An unloved wife, O brother, does not make home dear, nor its four walls attractive, so I betook myself on journeys almost more willingly than before, and in the intervals concerned myself solely with business matters. And as I—to give the truth its due—did not in these deal too scrupulously, but without much hesitation took what was to my own advantage on every occasion, my riches increased to such an extent that, after a few years, I found myself near to the goal of my ambition, and was one of the richest citizens of my native town.
With that happy state of things came the desire, as master of a house and father of a family—my wife had in the meantime borne me two daughters—to taste the sweets of my riches very fully, and in especial to make a display of them before my fellow-citizens. To that end I purchased a large tract of land in the suburbs, and laid out a magnificent pleasure-garden, in the midst of which I built a spacious mansion, with halls whose ceilings were borne aloft on marble pillars. This property was reckoned among the marvels of Ujjeni, and even the king came, to see it.
Within these fair domains I now gave fabulous garden festivals and the most luxurious of banquets. I had begun to devote myself more and more to the pleasures of the table. The most luscious viands which were by any possibility, each in his season, to be had for money, had to appear on my table even at ordinary meals. At that time I was not, as thou dost now see me, lean and wasted by lone wanderings, by life in the woods, and ascetic exercises, but of a full habit of body—indeed, even inclined to be somewhat portly.
And it became, O stranger, a proverbial saying in Ujjeni: “His table is like the merchant Kamanita’s.”
XIV
The Husband
One morning I was walking back and forth in the grounds with my head gardener, considering where improvements could be best introduced, when my father, on his old ass, rode into the courtyard.
I hastened forward, and, after helping him to dismount, was about to go into the garden with him, as I believed he had come to enjoy the beauty of our flowers. But he preferred to enter the first room that offered, and when I ordered my man to bring refreshments he declined—he wished to speak to me without being disturbed.
Overcome by a feeling of uneasiness, and scenting danger ahead, I sat down on a low seat beside him.
“My son,” he began, in a tone of deepest earnestness, “thy wife has hitherto borne thee but two daughters, and there is no prospect that she will present thee with a son. Now, it is said, and with much truth, that the man dies miserably for whom there is no son to offer the sacrifices proper to the dead. I don’t blame thee, my son,” he added hastily, perhaps observing that I became somewhat restless; and, although I was not aware how in this matter I could have deserved blame, I thanked him with becoming humility for his clemency, and kissed his hand.
“No, I must blame myself, because in choosing thy wife, I allowed myself to be dazzled in too great a degree by worldly considerations, having reference to family and possessions, and did not observe the characteristic marks sufficiently. The girl whom I now have in mind for thee comes, it is true, of a family by no means distinguished, and far from rich; nor can one praise her for her possession of what the superficial observer calls beauty. But, by way of recompense, she has a navel which sits deep and is turned to the right; both hands and feet bear lotus, urn, and wheel moles; her hair is quite smooth, save only on her neck where she has two locks curling to the right. Of a maiden who possesses such marks, the wise say that she will bear five heroic sons.”
I declared myself perfectly satisfied with the prospect, thanked my father for the kindness with which he thought for me, and said I was ready to lead the maiden home at once. For I thought to myself, “Well—if it has to be …”
“At once!” cried out my father, in accents of horror. “But, my son, moderate thy impatience! We are at present in the southern course of the sun. When this deity enters his northern course, and we have reached the half of the month in which the moon waxes, then will we choose a favourable day for joining hands—but not before—not before, my son! Else what would all the bride’s good qualities do for us?”
I begged my father to have no anxiety. I would have patience for the time mentioned, and would in all things be guided by his wisdom; on which he praised my dutifulness, gave me his blessing, and allowed me to order refreshments.
At last the day—for which I did not ardently long, but on which all the propitious signs were found to be united—approached. The ceremonies were this time much more tedious. Full fourteen days did I need beforehand, in order to master all the necessary sentences. The agony of fear I endured during the joining of hands in the house of my father-in-law, it is hardly possible to put into words. I trembled without intermission, filled with a horrible dread lest I should not recite some verse correctly, or in keeping with the action to which it belonged; for my father would assuredly never have forgiven me for it. And yet,
