THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS (Book -4) -3

THE JĀTAKA

OR

STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS

No. 454.

GHATA-JĀTAKA 1.

"Black Kaṇha, rise," etc. This story the Master told in Jetavana about a son's death. The circumstances are like those in the Maṭṭha-Kuṇḍali Birth 2. Here again the Master asked the lay brother, "Are you in grief, layman?" He replied, "Yes, Sir." "Layman," said the Master, "long ago wise men listened to the bidding of the wise, and did not grieve for the death of a son." And at his request, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, a king named Mahākaṃsa reigned in Uttarāpatha, in the Kaṃsa district, in the city of Asitañjanā. He had two sons, Kaṃsa and Upakaṃsa, and one daughter named Devagabbhā. On her birthday the brahmins who foretold the future said of her: "A son born of this girl will one day destroy the country and the lineage of Kaṃsa." The king was too fond of the girl to put her to death; but leaving her brothers to settle it, lived his days out, and then died. When he died Kaṃsa became king, and Upakaṃsa was viceroy. They thought that there would be an outcry were they to put their sister to death, so resolved to give her in marriage to none, but to keep her husbandless, and watch; and they built a single round-tower, for her to live in.
Now she had a serving-woman named Nandagopā, and the woman's husband, Andhakaveṇhu, was the servant who watched her. At that time a king named Mahāsāgara reigned in Upper Madhurā, and he had two sons, Sāgara and Upasāgara. At their father's death, Sāgara became king, and Upasāgara was viceroy. This lad was Upakaṃsa's friend, brought up together with him and trained by the same teacher. But he intrigued in his brother's zenana, and being detected, ran away to Upakaṃsa in the Kaṃsa estate. Upakaṃsa introduced him to king Kaṃsa, [80] and the king had him in great honour.
Upasāgara while waiting upon the king observed the tower where dwelt Devagabbhā; and on asking who lived there, heard the story, and fell in love with the girl. And Devagabbhā one day saw him as he went with Upakaṃsa to wait upon the king. She asked who that was; and being told by Nandagopā that it was Upasāgara, son of the great king Sāgara, she too fell in love with him. Upasāgara gave a present to Nandagopā, saying, "Sister, you can arrange a meeting for me with Devagabbhā." "Easy enough," quoth Nandagopā, and told the girl about it. She being

