” The king replied, “You have, my dear Somedut, by what you have already done, fully established in my mind a firm belief of your integrity and honesty of purpose, and of the great love you bear for me; nothing more is wanted. It is, however, indispensably necessary that you should do what I now desire, otherwise I shall never regain my own body and my kingdom. King Gopichund is a very eminent and learned monarch; if you will sell me to him I shall cause him to offer up a certain sacrifice, by which I hope to attain my end. Moreover, I wish you and my minister to appear at Gopichund’s court this day three months, in the guise of mendicants, and at the last oblation of the sacrifice you must demand me of him. He cannot decline giving me up to you or to any other person, as the sacrifice would in that case become useless. I trust, therefore, you will see the necessity of doing as I desire you; and be sure that you and my minis- ter do not fail to be present at the time I have now appointed.” The brahmin, finding he had no alternative, at length consented, but with the greatest reluctance, and proceeded accordingly towards the city where king Gopichund lived. He carried the parrot on his hand, and in this way went from street to street throughout the town, and it so happened that he met Gopichund himself, with his retinue, returning from an airing. Gopichund, seeing the bird perched on Somedut’s hand, was struck with the beauty of its plumage, and asked him if it was for sale, and what he would take for it. The brahmin replied that the parrot was

247 valued at no less a sum than one hundred and twenty-five thousand rupees. The king said it was too much by far to ask for so small a bird, and that he could not comprehend the meaning of pricing it so enormously high, unless indeed it was possessed of some great and rare qualities. The parrot hereupon said to the king, “Do not doubt my wis- dom ;—buy me of the brahmin, and pay him what he asks. Then demand of me anything you would wish to know, and I will answer you.” The parrot’s language pleased Gopi- chund so much that he instantly ordered the money to be paid down, and took immediate possession of the intelligent bird. The brahmin, as soon as he had received his money, took leave of the parrot in the most affectionate manner, and departed for Oojein, to communicate his news to the minister. Having reached the city he went straight to his residence, and entered at once into a recital of Vickrama- detea’s adventures, concluding by informing him of his present form and location. The minister was exceedingly glad to hear that the search after his master had proved success- ful, and sincerely grieved to think of all he had suffered and was likely to suffer. He thanked Somedut for his exertions, and requested him not to divulge the circumstance of the king’s being found to any one, nor to allow a single person to suspect that he possessed so much money, lest some misfortune should befal him. He begged him above all things to be punctual in joining him at a time and place which they appointed. Somedut then took his leave, and went to his own home, where his family received him with great joy. King Gopichund kept the parrot in a magnificent cage, richly studded with diamonds and other precious stones, and took great pleasure in listening to the amusing tales which from time to time it recounted for the monarch’s amusement. Gopichund’s subjects were happy, contented, and religi- ously inclined ; they were peaceful among themselves, and

were in the constant practice of resorting to their temples and offering up their prayers to God; they were never known to lie, at least the great body of them, even for their own gain or aggrandisement. There was in this city a brahmin named Crustna Josey, who had an only son named Moodgul, a well-behaved and well-educated youth. One day this young man requested his father's permission to go on a pilgrimage to Kashee,* as he was very anxious to pay his vows at that holy place, and the caravan was also just about to set out. His father, however, objected to his going, as his grandson's moonje† was shortly to take place, and he wished him to be present on the occasion; so he told him not to think of going with the caravan then preparing to start, but to postpone it to some future time. The son, having previously made up his mind to proceed with the caravan, could ill brook this, as he thought, unnecessary opposition, so he went and joined the company who were to proceed to Kashee by that opportu- nity. There was a certain Borre‡ tree behind this brah- min's house, in which dwelt a Zotinge,|| who had the power of taking upon himself the shape or form of any other individual, just as it suited his interest or whim. Knowing, therefore, that Moodgul had joined the caravan against his father's expressed wish, the Zotinge determined to person- ate him during his absence. He accordingly assumed the form of Moodgul, and repaired to the brahmin's house, who was overjoyed at seeing his son, and asked him why he had returned. The Zotinge replied that he had found no good omen for starting; that he had absented himself simply to see how his father would bear it, and having heard that he was angry, he had returned. The Zotinge lived with the

• A celebrated city and place of pilgrimage in Benares. † The ceremony of investing the young brahmin with the sacri- ficial thread. ‡ The Jujuba tree, or Zyzyphus Jujuba. || The spirit of a deceased person, wandering as a goblin.

