Notes on the story of Hariśarman

Note: this text is extracted from Book VI, chapter 30.

“There was a certain Brāhman in a certain village, named Hariśarman. He was poor and foolish and in evil case for want of employment, and he had very many children, that he might reap the fruit of his misdeeds in a former life. He wandered about begging with his family, and at last he reached a certain city, and entered the service of a rich householder called Sthūladatta...”

A. The “doctor know-all” motif:

The story of Hariśarman resembles closely that of “Doctor Allwissend” in Grimm’s Tales. It is shown by Benfey to exist in various forms in many countries. It is found in the Siddhī-Kür (Jülg, No. 4, p. 73 et seq.), the Mongolian form of the Sanskrit Vetālapañcavinśati. In this form of the story the incident of the frog in the pot is omitted, and the other incidents are considerably altered. Instead of the king’s treasure we find a magic gem, on which the prosperity of the country depends; it is not stolen, but lost by the king’s daughter. Instead of the horse we have the cure of a sick Khān who had been driven mad by evil spirits. The folly of the man who represents the Brāhman consists in his choosing worthless presents for his reward. (The story is the fourth in Sagas from the Far East.) Benfey considers the fullest form of the story to be that in Schleicher’s Lithuanian Legends. In this form of the story we have the stealing of the horse, but in other points it resembles the Mongolian version. The Brāhman is represented by a poor cottager, who puts up over his door a notice saying that he is a doctor, who knows everything and can do everything. The third exploit of the cottager is the finding of a stolen treasure which is the second in the Indian story, but his second is a miraculous cure which is in accordance with the Siddhī-Kür. The latter is probably a late work; and we may presume that the Mongols brought the Indian story to Europe, in a form more nearly resembling that in the Kathā Sarit Sāgara than that in the Siddhī-Kür. In the third exploit of the cottager in the Lithuanian tale, which corresponds to the second in the Indian, the treasure has been stolen by three servants. They listen outside while the doctor is alone in his room. When the clock strikes one, he says: “We have one.” When it strikes two, he says: “We have two.” When it strikes three, he says: “We have now three.” In their terror they go to the doctor and beg him not to betray them. He is richly rewarded.

But, after all, Grimm’s form of the tale is nearest to the Sanskrit. The dish with crabs in it, the contents of which the doctor has to guess, makes him exclaim: “Ach ich armer Krebs!” This might almost have been translated from the Sanskrit, it is so similar in form. The guilty servants who stole the gold are detected by the doctor’s saying to his wife, “Margaret, that is the first,” meaning the first who waited at table, and so on.

The story is also found in the Facetiæ of Henricus Bebelius, 1506. Here a poor charcoal-burner represents the Brāhman. He asks for three days to consider. The king gives him a good dinner, and while the first thief is standing at the window he exclaims: “Jam unus accessit!”—meaning, “one day is at an end.” The next day the second thief comes to listen. The charcoal-burner exclaims: “Secundus accessit I”—and so with the third; whereupon they all confess.

Benfey conceives himself to have found the incident of the horse in Poggii Facetiæ (86th edit., Cracov, 1592, p. 59). Here a doctor boasts a wonder-working pill. A man who has lost his ass takes one of these pills. It conducts him to a bed of reeds where he finds his ass. (The article from which I have taken these parallels is found in Benfey’s Orient und Occident, vol. i, p. 371 et seq.)

——The story in Grimm is No. 98, and in Margaret Hunt’s Grimm’s Household Tales (Bohn Library, 2 vols., 1884) it appears in vol. ii, pp. 56, 57, as “Doctor Knowall.” Grimm’s notes to this tale will be found on p. 401 of the same volume. See also J. Bolte, Anmerkungen zu den Kinder-und Hausmärchen der Brüder Grimm, vol. ii, p. 401 et seq.

Apart from the Benfey reference already given, see also his Pañcatantra, vol. i, p. 374.