already in love with him, agreed at once. One night Nandagopā arranged a tryst, and brought Upasāgara up into the tower; and there he stayed with Devagabbhā. And by their constant intercourse, Devagabbhā conceived. By and bye it became known that she was with child, and the brothers questioned Nandagopā. She made them promise her pardon, and then told the ins and outs of the matter. When they heard the story, they thought, "We cannot put our sister to death. If she bears a daughter, we will spare the babe also; if a son, we will kill him." And they gave Devagabbhā to Upasāgara to wife.
When her full time came to be delivered, she brought forth a daughter. The brothers on hearing this were delighted, and gave her the name of the Lady Añjanā. And they allotted to them a village for their estate, named Govaḍḍhamāna. Upasāgara took Devagabbhā and lived with her at the village of Govaḍḍhamāna.
Devagabbhā was again with child, and that very day Nandagopā conceived also. When their time was come, they brought forth on the same day, Devagabbhā a son and Nandagopā a daughter. But Devagabbhā, in fear that her son might be put to death, sent him secretly to Nandagopā, and received Nandagopā's daughter in return. They told the brothers of the birth. "Son or daughter?" they asked. [81] "Daughter," was the reply. "Then see that it is reared," said the brothers. In the same way Devagabbhā bore ten sons, and Nandagopā ten daughters. The sons lived with Nandagopā and the daughters with Devagabbhā, and not a soul knew the secret.
The eldest son of Devagabbhā was named Vāsu-deva, the second Baladeva, the third Canda-deva, the fourth Suriya-deva, the fifth Aggi-deva, the sixth Varuṇa-deva, the seventh Ajjuna, the eighth Pajjuna, the ninth Ghata-paṇḍita, the tenth Aṁkura 1. They were well known as the sons of Andhakaveṇhu the servitor, the Ten Slave-Brethren.
In course of time they grew big, and being very strong, and withal fierce and ferocious, they went about plundering, they even went so far as to plunder a present being conveyed to the king. The people came crowding in the king's court yard, complaining, "Andhakaveṇhu's sons, the Ten Brethren, are plundering the land!" So the king summoned Andhakaveṇhu, and rebuked him for permitting his sons to plunder. In the same way complaint was made three or four times, and the king threatened him. He being in fear of his life craved the boon of safety from the king, and told the secret, that how these were no sons of his, but of
  Upasāgara. The king was alarmed. "How can we get hold of them?" he asked his courtiers. They replied, "Sire, they are wrestlers. Let us hold a wrestling match in the city, and when they enter the ring we will catch them and put them to death." So they sent for two wrestlers, Cānura and Muṭṭhika, and caused proclamation to be made throughout the city by beat of drum, "that on the seventh day there would be a wrestling match."
The wrestling ring was prepared in front of the king's gate; there was an enclosure for the games, the ring was decked out gaily, the flags of victory were ready tied. The whole city was in a whirl; line over line rose the seats, tier above tier. Cānura and Muṭṭhika went down into the ring, and strutted about, jumping, shouting, clapping their hands. The Ten Brethren came too. On their way they plundered the washer men's street, and clad themselves in robes of bright colours, [82] and stealing perfume from the perfumers’ shops, and wreaths of flowers from the florists, with their bodies all anointed, garlands upon their heads, earrings in their ears, they strutted into the ring, jumping, shouting, clapping their hands.
At the moment, Cānura was walking about and clapping his hands. Baladeva, seeing him, thought, "I won't touch yon fellow with my hand!" so catching up a thick strap from the elephant stable, jumping and shouting he threw it round Cānura's belly, and joining the two ends together, brought them tight, then lifting him up, swung him round over his head, and dashing him on the ground rolled him outside the arena. When Cānura was dead, the king sent for Muṭṭhika. Up got Muṭṭhika, jumping, shouting, clapping his hands. Baladeva smote him, and crushed in his eyes; and as he cried out—"I'm no wrestler! I'm no wrestler!" Baladeva tied his hands together, saying, "Wrestler or no wrestler, it is all one to me," and dashing him down on the ground, killed him and threw him outside the arena.
Muṭṭhika in his death-throes, uttered a prayer—"May I become a goblin, and devour him!" And he became a goblin, in a forest called by the name of Kāḷamattiya. The king said, "Take away the Ten Slave-Brethren." At that moment, Vāsudeva threw a wheel 1, which lopped off the heads of the two brothers 2. The crowd, terrified, fell at his feet, and besought him to be their protector.
Thus the Ten Brethren, having slain their two uncles, assumed the sovereignty of the city of Asitañjanā, and brought their parents thither.
They now set out, intending to conquer all India. In a while they arrived at the city of Ayojjhā, the seat of king Kāḷasena. This they encompassed about, and destroyed the jungle around it, breached the

wall and took the king prisoner, and took the sovereignty of the place into their hands. Thence they proceeded to Dvāravatī. Now this city had on one side the sea and on one the mountains. They say that the place was goblin-haunted. A goblin would be stationed on the watch, who seeing his enemies, in the shape of an ass would bray as the ass brays. [83] At once, by goblin magic the whole city used to rise in the air, and deposit itself on an island in the midst of the sea; when the foe was gone, it would come back and settle in its own place again. This time, as usual, no sooner the ass saw those Ten Brethren coming, than he brayed with the bray of an ass. Up rose the city in the air, and settled upon the island. No city could they see, and turned back; then back came the city to its own place again. They returned—again the ass did as before. The sovereignty of the city of Dvāravatī they could not take.
So they visited Kaṇha-dīpāyana 1, and said: "Sir, we have failed to capture the kingdom of Dvāravatī; tell us how to do it." He said: "In a ditch, in such a place, is an ass walking about. He brays when he sees an enemy, and immediately the city rises in the air. You must clasp hold of his feet 2, and that is the way to accomplish your end." Then they took leave of the ascetic; and went all ten of then to the ass, and falling at his feet, said, "Sir, we have no help but thee! When we come to take the city, do not bray!" The ass replied, "I cannot help braying. But if you come first, and four of you bring great iron ploughs, and at the four gates of the city dig great iron posts into the ground, and when the city begins to rise, if you will fix on the post a chain of iron fastened to the plough, the city will not be able to rise." They thanked him; and he did not utter a sound while they got ploughs, and fixed the posts in the ground at the four gates of the city, and stood waiting. Then the ass brayed, the city began to rise, but those who stood at the four gates with the four ploughs, having fixed to the posts iron chains which were fastened to the ploughs, the city could not rise. Thereupon the Ten Brethren entered the city, killed the king, and took his kingdom.
Thus they conquered all India, [84] and in three and sixty thousand cities they slew by the wheel all the kings of them, and lived at Dvāravatī, dividing the kingdom into ten shares. But they had forgotten their sister, the Lady Añjanā. So "Let us make eleven shares of it," said they. But Aṁkura answered, "Give her my share, and I will take to some business for a living; only you must remit my taxes each in your own country." They consented, and gave his share to his sister;

