“Well then, when that dragon-king comes to your hermitage, before he has a chance to sit down, ask, saying: ‘Give me the jewel.’ If you do so, that dragon-king will depart without so much as encircling you with his coils. On the next day you must stand at the door of your hermitage and ask him just as he approaches. On the third day you must stand on the bank of the Ganges and ask him just as he comes out of the water. If you do so, he will not come back to your hermitage.” [Illustration: _Every day Jewel-neck the dragon-king would encircle him with his coils._] “Very well,” assented the ascetic, and went to his own leaf-hut. On the next day the dragon-king came and stopped at the hermitage. The moment he stopped, the ascetic asked: “Give me this jewel you wear.” Without so much as sitting down, the dragon-king fled. On the second day the ascetic, standing at the door of the hermitage, said to the dragon-king just as he approached: “Yesterday you would not give me the jewel; to-day I must have it.” Without so much as entering the hermitage, the dragon-king fled. On the third day the ascetic said to the dragon-king just as he came out of the water: “This is the third day I have asked; give me this jewel now.” The dragon-king, still remaining in the water, refused the ascetic, reciting these two stanzas: My food and drink, abundant, choice, I get by the power of this jewel. This I will not give you,--you ask too much; Nor will I even come back again to your hermitage. Like a lad with sand-washed sword in hand, You frighten me, asking for the stone. This I will not give you,--you ask too much; Nor will I even come back again to your hermitage. So saying, that dragon-king plunged into the water, went back to his own World of Dragons, and never came back again. And that ascetic, because he saw no more that dragon-king so fair to see, became more than ever lean, dried-up, pale, yellow as ever was yellow, his body strewn with veins. Now the older ascetic, thinking, “I will find out how my younger brother is getting on,” went to visit him. Seeing that he was suffering more than ever from jaundice, he said: “How comes it that you are suffering more than ever from jaundice?” “Because I see no more that dragon so fair to see.” “This ascetic cannot get along without the dragon-king,” concluded the older ascetic, and recited the third stanza: One should not beg or seek to get what is dear to another. Odious does one become by asking overmuch. When the Brahman asked the dragon for the jewel, Never again did the dragon let himself be seen. Having thus addressed him, the older ascetic comforted him, saying: “Henceforth grieve not;” and went back again to his own hermitage.