Once upon a time, they say, a white nun named Saccatapavi had a hut of leaves built in a cemetery near Benares, and living there she abstained from four out of five meals, and throughout the city her fame was blazed abroad like as it were that of the Moon or Sun, and natives of Benares, if they sneezed or stumbled, said, "Praise be to Saccatapavi." Now on the first day of a festival some goldsmiths had a tent erected in a certain spot where a crowd was gathered, and bringing fish, meat, strong drink, perfumes, wreaths and the like, they started a drinking bout. Then a certain goldsmith, who was addicted to drink, in vomiting said, "Praise be to Saccatapavi." On a certain wise man amongst them saying, "Alas! blind fool, you are paying honour to a fickle-minded woman--Oh! you are a fool," he replied, "Friend, speak not thus, nor be guilty of a deed that leads to hell." Then the wise man said, "You fool, hold your tongue. Lay a wager with me for a thousand crowns and on the seventh day from this, seated in this very spot, I will deliver into your hands Saccatapavi in splendid apparel and made merry with strong drink [428] and I too will have a good drink myself with her: so unstable are womenkind." He said, "You will not be able to do so," and took his wager for a thousand crowns. So he told the other goldsmiths, and early next morning, disguised as an ascetic, our wise man made his way into the cemetery, and not far from her place of abode stood worshipping the Sun. She saw him as she was setting out to collect alms, and thought, "Surely this must be an ascetic with miraculous powers. I dwell on one