When young Tenali Rama first walked from his village to the great city of Vijayanagara, he owned nothing but Goddess Kali's blessing and a head full of verses. For days he tried to enter the palace to show his gifts to King Krishnadevaraya, and for days the gatekeeper turned him away like a stray dog.
At last the gatekeeper looked him over slyly. "Suppose I let you in, poet. Kings are generous. Promise me HALF of whatever reward His Majesty gives you." "Agreed, brother — half of my reward is yours," said Tenali solemnly. But inside, at the door of the great hall, a second attendant barred his path with the very same demand. "Then you shall have the OTHER half," promised Tenali, "and I shall carry only the honour."
Before the throne, Tenali's verses sparkled, his jokes flew like arrows, and Krishnadevaraya laughed as he had not laughed in a year. "Brilliant!" cried the king. "Name any reward you please." The court leaned forward to hear what the poor newcomer would ask — gold, land, pearls?
"One hundred lashes of the cane, Your Majesty," said Tenali cheerfully. The hall gasped. "A hundred lashes?" said the king. "Are you mocking my generosity?" "Never, Sire — but the reward is already spoken for. At your outer gate I promised half of it to your gatekeeper, and at this door the other half to your attendant. They were most particular about their shares. I would not dream of cheating such honest servants — fifty lashes each, if it please Your Majesty."
The king stared — then understood, and his laughter shook the pillars. The two rascals were dragged in trembling, confessed their toll-taking, and received exactly the reward they had bargained for, while their posts were given to worthier men. "And you," said Krishnadevaraya, wiping his eyes, "you shall stay where such wits belong — beside my throne." Thus greed collected its wages, and Vijayanagara gained its most famous jester.