The Wedge-pulling Monkey

THE WEDGE-PULLING MONKEY

There was a city in a certain region. In a grove near by, a merchant was having a temple built. Each day at the noon hour the foreman and workers would go to the city for lunch.

Now one day a troop of monkeys came upon the half-built temple. There lay a tremendous anjana-log, which a mechanic had begun to split, a wedge of acacia-wood being thrust in at the top.

There the monkeys began their playful frolics upon tree-top, lofty roof, and woodpile. Then one of them, whose doom was near, thoughtlessly bestrode the log, thinking: "Who stuck a wedge in this queer place?" So he seized it with both hands and started to work it loose. Now what happened when the wedge gave at the spot where his private parts entered the cleft, that, sir, you know without being told.

"And that is why I say that meddling should be avoided by the intelligent. And you know," he continued, "that we two pick up a fair living just from his leavings."

​"But," said Victor, "how can you give first-rate service merely from a desire for food with no desire for distinction? There is wisdom in the saying:

In hurting foes and helping friendsThe wise perceive the proper endsOf serving kings. The belly's callTo answer, is no job at all.

And again:

When many lives on one depend,Then life is life indeed:A crow, with beak equipped, can fillHis belly's selfish need.If loving kindness be not shownTo friends and souls in pain,To teachers, servants, and one's self,What use in life, what gain?A crow will live for many yearsAnd eat the offered grain.A dog is quite contented ifHe gets a meatless bone,A dirty thing with gristle-stringsAnd marrow-fat alone—And not enough of it at thatTo still his belly's moan.The lion scorns the jackal, thoughBetween his paws, to smiteThe elephant. For everyone,However sad his plight,Demands the recompense that heEsteems his native right.

Dogs wag their tails and fawn and roll,Bare mouth and belly, at your feet:Bull-elephants show self-esteem,Demand much coaxing ere they eat.A tiny rillIs quick to fill,And quick a mouse's paws;So seedy menAre grateful, whenThere is but little cause.For if there be no mindDebating good and ill,And if religion sendNo challenge to the will,If only greed be thereFor some material feast,How draw a line betweenThe man-beast and the beast?

Or more accurately yet:

Since cattle draw the plowThrough rough and level soil,And bend their patient necksTo heavy wagons' toil,Are kind, of sinless birth,And find in grass a feast,How can they be comparedWith any human beast?"

"But at present," said Cheek, "we two hold no job at court. So why meddle?" "My dear fellow," said Victor, "after a little the jobless man does hold a job. As the saying goes:

The jobless man is hiredFor careful serving;The holder may be fired,If undeserving.No character moves up or downAt others' smile or others' frown;But honor or contempt on earthWill follow conduct's inner worth.

And once more:

It costs an effort stillTo carry stones uphill;They tumble in a trice:So virtue, and so vice."

"Well," said Cheek, "what do you wish to imply?" And Victor answered: "You see, our master is frightened, his servants are frightened, and he does not know what to do." "How can you be sure of that?" asked Cheek, and Victor said: "Isn't it plain?

An ox can understand, of course,The spoken word; a driven horseOr elephant, exerts his force;But men of wisdom can inferUnuttered thought from features' stir—For wit rewards its worshiper.

And again:

From feature, gesture, gait,From twitch, or word,From change in eye or faceIs thought inferred.

​So by virtue of native intelligence I intend to get him into my power this very day."

"Why," said Cheek, "you do not know how to make yourself useful to a superior. So tell me. How can you establish power over him?"

"And why, my good fellow, do I not know how to make myself useful?" said Victor. "The saintly poet Vyasa has sung the entry of the Pandu princes into Virata's court. From his poem I learned the whole duty of a functionary. You have heard the proverb:

No burden enervates the strong;To enterprise no road is long;The well-informed all countries range;To flatterers no man is strange."

But Cheek objected: "He might perhaps despise you for forcing yourself into a position that does not belong to you." "Yes," said Victor, "there is point in that. However, I am also a judge of occasions. And there are rules, as follows:

The Lord of Learning, speaking toA false occasion,Will meet with hatred, and of courseLack all persuasion.

And again:

The favorite's business comes to beA sudden source of king'sennui,When he is thoughtful, trying scents,Retiring, or in conference.

​And once again:

On hours of talk or squabbling rude,Of physic, barber, flirting, food,A gentleman does not intrude.Let everyone be cautiousIn palaces of kings;And let not students rummageIn their professor's things:For naughty meddlers sufferDestruction swift and sure,Like evening candles, lightedIn houses of the poor.

Or put it this way:

On entering a palace,Adjust a modest dress;Go slowly, bowing lowlyIn timely humbleness;And sound the kingly temper,And kingly whims no less.