Cf. “The Tale of the Weaver who became a Leech by order of his Wife” in the Nights (Burton, Supp., vol. i, pp. 282-287). In this tale the weaver learns the jargon of an itinerant quack, copies his methods, and makes quite a good living. This is as far as the “impostor” part goes, for the various clever deductions he makes are not guess-work or luck, so that this latter part of the story really belongs to the “quintessence” motif which I shall discuss in a long note to Chapter LXXXII. In the Nights (Burton, Supp., vol. ii, pp. 341-343), W. A. Clouston refers to the tale of the charcoal-burner in Dasent’s Tales from the Fjeld, and to the amusing story of Ahmed the Cobbler in Sir John Malcolm’s Sketches of Persia, chap. xx. He gives a long extract from this latter story, which is supplementary to that already given in his Popular Tales and Fictions, vol. ii, pp. 413-421. Here will be found several other references, including one to Crane’s Italian Popular Tales, pp. 293, 314; and to a Siṃhalese variant translated by W. Goonetilleke in the Orientalist for February 1884.

See also Cosquin, Contes populaires de Lorraine, vol. ii, pp. 187-193; Sébillot, Folk-Lore de France, vol. iii, p. 335; Montaiglon, Fabliatut, iii, p. 370; Kennedy, Fireside Stories, p. 116; Green, Modem Arabic Stories, p. 52; Lidzbarski, Geschichten und Lieder aus den neuaramäischen Handschriften zu Berlin, 1896, p. 65; Bompas, Folklore of the Santal Parganas, No. 68, p. 206; and Parker, Village Folk-Tales of Ceylon, No. 23, p. 179.

Cf. the sixth fable of night 13 of Straparola (trans. W. G. Waters, London, 1894, vol. ii, pp. 277-279), in which the widow’s foolish son Lucilio, misunderstanding his mother’s meaning, goes to the city to look for “the good day.” Three men, on their way to dig up a treasure they have found, wish him, in turn, a good day. Each time Lucilio says; “Aha! I have one of them!”—meaning one of the good days. The men become frightened, and Lucilio gets a good share of the treasure. Several analogues to the tale are given on p. 322 of the same volume. Those which have not already been mentioned are as follows:—

• Morlini, Novellæ fabulæ et comediæ, nov. 29, “De matre quæ desidiosum filium ut repetiret bonum diem misit”;
• Visentini, Fiabe Mantovani, No. 41, “Gambara”;
• Gonzenbach, Sicilianische Märchen, No. 57; and Irubriani, Novellaja Milanese, nov. 10.

Chauvin, Bibliographic des Ouvrages Arabes, viii, pp. 105, 106, gives a few further references. —n.m.p.

B. Metrical version of the story of Hariśarman:

The following metrical version of the Story of Hariśarman was translated by the Rev. B. Hale Wortham and printed in the Journ. Roy. As. Soc., vol. xviii, N.S., 1886, pp. 16-20. It is reproduced here in full by kind permission of the Royal Asiatic Society.

