The man who swallowed a snake
In the following tale, the wise man can be equated with the Sufi shaykh, and the sleeping man with our unenlightened state. The beating the sleeping man receives is an allegory for the suffering that we experience as we awaken to reality.
One day a wise man was riding along the road when he came across a man who was fast asleep. As he passed by, he saw a snake sliding into the sleeping man’s mouth. The wise man dismounted quickly and tried to scare the snake away, but to no avail. Taking up his club, he struck the sleeping man with several powerful blows. Awakened abruptly from his sleep, the man fled for safety to a nearby tree. It was an apple tree, and the ground around it was covered with rotting fruit. ‘Eat them!’ ordered the wise man, stuffing the mouth of the terrified man with apples until no more would go in.
‘Why are you doing this to me?’ spluttered the man. ‘What have I done to offend you? If you have a deep-seated quarrel with me, settle it with your sword! Oh, cursed was the hour that you first saw me, and blessed is the man who never sets eyes on you! No guilt, no sin, not the slightest misdemeanour – even heretics wouldn’t approve of punishment this severe. Look! My mouth is pouring with blood and words! O God, I beg Thee, repay him in like manner!’ Yet however much the man cursed, the wise man continued to shower him with blows.
‘Keep running!’ shouted the wise man, and the man kept running from his pursuer, picking himself up off the ground whenever he fell flat on his face. Stuffed with apples, his body covered in cuts and bruises, he was chased backwards and forwards by the wise man until nightfall when he was seized by a violent bout of vomiting. Everything came up, including the snake.
When the man saw the ugly black reptile, he forgot all about the beating he had received and fell on his knees at the feet of the man who had saved him. ‘Truly’ he said, ‘You are either Gabriel or God, for you are the lord of beneficence! Oh, blessed is the hour that you first saw me, for I was dead and you have given me new life . . . Had I known, how could I have said such foolish things? I would have praised you, had you given me the slightest hint as to what you were really doing. Instead, you kept quiet, and carried on beating me in silence.’
‘Had I told you about the snake,’ replied the wise man, ‘you might have died of fright . . . You would have been so terrified that you would not have been able to eat, nor to vomit. I heard your abuse but carried on with what I had to do, repeating to myself, “O Lord, make it easy!”‘
(M II: 1878–96, 1904–6, 1910, 1922–3)