Or this way:

Though ignorant and common,Unworth the honoring,Men win to royal favorBy standing near the king:For kings and vines and maidensTo nearest neighbors cling.

And once again:

The servant in his master's faceDiscerns the signs of wrath and grace,And though the master jerk and tack,The servant slowly mounts his back.

​And finally:

The brave, the learnѐd, he who winsTo bureaucratic power—These three, alone of all mankind,Can pluck earth's golden flower.

"Now let me inform you how power is gained by dancing attendance on a master.

Win the friendly counselors,To the monarch dear,Win persuasive speakers; soGain the royal ear.On the undiscerning mob'Tis not wise to toil:No man reaps a harvest byPlowing barren soil.Serve a king of merit, thoughFriendless, destitute;After some delay, you pluckLong-enduring fruit.Hate your master, and you fillServant's meanest state:Not discerning whom to serve,'Tis yourself you hate.Treat the dowager, the queen,And the king-to-be,Chaplain, porter, counselor,Most obsequiously.One who seeks the van in fights,In the palace clings,In the city walks behind,Is beloved of kings.

One who flatters when addressed,Does the proper things,Acts without expressing doubts,Is beloved of kings.One, the royal gifts of cashPrudently who flings,Wearing gifts of garments, heIs beloved of kings.One who never makes replyThat his master stings,Never boisterously laughs,Is beloved of kings.One who never hearkens toQueenly whisperings,In the women's quarters dumb,Is beloved of kings.One who, even in distress,Never boasts and singsOf his master's favor, heIs beloved of kings.One who hates his master's foe,Loves his friend, and bringsPain or joy to either one,Is beloved of kings.One who never disagrees,Blames, or pulls the stringsOf intrigue with enemies,Is beloved of kings.

One who finds in battle, peaceFree from questionings,Thinks of exile as of home,Is beloved of kings.One who thinks of dice as death,Wine as poison-stings,Others' wives as statues, heIs beloved of kings."

"Well," said Cheek, "when you come into his presence, what do you intend to say first? Please tell me that." And Victor replied:

"Answers, after speech begins,Further answers breed,As a seed, with timely rain,Ripens other seed.

And besides:

A clever servant shows his masterThe gleam of triumph or disasterFrom good or evil courses springing,And shows him wit, decision-bringing.The man possessing such a witShould magnify and foster it;Thereby he earns a livelihoodAnd public honor from the good.

And there is a saying:

Let anyone who does not seekHis master's fall, unbidden speak;So act at least the excellent:The other kind are different."

​"But," said Cheek, "kings are hard to conciliate. There is a saying:

In sensuous coilAnd heartless toil,In sinuous courseAnd armored force,In savage harmsThat yield to charms—In all these thingsAre snakes like kings.Uneven, rough,And high enough—Yet low folk roamTheir flanks as home,And wild things hauntThem, hungry, gaunt—In all these thingsAre hills like kings.

The things that claw, and the things that goreAre unreliable things;And so is a man with a sword in his hand,And rivers, and women, and kings."

"Quite true," said Victor. "However:

The clever man soon penetratesThe subject's mind, and captivates.Cringe, and flatter him when angry;Love his friend and hate his foe;Duly advertise his presents—Trust no magic—win him so.

If a man excel in actionLearning, fluent word,

Make yourself his humble servantWhile his power is stirred,Quick to leave him at the momentWhen he grows absurd.Plant your words where profit lies:Whiter cloth takes faster dyes.Till you know his power and manhood,Effort has no scope:Moonlight's glitter vainly rivalsHimalaya's slope."

And Cheek replied: "If you have made up your mind, then seek the feet of the king. Blest be your journeyings. May your purpose be accomplished.

Be heedful in the presence of the king;We also to your health and fortune cling."

Then Victor bowed to his friend, and went to meet Rusty.

Now when Rusty saw Victor approaching, he said to the doorkeeper: "Away with your reed of office! This is an old acquaintance, the counselor's son Victor. He has free entrance. Let him come in. He belongs to the second circle." So Victor entered, bowed to Rusty, and sat down on the seat indicated to him.

Then Rusty extended a right paw adorned with claws as formidable as thunderbolts, and said respectfully: "Do you enjoy health? Why has so long a time passed since you were last visible?" And Victor replied: "Even though my royal master has no present need of me, still I ought to report at the​proper time. For there is nothing that may not render service to a king. As the saying goes:

To clean a tooth or scratch an earA straw may serve a king:A man, with speech and action, isA higher kind of thing.

