After seven days the merchant said to Jīvaka, “Doctor, I’m unable to lie on my back for seven months.” “But didn’t you say you were?” “I did, but I’ll die. I’m unable to do it.”

“If I hadn’t said this to you, you wouldn’t have been able to lie down for so long. I already knew that you would be well in three times seven days. Get up, you’re cured. But do you remember my fee?” “All my wealth is yours, doctor, and I’m your slave.” “There’s no need for that. Just give one hundred thousand coins to the king and another one hundred thousand to me.” And being well, he did just that.

5. The account of the wealthy merchant’s son