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brahmin and his family for a long time, without being in the least suspected, as he conducted himself exactly as Moodgul used to do, at the same time sharing Moodgul's wife's bed. The time appointed for the ceremony of investing the young brahmin with the sacred thread was now fast approach- ing, so the necessary preparations were made, a beautiful temporary arbour was erected, and the false Moodgul accompanied Crustna Josey into the country to invite their friends and relatives to attend the ceremony. The real Moodgul, having within three months' time performed his pilgrimage, returned with the caravan to the city, and repaired at once to his father's house. He was delighted to see the preparations going on, and that he was still in time to take part in the ceremony and join in the festivities. He proceeded directly to his mother's apartment, and, pros- trating himself before her, begged her forgiveness and blessing. Seeing that her son had not been long away from her, in which case alone such a practice was followed, she could not understand it: he had only gone a short distance with his father, as she thought, to invite their friends; she therefore asked him to explain what he meant by asking her forgiveness and blessing in this unusual manner. He told her where he had been, but this only perplexed her the more. She said that she had but one son, and he had been with them all along, and had only gone that morning with his father into the country. Moodgul did not know what to make of this, but thought that perhaps his wife would know him better. She happened to come in at this very time, and he said to her, "Well, my dear wife, you at least will know me: am I not your hus- band?" She had, as she thought, only that morning parted from her husband, and it was not surprising, there- fore, that she should have replied angrily, taking him for an impostor, "What villain art thou?—whence dost thou come? Art thou not ashamed of thy baseness in trying thus to impose on me by calling me thy wife,—I who never GG

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before saw thee? Thou art doubtless some vile deceiver from Benares. Leave this house instantly, or thou wilt meet with the treatment thou seemest so richly to deserve!" At this time Moodgul's young son, who was about to be invested with the sacred thread, entered the room. "My son," said the unhappy father, "do you too shun me? Am I not your father?" The child, as much or even more deceived, from his extreme youth, than his elders, replied, "What a base chattering knave thou art! Dost thou dare to address thy- self thus to those who know thee not? Who art thou? Get thee hence instantly, or I will cause thee to be punished severely for thy impudence!" Poor Moodgul tried all he could to convince them of his identity, by mentioning the names of each and all of their relatives, friends, and acquain- tances, and by recalling many little family incidents, but all to no purpose. His mother, wife, and son, were certainly surprised at the accuracy of his statements, but this was not sufficient to dispel the error into which they had fallen, and which had taken so deep a hold of their minds. By this time Moodgul's father had returned, and with him the counterfeit son. The real Moodgul, on seeing his father, went forward, and with a low reverence besought his blessing. The father was very much astonished at his salutation, and said, "Thou addressest me by the title of father!—I think thou art labouring under some grievous mistake. Thou art not my son! I have but one son, and here he is," pointing to the Zotinge. "I cannot but think that thy mind is unsettled; if not, thou art endeavoring to palm off some joke upon my family, but I would advise thee to desist from such practices and to go thy way." Moodgul, at the close of his father's speech, felt a sharp pang shoot through his heart, and he bitterly repented having left his paternal dwelling in opposition to his father's express desire. It was, however, useless now to regret the past, but he could not by any means think of an expedient to extricate himself from his present dilemma. At last he resolved upon going to King Gopichund, and representing

251 his case to him, who, he doubted not, would enable him to regain his position in his father's household. Before he left the house, the Zotinge went to Moodgul's mother, and said, " It is always the object of the impostors from Benares, good mother, to obtain something from those on whom they practise their deceptions ; give this fellow, therefore, some undressed rice." The mother was in high spirits and good humour in consequence of the approaching festivity, so she went immediately, at the desire of her son, and brought a small quantity of rice to the supposed cheat, who, however, resented the insult by spurning it away ; he then quitted the house and bent his steps towards the king's palace. When he arrived there, he represented to his majesty the actual state of affairs, with all necessary particulars, and demanded that justice should be done him. The king was greatly surprised at the representations made to him, and having sent for Crustna Josey, asked him what he meant by denying all knowledge of his son, after his return from the pilgrimage, even although the expedition had been undertaken contrary to his express commands, which did not in the least alter the case. " My lord," said Crustna Josey, "your majesty no doubt knows that I have but one son, and that son is now at home. The person now before your majesty I do not recollect having ever before seen, and I am at a loss to know on what ground he claims relation- ship with me. I beg your majesty will be pleased to send for my son, if you disbelieve my assertions." The king immediately ordered the son to be brought before him, and when he arrived the king observed such an exact resemblance between the two, in their make, features, complexion, size, and everything else, that he and the whole court were greatly embarrassed, and could not arrive at a satisfactory or conclusive opinion on the matter. In this strait the king bethought him of his clever parrot, who, he said, might possibly be able to solve the mystery. The parrot was accordingly brought into court and the case having been laid before him, he replied, after some time

