The King and The Scavenger
Long long ago there lived a king whom everyone feared but no one loved. It was because he was cruel to all. In his country lived a priest who preached peace and piety. His radiant face and his noble conduct attracted many. They thronged to see him and hear him, both in the morning and in the evening. The news of the priest's popularity reached the king. He grew jealous. He ordered his guards to bring the priest to the court. The priest came and with him many of his followers. Their very sight infuriated the king. He shouted, "You wicked fellow! What makes you gather crowds around you? And what is this mass prayer for? I suspect treason." "My Lord! I am innocent and ignorant of any treason. I preach nothing but peace and piety to the folk. And I am not that wicked to plot against my sovereign lord," replied the priest. The king, far from being satisfied, said, "You liar! You can't cheat me as you cheat these foolish folk. I accuse you of treason. However, here are three questions. You will be spared if you answer them correctly. If you fail to answer even one, your head will go!" "My Lord! You are prejudiced against me. I know that you will no longer listen to what I say. Come on with your questions. Let whatever God wills befall me."
The jealous king poured out the questions: "First, tell me my worth! Secondly, tell me how many days it would take me to travel around the world. Finally, let me hear from you what I am thinking!" The priest's face paled. He scratched his head, tapped his forehead, and moistened his lip with his tongue. But he could not hit upon any answer to the questions. He bowed to the king and said, "My Lord! these are difficult riddles for me. If you would be pleased to allow me three weeks, I may be able to find out the answers." The king roared with laughter and said, "Poor priest! You would like to be alive for three more weeks! All right! I will treat this request as your last wish. Come back after three weeks. Your answers will decide your fate, although I can imagine what it will be!" The priest consulted all the scholars he knew and his friends and his disciples. All of them listened to his plight and were full of sympathy for him, but when asked for a solution, they pleaded helplessness. It was the fag end of the third week. The sad priest sat brooding in his garden. His scavenger who came to clean his garden inquired what the matter was. The priest told him all. The illiterate scavenger heard him with the utmost attention. "Worry no more sir," he said. "Lend me your horse, your gown, and a few of your disciples and buy me a false beard that resembles your true one. And that puts an end to the matter." His heart going pit-a-pit, the priest fulfilled the scavenger's demands. On the last day of the third week the scavenger, in the disguise of the priest, stood in the court, facing the king.