The Betrayer Betrayed

Once upon a time in the reign of Brahmadatta, king
of Benares, the Bodhisatta was re-born as Sakka. At that
time a certain young brahmin of Benares acquired all the
liberal arts at Takkasila, and having attained to proficiency
in archery, he was known as the clever Little Archer.
Then his master thought, "This youth has acquired skill
equal to my own," and he gave him his daughter to wife.
He took her and wishing to return to Benares he set out
on the road. Half-way on his journey, an elephant laid
waste a certain place, and no man dared to ascend to that
spot. The clever Little Archer, though the people tried
to stop him, took his wife and climbed up to the entrance
of the forest. Then when he was in the midst of the
wood, the elephant rose up to attack him. The Archer
wounded him in the forehead with an arrow, which piercing
him through and through came out at the back of his
head, and the elephant fell down dead on the spot. The
clever Archer after making this place secure, went on
further to another wood. And there fifty robbers were
infesting the road. Up to this spot too, though men tried
to stop him, he climbed till he found the regular place,
where the robbers killed the deer and roasted and ate
the venison, close to the road. The robbers, seeing him
approach with his gaily attired wife, made a great effort
to capture him. The robber chief, being skilled in reading
a man's character, just gave one look at him, and recognising
him as a distinguished hero, did not suffer them to rise up
against him, though he was single-handed. The clever
Archer sent his wife to these robbers, saying, "Go and bid
them give us a spit of meat, and bring it to me." So she
went and said, "Give me a spit of meat." The robber
chief said, " He is a noble fellow," and bade them give it
her. The robbers said, " What ! is he to eat our roast
meat ? " And they gave her a piece of raw meat. The
Archer, having a good opinion of himself, was wroth with
the robbers for offering him raw meat. The robbers said,
"What! is he the only man, and are we merely women?' 1
And thus threatening him, they rose up against him. The
Archer wounded and struck to the ground fifty robbers
save one with the same number of arrows. He had no
arrow left to wound the robber chief. There had been
full fifty arrows in his quiver. With one of them he had
wounded the elephant, and with the rest the fifty robbers
save one. So he knocked down the robber chief, and
sitting on his chest bade his wife bring him his sword in
her hand to cut off his head. At that very moment she
conceived a passion for the robber chief and placed the
hilt of the sw r ord in his hand and the sheath in that of
her husband. The robber grasping the hilt drew out the
sword, and cut off the head of the Archer. After slaying
her husband he took the woman with him, and as they
journeyed together he enquired of her origin. " I am the
daughter," she said, "of a world-famed professor at
Takkasila."

" How did he get you for his wife ? " he said.

"My father," she said, "was so pleased at his having
acquired from him an art equal to his own, that he gave
me to him to w r ife. And because I fell in love with you,
I let you kill my lawful husband."

Thought the robber chief, " This woman now has killed
her lawful husband. As soon as she sees some other man,
she will treat me too after the same sort. I must get rid
of her."

And as he went on his way, he saw their path cut off
by what Avas usually a poor little shallow stream, but
which was now flooded, and he said, "My dear, there is
a savage crocodile in this river. What are we to do?"

"My lord," she said, "take all the ornaments I wear,
and make them into a bundle in your upper robe, and
carry them to the further side of the river, and then come
back and take me across."

"Very well," he said, and took all her adornments,
and going down to the stream, like one in great haste,
he gained the other bank, and left her and fled.

On seeing this she cried, " My lord, you go as if you
were leaving me. Why do you do this ? Come back and
take me with you." And addressing him she uttered the
first stanza:

Since thou hast gained the other side,
With all iny goods in bundle tied,
Return as quickly as may be
And carry me across with thee.

The robber, on hearing her, as he stood on the
further bank, repeated the second stanza:

Thy fancy, lady, ever roves
From well-tried faith to lighter loves,
Me too thou wouldst ere long betray,
Should I not hence flee far away.

But when the robber said, "I will go further hence:
you stop where you are," she screamed aloud, and he fled
with all her adornments. Such was the fate that overtook
the poor fool through excess of passion. And being quite
helpless she drew nigh to a clump of cassia plants and sat
there weeping. At that moment Sakka, looking down
upon the world, saw her smitten with desire and weeping
for the loss of both husband and lover. And thinking he
would go and rebuke her and put her to shame, he took
with him Matali and Pancasikha 1 , and went and stood on
the bank of the river and said, " Matali, do you become
a fish, Pancasikha, you change into a bird, and I will
become a jackal. And taking a piece of meat in my
mouth, I will go and place myself in front of this woman,
and when you see me there, you, Matali, are to leap up
out of the water, and fall before me, and when I shall drop
the piece of meat I have taken in my mouth, and shall
spring up to seize the fish, at that moment, you, Pancasikha,
are to pounce upon the piece of meat, and to fly up into
the air, and you, Matali, are to fall into the water."

Thus did Sakka instruct them. And they said, " Good,
my lord." Matali was changed into a fish, Pancasikha
into a bird, and Sakka became a jackal. And taking a
piece of meat in his mouth, he went and placed himself in
front of the woman. The fish leaping up out of the water
fell before the jackal. The jackal dropping the piece of
meat he held in his mouth, sprang up to catch the fish. The
fish jumped up and fell into the water, and the bird seized
the piece of meat and flew up into the air. The jackal
thus lost both fish and meat and sat sulkily looking
towards the clump of cassia. The woman seeing this
said, "Through being too covetous, he got neither flesh
nor fish," and, as if she saw the point of the trick, she
laughed heartily.

The jackal, on hearing this, uttered the third stanza:

Who makes the cassia thicket ring
With laughter, though none dance or sing,
Or clap their hands, good time to keep?
Fair one, laugh not, when thou shouldst weep.

On hearing this, she repeated the fourth stanza :

silly jackal, thou must wish
Thou hadst not lost both flesh and fish.
Poor fool! well niayst thou grieve to see
What comes of thy stupidity.

Then the jackal repeated the fifth stanza:

Another's faults are plainly seen,
'Tis hard to see one's own, I ween.
Methinks thou too must count the cost,
When spouse and lover both are lost.

On hearing his words she spoke this stanza :

King jackal, 'tis just as you say,
So I will hie me far away,
And seek another wedded love
And strive a faithful wife to prove.

Then Sakka, king of heaven, hearing the words of this
vicious and unchaste woman, repeated the final stanza :

He that would steal a pot of clay
Would steal a brass one any day;
And thou who wast thy husband's bane
Wilt be as bad or worse again.

Thus did Sakka put her to shame and brought her
to repent, and then returned to his own abode.