The night was now over: darkness, the harbourer of vice, had fled away; the day dawned. King Alakésa left his bedchamber, bathed and made his religious ablutions, and after breakfasting summoned a council of all his father’s old ministers and advisers. Alakésa took his seat in the midst of the assembly: anger was clearly visible in his countenance; his eyes had lost their natural expression and had turned very red; his breath was as hot as that of a furnace. He thus addressed them: “Know ye all, the ministers of my father and of myself, that last night, during the first watch, my First Minister, Bodhaditya, while I and my queen were asleep in our chamber, came and touched with his finger the bosom of my queen. Consider well the gravity of this crime, and express your opinions as to what punishment he merits.” Thus spake King Alakésa; but all the ministers, not knowing what answer to return, hung down their heads in silence. Among those present was an aged minister named _Manuniti_, who called Bodhaditya to his side and privately learned the whole story. He then humbly bowed before the king, and thus spake: “Most noble king, men are not always wise; and, before replying to your majesty’s question, I beg permission to relate in your presence the story of a king in whose reign a certain benevolent action was repaid with disgrace and ignominy:
On the banks of the Kávéri there was a city called Tiruvidaimarudur, where ruled a king named Chakraditya. In that city there lived a poor Bráhman and his wife, who, having no children, brought up in their house a young parrot as tenderly as if it had been their own offspring. One day the parrot was sitting on the roof of the house, basking itself in the morning sun, when a large flock of parrots flew past, talking to each other about certain mango fruits. The Bráhman’s parrot asked them what were the peculiar properties of those fruits, and was informed that beyond the seven oceans there was a great mango tree, the fruit of which gave perpetual youth to the person who ate of it, however old and infirm he might be. On hearing of this wonder the Bráhman’s parrot requested permission to accompany them, which being granted, they all continued their flight. When at length they arrived at the mango tree, all ate of its fruit; but the Bráhman’s parrot reflected: “It would not be right for me to eat of this fruit; I am still young, while my adopted parents, the poor Bráhman and his wife, are very old. So I shall give them this fruit, and they will become young and blooming by eating it.” And that same evening the good parrot brought the fruit to the Bráhman, and explained to him its extraordinary properties. But the Bráhman thought within himself: “I am a beggar. What although I should become young and live for ever or should die this very moment? Our king is very good and charitable. If such a great man should eat of this fruit and renew his youth, he would confer the greatest benefits on mankind. Therefore I will give this mango to our good king.”