and with her they dwelt in Dvāravatī, nine kings, while Aṁkura embarked in trade.
In course of time, they were all increased with sons and with daughters; and after a long time had gone by, their parents died. At that period, they say that a man's life was twenty thousand years.
Then died one clearly beloved son of the great King Vāsudeva. The king, half dead with grief, neglected everything, and lay lamenting, and clutching the frame of his bed. Then Ghatapaṇḍita thought to himself, "Except me, no one else is able to soothe my brother's grief; I will find some means of soothing his grief for him." So assuming the appearance of madness, he paced through the whole city, gazing up at the sky, and crying out, "Give me a hare! Give me a hare!" All the city was excited: "Ghatapaṇḍita has gone mad!" they said. Just then a courtier named Rohiṇeyya, went into the presence of King Vāsudeva, and opened a conversation with him by reciting the first stanza:

"Black Kanha, rise! why close the eyes to sleep? why lying there
Thine own born brother—see, the winds away his wit do bear,
Away his wisdom 1! Ghata raves, thou of the long black hair!"

---

[85] When the courtier had thus spoken, the Master perceiving that he had risen, in his Perfect Wisdom uttered the second stanza:

"So soon the long-haired Kesava heard Rohiṇeyya's cry,
He rose all anxious and distrest for Ghata's misery."

---

Up rose the king, and quickly came down from his chamber; and proceeding to Ghatapaṇḍita, he got fast hold of him with both hands; and speaking to him, uttered the third stanza:

"In maniac fashion, why do you pace Dvāraka all through,
And cry, "Hare, hare!" Say, who is there has taken a hare from you?"

To these words of the king, he only answered by repeating the same cry over and over again. But the king recited two more stanzas:

"Be it of gold, or made of jewels fine,
Or brass, or silver, as you may incline 2,
    Shell, stone, or coral, I declare
    I'll make a hare.

"And many other hares there be, that range the woodland wide,
They shall be brought, I'll have them caught; say, which do you decide?"

On hearing the king's words, the wise man replied by repeating the sixth stanza:

"I crave no hare of earthly kind, but that within the moon 1:
O bring him down, O Kesava! I ask no other boon!"

"Undoubtedly my brother has gone mad," thought the king, when he heard this. In great grief, he repeated the seventh stanza:
[86]

"In sooth, my brother, you will die, if you make such a prayer,
And ask for what no man may pray, the moon's celestial hare."

Ghatapaṇḍita, on hearing the king's answer, stood stock still, and said: "My brother, you know that if a man prays for the hare in the moon, and cannot get it, he will die; then why do you mourn for your dead son?"

"If, Kanha, this you know, and can console another's woe,
Why are you mourning still the son who died so long ago?"

Then he went on, standing there in the street—"And I, brother, pray only for what exists, but you are mourning for what does not exist." Then he instructed him by repeating two more stanzas:

"My son is born, let him not die!" Nor man nor deity
Can have that boon; then wherefore pray for what can never be?

"Nor mystic charm, nor magic roots, nor herbs, nor money spent,
Can bring to life again that ghost whom, Kanha, you lament."
The King, on hearing this, answered, "Your intent was good, dear one. You did it to take away my trouble." Then in praise of Ghatapaṇḍita he repeated four stanzas:
[87]

"Men had I, wise and excellent to give me good advice:
But how hath Ghatapaṇḍita opened this day mine eyes!

"Blazing was I, as when a man pours oil upon a fire 2;
Thou didst bring water, and didst quench the pain of my desire.
"Grief for my son, a cruel shaft was lodged within my heart;
Thou hast consoled me for my grief, and taken out the dart.
"That dart extracted, free from pain, tranquil, and calm I keep;
Hearing, O youth, thy words of truth, no more I grieve nor weep."

---

And lastly:

"Thus do the merciful, and thus they who are wise indeed:
They free from pain, as Ghata here his eldest brother freed."

This is the stanza of Perfect Wisdom.