Once on a time within a certain town
There lived a Brāhman ; he was very poor,
And foolish too. Moreover, he had naught
Wherewith to earn a livelihood; his case
Was altogether very bad. Besides he had
No end of children ; thus the deity
Would punish him for all the wicked deeds
Committed in some former life. So then
The Brāhman (Hariśarman was his name)
Wandered about, with all his family,
To beg for alms : and in his wanderings
He chanced upon a village. There he stayed,
And in a rich householder’s family
He entered into service. While his sons
Tended the cows, and kept their master’s goods,
His wife served him, and in a dwelling near
He lived himself, performing day by day
The tasks appointed in his master’s house.
One day the daughter of the householder
Was married, and a mighty feast was made,
And friends from far and near invited came.
Then was the Brāhman pleased, because he thought
That he would cram himself up to the throat
With dainties; but no one remembered him
Nor asked him to the feast. When night had come,
Filled with distress because his hopes had failed,
He called his wife to him :—“Stupid,” he said,
“And poor am I: men therefore with disdain
Put me aside: now by an artifice
Will I deceive them, and I shall appear
Wise and discerning. This must be your part
To tell my master, when you have the chance,
That I am learned in magic art. Respect
Shall then be paid me.” So a plan he formed
And secretly by night he stole the horse
On which the bridegroom rode. When morning came,
The bridegroom’s men searched far and near, but found
Him not, for Hariśarman had concealed
The horse in some far-distant place. Then came
The Brāhinan’s wife and said: “Why not consult
My husband ? for he knows astrology
And all the sciences. Lo ! he will find
The horse for you.” Therefore the householder
Sent messengers to ask the Brāhman’s help.
Then Hariśarman said : “To-day the horse
Is stolen, and you call me to your house,
’Twas only yesterday I was ignored.”
“I pray thee pardon,” said the householder;
“Indeed we did forget”—with such-like words
He turned aside the Brāhman’s wrath, and said:
“Tell me, where is the horse ?” The Brāhman drew
Elaborate diagrams, and feigned to make
Deep calculations. “You will find the horse
(At last he said) in such and such a place,
Be quick and fetch him home, before the thieves
Convey him further.” Then they went and found
The horse and brought him back, praising the skill
Of Hariśarman. All men honoured him
And took him for a sage. It came to pass
After some time the palace of the king
Wras entered by a thief, who carried off
Jewels and gold. Now Hariśarman’s fame
Had reached the royal ears, therefore the king
Sent for the Brāhman. He, when summoned, came,
But gave no answer, trying to evade
The question. “When to-morrow comes,” he said,
“An answer I will give you.” Then the king
Locked Hariśarman up within a room
And placed a watch. Filled with despondency,
The Brāhman thought but little would avail
All his pretended wisdom. In that place
There was a maid called Jihvā; it so chanced
That she, helped by her brother, was the thief.
This maid, o’ercome with terror at the skill
Of Hariśarman, listened at the door
By night, intent on finding out, if possible,
What he might be about. Just at that time
The Brāhman, who was in the room alone,
Taking to task his tongue, which had assumed
To know that which it knew not, said :—“Alas!
O Jihvā, what is this that thou hast done
Through lust of pleasure ? Evil one ! endure
Thy punishment.” The servant, terrified,
Thought that her crime was known, and entering in,
Fell at the Brāhman’s feet, whom she supposed
To have all knowledge, and she said : “O sir,
’Tis true ! I am the thief! I Jihvā stole
The gold and jewels, and I buried them
Under the roots of a pomegranate-tree
Behind the palace. Take the gold, I pray,
Which I have left, and spare me; I confess
My crime.” When Hariśarman heard these words,
He said with haughtiness : “I know all this !
Depart! The future, past and present lie
Within my ken; but I will not denounce
You as the thief, because you are a wretch
Who have implored my mercy. Bring to me
Whatever gold you have.” Without delay
The maid departed. Then the Brāhman thought
In wonder: “That which seemed impossible
Fate has accomplished, as it were in sport—
Fate well disposed to me. Calamity
Seemed close at hand, but yet I have attained
Success beyond my hopes. I blamed my tongue,
The cause of all my ills, when suddenly
Before my very feet Jihvā the thief
Falls prostrate. Secret crimes are brought to light
(This I perceive) by fear.” With thoughts like these
He passed the night rejoicing. Morning dawned,
And then he led the king, with much pretence
Of wisdom, to the garden where the gold
Had been concealed. Showing him what remained,
He said the thief had carried part away.
Then was the king delighted, and he gave
To Hariśarman honours and rewards.
But Devajñānin, the chief minister,
Said to the king in private, whispering
Into his ear: “How should a man possess
Knowledge like this, which ordinary men
May not attain, seeing his ignorance.
He knows naught of the Śāstras—of the books
Treating of science. So you may be sure
He has a secret partnership with thieves,
And makes his living by dishonest means.
Try him again by some new artifice—
And test his wisdom.” To this scheme the king
Gladly assented, and he placed a frog
Within a covered pitcher, newly bought,
And said to Hariśarman : “Tell me now,
What is within this pitcher ? If you guess
Aright, then will I honour you indeed.”
The Brāhman heard these words, and thought his end
Had come at length : then rose within his mind
The name of “ frog,” by which in sportiveness
His father used to call him ; suddenly,
Impelled by some divinity, he spoke,
Lamenting his untimely fate, and said,
Addressing thus himself: “ Poor little frog!
Surely this pitcher is the overthrow
Of all your hopes, for on you in this place
Destruction swiftly falls.” Then all who heard
The Brāhman’s words, with loud applause exclaimed
“Indeed, a mighty sage ! he even saw
Within the pitcher.” Then, indeed, the king,
Thinking that Hariśarman’s skill was due
To magic art, gave to him villages
And wealth, and outward marks of royal state.
The humble Brāhman thus became a prince.