The court poet and the king

There was a court poet who used to write very nice verses. During the day he was a good man, but at night he used to drink like anything. One night the king left his palace and went to see his court poet. Very often the king used to visit his subjects at night. On this occasion, as usual, the poet was quite drunk. He did not even stand up when he saw the king.

The king’s assistants told him, “O King, what can you expect? He is drunk.”

But the king was mad at the poet’s lack of respect. He said to the poet, “In my kingdom I have three categories of people. One is the commander-type. Another is the slave or donkey-type. And the third is in the fool category. To which category do you belong?”

The poet said to the king in a very commanding voice, “Sit down!”

“What!” shouted the king. “Nobody speaks to the king like that!”

“I want to be the commander-type,” said the poet. “That’s why I told you to sit down.”

The king said, “Come to the palace in the morning. Tomorrow I hope you will be all right.”

The next day the poet went to the palace. By now he was sober. As usual, the poet composed a poem. That day’s poem was very nice, and everybody was appreciating it, except the king. The king was still sad and miserable that he had been insulted by the poet.

The king said to the poet, “Yesterday you insulted me like anything. I am still angry and I want to punish you. I want you to wear a donkey skin with a donkey’s head and shoes. From top to bottom I want you to dress like a donkey — because you are an ass.”

The poet said, “Fine.” So the king’s assistants gave the poet a donkey uniform and began parading him around the kingdom.

People were surprised and they asked the poet, “What is the matter with you?”

The poet was a rogue. He answered, “Today I composed a most beautiful poem for the king and he was very pleased with me. When the king saw that I had given him the best thing that I had, he also wanted to give me the best thing that he had. So he gave me all the things that I am wearing. These are the things that the king treasures most, just as I treasure my poems.”