---

In this manner was Vāsudeva consoled by Prince Ghata.
After the lapse of a long time, during which he ruled his kingdom, the sons of the ten brethren thought: "They say that Kaṇhadīpāyana is

possest of divine insight. Let us put him to the test." So they procured a young lad, and drest him up, and by binding a pillow about his belly, made it appear as though he were with child. Then they brought him into his presence, and asked him, "When, Sir, will this woman be delivered?" The ascetic perceived 1 that the time was come for the destruction of the ten royal brothers; then, looking 1 to see what the term of his own life should be, he perceived that he must die that very day. Then he said, "Young sirs, what is this man to you?" "Answer us," they replied persistently. He answered, "This man on the seventh day from now will bring forth a knot of acacia wood. With that he will destroy the line of Vāsudeva, even though ye should take the piece of wood and burn it, and cast the ashes into the river." "Ah, false ascetic!" said they, "a man can never bring forth a child!" and they did the rope and string business, and killed him at once. The kings sent for the young men, and asked them why they had killed the ascetic. [88] When they heard all, they were frightened. They set a guard upon the man; and when on the seventh day he voided from his belly a knot of acacia wood, they burnt it, and cast the ashes into the river. The ashes floated down the river, and stuck on one side by a postern gate; from thence sprung an eraka plant.
One day, the kings proposed that they should go and disport themselves in the water. So to this postern gate they came; and they caused a great pavilion to be made, and in that gorgeous pavilion they ate and drank. Then in sport they began to catch hold of hand and foot, and dividing into two parts, they became very quarrelsome. At last one of them, finding nothing better for a club, picked a leaf from the eraka plant, which even as he plucked it became a club of acacia wood in his hand. With this he beat many people. Then the others plucked also, and the things as they took them became clubs, and with them they cudgelled one another until they were killed. As these were destroying each other, four only—Vāsudeva, Baladeva, the lady Añjanā their sister, and the chaplain—mounted a chariot and fled away; the rest perished, every one.
Now these four, fleeing away in the chariot, came to the forest of Kāḷamattikā. There Muṭṭhika the Wrestler had been born, having become according to his prayer a goblin. When he perceived the coming of Baladeva, he created a village in that spot; and taking the semblance of a wrestler, he went jumping about, and shouting, "Who's for a fight?" snapping his fingers the while. Baladeva, as soon as he saw him, said, "Brother, I'll try a fall with this fellow." Vāsudeva tried and tried his best to prevent him; but down he got from the chariot, and went up to him, snapping his fingers. The other just seized him in the

hollow of his hand, and gobbled him up like a radish-bulb. Vāsudeva, perceiving that he was dead, went on all night long with his sister and the chaplain, and at sunrise arrived at a frontier village. He lay down in the shelter of a bush, and sent his sister and the chaplain into the village, with orders to cook some food and bring it to him. A huntsman (his name was Jarā, or Old Age) noticed the bush shaking. "A pig, sure enough," thought he; he threw a spear, and pierced his feet. "Who has wounded me?" cried out Vāsudeva. The huntsman, finding that he had wounded a man, set off running in terror. [89] The king, recovering his wits, got up, and called the huntsman—"Uncle, come here, don't be afraid!" When he came—"Who are you?" asked Vāsudeva. "My name is Jarā, my lord." "Ah," thought the king, "whom Old Age wounds will die, so the ancients used to say. Without doubt I must die to-day." Then he said, Fear not, Uncle; come, bind up my wound." The mouth of the wound bound up, the king let him go. Great pains came upon him; he could not eat the food that the others brought. Then addressing himself to the others, Vāsudeva said: "This day I am to die. You are delicate creatures, and will never be able to learn anything else for a living; so learn this science from me." So saying, he taught them a science, and let them go; and then died immediately.
Thus excepting the lady Añjanā, they perished every one, it is said.

---

When the Master had ended this discourse, he said, "Lay Brother, thus people have got free from grief for a son by attending to the words of wise men of old; do not you think about it." Then he declared the Truths (at the conclusion of the Truths the Lay Brother was established in the fruit of the First Path), and identified the Birth: "At that time, Ānanda was Rohiṇeyya, Sāriputta was Vāsudeva, the followers of the Buddha were the other persons, and I myself was Ghatapaṇḍita."