252 spent in contemplation, "My lord, it is not for me to decide a case of so much importance. I pray you, take it into your own hands, or place it in those of your learned coun- cillors, who are so eminently conversant with the manner of judging such matters." But the king said he was deter- mined that the parrot should decide the case. The parrot then asked Crustna Josey which was his son, and he pointed to the Zotinge. The same question was put to the rest of Crustna's family, and they each and all indicated the same individual. The parrot next questioned the Zotinge on different points, but he met them all in a satisfactory manner, so that, except to the parrot, the case seemed to be as far from being settled as ever. The parrot, however, was at no loss to discover the cheat. He ordered a zauree* to be brought, which being done, he said, "If you both desire justice to be impartially administered, you will consent to the test I now prescribe. The real son alone will be able to enter into the zauree, and make his exit by the spout. The one who fails to do so is undoubtedly the cheat." The parrot addressed himself first to the real Moodgul, who said, "Is it possible for any human being to enter into so small a vessel?—it cannot be done by mortal means." The false Moodgul on this came forward, and said to the king, "O king, I am able to enter the zauree and to come out through the spout." "Are you?" said the parrot; "then hasten and do it." The Zotinge at once performed the feat, to the great astonishment of all. The parrot then called Crustna Josey, and asked him if he could now identify his son. The brahmin, greatly perplexed, said he could not be certain. The parrot enquired of him if he had not a Borre tree on his premises, that was occupied by a demon spirit. The brahmin replied that there was such a tree, on which a Zotinge had dwelt, but that he had not seen anything of him for the last three months. The parrot then said to the king, "May it please

• A particular drinking-vessel, with a spout and a long neck.

253 your majesty, did you ever see or hear of any mortal man being able to do what this vile impostor has this day done— enter a small pot and come out through its neck? Does your majesty not see who is the real son of the brahmin? I beg your majesty will immediately order the tree on the brahmin’s premises to be cut down.” This was done, and the Zotinge disappeared for ever. The king was much pleased with the parrot’s judgment, and praised him loudly for his wisdom and ingenuity. The venerable brahmin and his wife received their son with tears of joy, and the wife and son of Moodgul hung down their heads with shame for having so grossly abused him. His father then approached, and tenderly embraced him, saying, “My dear son, we are fully aware of the indignity and cruel treatment which we in our ignorance have inflicted on you, but I trust you will forgive us, and return home to your paternal roof.” Moodgul replied, in much anger, “I will not go home with you. I renounce the whole of you! —henceforth you shall be to me as my bitterest enemies!” The brahmin entreated him with much earnestness and contrition, but Moodgul was deplorably obstinate, and would not hearken to the voice of his aged sire. The parrot, finding the youth bent upon not being reconciled to his friends and connections, interceded on their behalf, saying that they had been altogether ignorant of the imposition that was practised upon them by the Zotinge, and desiring him to bear them no ill-will for what they had been unin- tentionally guilty of, and therefore, in fact, not guilty of at all. “Nothing,” continued the parrot, “is more noble, more generous, or more pleasurable than to forgive even real injuries done to us: how much more necessary, then, does it become for every man of virtue and magnanimity to forgive injuries which, though productive of the same effect to the person on whom they have been inflicted, are still divested of much of their evil qualities from the circumstance of their being unintentional? It is your duty, therefore, to forget and forgive every offence or injury you

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may have received from your erring and mistaken relatives.” Being thus persuaded by the parrot, Moodgul consented to return to his father’s house with his family. It afforded the brahmin, Crustna Josey, no small amount of pleasure to fold once more in his arms, in his own house, his only son, whom he dearly loved. He even went the length of soliciting his son’s pardon for what he had done against him, and so did the rest of them. “O my son!” said the father, “I cannot imagine what charm the Zotinge could have put upon me and my family! I repent most sincerely of my conduct towards you, and I trust you will, when you consider the circumstances under which we were placed, extend to us your forgiveness.” He continued in this strain for a considerable time, and adduced instances where such impositions had been successfully practised, until at length his son’s heart was softened. “O most revered father!” said Moodgul, “I am now fully sensible of the nature of the occurrence, and I feel how wrong I have been in my expressions of anger against you and the rest of those near and dear to me. I can see now how matters stood, and am not at all surprised that you should have acted in the manner you did. I have no reason to complain of you. Pardon me, I entreat you!” They were thus once more united in the bonds of affection, and the brahmin, embracing his son, shed tears of joy. The ceremony of investing Moodgul’s son with the sacred thread was cele- brated with great pomp and joy, and they continued to live in peace and good fellowship during the remainder of their lives.