"Besides, we who are ancestral servants of our royal master, follow him even in disasters. For us there is no other course. Now the proverb says:

Set in fit position eachGem or serving-man;No tiaras on the toes,Just because you can.Servants leave the kings who theirQualities ignore,Even kings of lofty line,Wealthy, served of yore.Lacking honor from their equalsJobless,déclassé,Servants give their master noticeThat they will not stay.

And again:

If set in tin, a gem that wouldAdorn a golden frame,Will never scream nor fail to gleamYet tells its wearer's shame.The king who reads a servant's mind—Dull, faithless, faithful, wise—May servants find of every kindFor every enterprise.

​"And as for my master's remark: 'It is long since you were last visible,' pray hear the reason of that:

Where just distinction is not drawnBetween the left and right,The self-respecting, if they can,Will quickly take to flight.If masters no distinction makeAmong their servants, thenThey lose the zealous officesOf energetic men.And in a market where it seemsThat no distinctions holdBetween red-eye and ruby, howCan precious gems be sold?There must be bonds of unionIn all their dealings, sinceNo prince can lack his servantsNor servants lack a prince.

"Yet the nature of the servant also depends on the master's quality. As the saying goes:

In case of horse or book or sword,Of woman, man or lute or word,The use or uselessness dependsOn qualities the user lends.

"And another point. You do wrong to despise me because I am a jackal. For

Silk comes from worms, and gold from stone;From cow's hair sacred grass is grown;The water-lily springs from mud;From cow-dung sprouts the lotus-bud;

The moon its rise from ocean takes;And gems proceed from hoods of snakes;From cows' bile yellow dyestuffs come;And fire in wood is quite at home:The worthy, by display of worth,Attain distinction, not by birth.

And again:

Kill, although domestic born,Any hurtful mouse:Bribe an alien cat who willHelp to clean the house.

And once again:

How use the faithful, lacking power?Or strong, who evil do?But me, O King, you should not scorn,For I am strong and true.Scorn not the wise who penetrateTruth's universal law;They are not men to be restrainedBy money's petty straw:When beauty glistens on their cheeksBy trickling ichor lent,Bull-elephants feel lotus-chainsAs no impediment."

"Oh," said Rusty, "you must not say such things. You are our counselor's son, an old retainer." "O King," said Victor, "there is something that should be said." And the king replied: "My good fellow, reveal what is in your heart."

Then Victor began: "My master set out to take water. Why did he turn back and camp here?" And​Rusty, concealing his inner feelings, said: "Victor, it just happened so." "O King," said the jackal, "if it is not a thing to disclose, then let it be.

Some things a man should tell his wife,Some things to friend and some to son;All these are trusted. He should notTell everything to everyone."

Hereupon Rusty reflected: "He seems trustworthy. I will tell him what I have in mind. For the proverb says:

You find repose, in sore disaster,By telling things to powerful master,To honest servant, faithful friend,Or wife who loves you till the end.

Friend Victor, did you hear a great voice in the distance?" "Yes, master, I did," said Victor. "What of it?"

And Rusty continued: "My good fellow, I intend to leave this forest." "Why?" said Victor. "Because," said Rusty, "there has come into our forest some prodigious creature, from whom we hear this great voice. His nature must correspond to his voice, and his power to his nature."

"What!" said Victor. "Is our master frightened by a mere voice? You know the proverb:

Water undermines the dikes;Love dissolves when malice strikes;Secrets melt when babblings start;Simple words melt dastard hearts.

​So it would be improper if our master abruptly left the forest which was won by his ancestors and has been so long in the family. For they say:

Wisely move one foot; the otherShould its vantage hold;Till assured of some new dwelling,Do not leave the old.

"Besides, many kinds of sounds are heard here. Yet they are nothing but noises, not a warning of danger. For example, we hear the sounds made by thunder, wind among the reeds, lutes, drums, tambourines, conch-shells, bells, wagons, banging doors, machines, and other things. They are nothing to be afraid of. As the verse says:

If a king be brave, howeverFierce the foe and grim,Sorrows of humiliationDo not wait for him.

And again:

Bravest bosoms do not falter,Fearing heaven's threat:Summer dries the pools; the IndusRises, greater yet.

And once again:

Mothers bear on rare occasionsTo the world a chief,Glad in luck and brave in battle,Undepressed in grief.

And yet again:

Do not act as does the grass-blade,Lacking honest pride,

Drooping low in feeble meanness,Lightly brushed aside.

My master must take this point of view and reinforce his resolution, not fear a mere sound. As the saying goes:

I thought at first that it was fullOf fat; I crept withinAnd there I did not find a thingExcept some wood and skin."

"How was that?" asked Rusty. And Victor told the story of

THE JACKAL AND THE WAR-DRUM