The Panchatantra (Purnabhadra's Recension of 1199 CE)/Book 1/The Mice That Ate Iron
THE MICE THAT ATE IRON
In a certain town lived a merchant named Naduk, who lost his money and determined to travel abroad. For
The meanest of mankind is he
Who, having lost his money, can
Inhabit lands or towns where once
He spent it like a gentleman.
And again:
The neighbor gossips blame
His poverty as shame
Who long was wont to play
Among them, proud and gay.
In his house was an iron balance-beam inherited from his ancestors, and it weighed a thousand pals. This he put in pawn with Merchant Lakshman before he departed for foreign countries.
Now after he had long traveled wherever business led him through foreign lands, he returned to his native city and said to Merchant Lakshman: "Friend Lakshman, return my deposit, the balance-beam." And Lakshman said: "Friend Naduk, your balance-beam has been eaten by mice."
To this Naduk replied: "Lakshman, you are in no way to blame, if it has been eaten by mice. Such is life. Nothing in the universe has any permanence. However, I am going to the river for a bath. Please send your boy Money-God with me, to carry my bathing things."
Since Lakshman was conscience-stricken at his own theft, he said to his son Money-God: "My dear boy, let me introduce Uncle Naduk, who is going to the river to bathe. You must go with him and carry his bathing things." Ah, there is too much truth in the saying: There is no purely loving deed
Without a pinch of fear or greed
Or service of a selfish need.
And again:
Wherever there is fond attention
That does not seek a service pension,
Was there no timid apprehension?
So Lakshman's son took the bathing things and delightedly accompanied Naduk to the river. After Naduk had taken his bath, he thrust Lakshman's son Money-God into a mountain cave, blocked the entrance with a great rock, and returned to Lakshman's house. And when Lakshman said: "Friend Naduk, tell me what has become of my son Money-God who went with you," Naduk answered: "My good Lakshman, a hawk carried him off from the river-bank."
"Oh, Naduk!" cried Lakshman. "You liar! How could a hawk possibly carry off a big boy like Money-God?" "But, Lakshman," retorted Naduk, "the mice could eat a balance-beam made of iron. Give me my balance-beam, if you want your son."
Finally, they carried their dispute to the palace gate, where Lakshman cried in a piercing tone: "Help! Help! A ghastly deed! This Naduk person has carried off my son—his name is Money-God."
Thereupon the magistrates said to Naduk: "Sir, restore the boy to Lakshman." But Naduk pleaded: "What am I to do? Before my eyes a hawk carried him from the river-bank." "Come, Naduk!" said they, "you are not telling the truth. How can a hawk carry off a fifteen-year-old boy?" Then Naduk laughed outright and said: "Gentlemen, listen to my words.
Where mice eat balance-beams of iron
A thousand pals in weight,
A hawk might steal an elephant;
A boy is trifling freight."
"How was that?" they asked, and Naduk told them the story of the balance-beam. At this they laughed and caused the restoration of balance-beam and boy to the respective owners.
"And that is why I say:
Where mice eat balance-beams of iron, . . . .
and the rest of it." And Cheek continued: "Dunderhead! You have done this because you could not cheerfully see Rusty's favor bestowed on Lively. Yes, yes, there is wisdom in the saying:
Cowards reproach the hero here on earth;
Base-born rascals blame the man of birth;
Misers, him who gives whate'er he can;
Misfit lovers blame the ladies' man;
Rogues, the righteous; cripples blame the straight;
Those unlucky blame the fortunate;
Last, the scholar—'tis the wretched rule—
Listens to reproaches from the fool.
Again:
Learnèd men from fools have hate;
Rich, from those less fortunate;
Men of virtue, from the vicious;
Wives, from creatures meretricious.
Yet, after all:
Wise men, even, carry through
What their nature bids them do:
Nature ever will direct;
What can punishment effect?
"Instruction has value only for him who grasps what has been said once. But you are like a stone—brainless, immovable. Why waste effort to instruct you? More than that, O fool! it is a mistake even to live beside you. A disaster might some day befall me from mere association with you. As the proverb says:
To live beside a dunderhead
In house or village, town or nation,
Is evil pure and simple, though
One may escape all litigation.
Better plunge in sea or fire,
Hell or deepest pit,
Than associate with one
Quite devoid of wit.
With the bad or good consort,
Vice or virtue clings;
Just as when the breezes in
Distant wanderings
Carry odors foul or sweet
On their restless wings.
"Indeed, there is wisdom in the old story:
Two birds were we. I and the other
One father had; we had one mother.
But I was taught by hermits, while
Beef-eaters gave him training vile.
Beef-eaters' speech, O King, he heard;
I listened to the hermits' word.
Our education, good and bad,
The obvious consequences had."
"How was that?" asked Victor. And Cheek told the story of