Footnotes

50:1 The prophecy, and the tower, and the result, will remind the reader of Danae.
50:2 No. 449, above.
51:1 Krishna, Bala-rāma (Krishna's brother), Moon, Sun, Fire, Varuṇa the heaven-god, the tree Terminalia Arjuna, the Rain-cloud (? pajjunno, Skr. , while is a name of Kāma), Ghee-sage (? or ghaṭa-p., an ascetic), Sprout. The story seems to contain a kernel of nature-myth.
52:1 A kind of weapon.
52:2 i.e. the king and his brother.
53:1 The Sage already mentioned in No. 444 (see p. 18, above).
53:2 i.e. beseech him.
54:1 Lit. "his heart and his right eye" (Sch.): Cf. Sanskr. vāyu-grasta "mad."
54:2 These lines have occurred already in No. 449.
55:1 What we call the Man in the Moon is in India called the Hare in the Moon, cf. Jātaka, No. 316.
55:2 These lines occur above, p. 39.
56:1 i.e. by his miraculous vision.

BOOK XI. EKĀDASA-NIPĀTA.

No. 455.

MĀTI-POSAKA-JĀTAKA.

[90] "Though far away," etc. This story the Master told, while dwelling in Jetavana, about an Elder who had his mother to support. The circumstances of the event are like those of the Sāma Birth 1. On this occasion also the Master said, addressing the Brethren, "Be not wroth, Brethren, with this man; wise men there have been of old, who even when born from the womb of animals, being parted asunder from their mothers, refused for seven days to take food, pining away; and even when they were offered food fit for a king, did but reply, Without my mother I will not eat; yet took food again when they saw the mother." So saying, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born as an Elephant in the Himalaya region. All white he was, a magnificent beast, and a herd of eighty thousand elephants surrounded him; but his mother was blind. He would give his elephants the sweet wild fruit, so sweet, to convey to her; yet to her they gave none, but themselves ate all of it. When he made enquiry, and heard news of this, said he, "I will leave the herd, and cherish my mother." So in the night season, unknown to the other elephants, taking his mother with him, he departed to Mount Caṇḍoraṇa; and there he placed his mother in a cave of the hills, hard by a lake, and cherished her.
Now a certain forester, who dwelt in Benares, lost his way; and being unable to get his bearings, [91] began to lament with a great noise. Hearing this noise, the Bodhisatta thought to himself, "There is a man in distress, and it is not meet that he come to harm while I am here." So he drew near to the man; but the man fled in fear. Seeing which, the Elephant said to him, "Ho man! you have no need to fear me. Do not flee, but say why you walk about weeping?"

"My lord," said the man, "I have lost my way, this seven days gone."
Said the Elephant, "Fear not, O man; for I will put you in the path of men." Then he made the man sit on his back, and carried him out of the forest, and then returned.
This wicked man determined to go into the city, and tell the king. So he marked the trees, and marked the hills, and then made his way to Benares. At that time the king's state elephant had just died. The king caused it to be proclaimed by beat of drum, "If any man has in any place seen an elephant fit and proper for the king's riding, let him declare it!" Then this man came before the king, and said, "I, my lord, have seen a splendid elephant, white all over and excellent, fit for the king's riding. I will show the way; send but with me the elephant trainers, and you shall catch him." The king agreed, and sent with the man a forester and a great troop of followers.
The man went with him, and found the Bodhisatta feeding in the lake. When the Bodhisatta saw the forester, he thought, "This danger has doubtless come from none other than that man. But I am very strong; I can scatter even a thousand elephants; in anger I am able to destroy all the beasts that carry the army of a whole kingdom. But if I give way to anger, my virtue will be marred. So to-day I will not be angry, not even though pierced with knives." With this resolve, bowing his head he remained immovable.
Down into the lotus-lake went the forester, and seeing the beauty of his points, said, "Come, my son!" Then seizing him by the trunk (and like a silver rope it was), he led him in seven days to Benares.
When the Bodhisatta's mother found that her son came not, she thought that he must have been caught by the king's nobles. [92] "And now," she wailed, "all these trees will go on growing, but he will be far away"; and she repeated two stanzas:

"Though far away this elephant should go,
Still olibane and kuṭaja 1 will grow,
    Grain, grass, and oleander, lilies white,
On sheltered spots the bluebells dark still blow.

"Somewhere that royal elephant must go,
Full fed by those whose breast and body show
All gold-bedeckt, that King or Prince may ride
Fearless to triumph o’er the mailclad foe."
Now the trainer, while he was yet in the way, sent on a message to tell the king. And the king caused the city to be decorated. The trainer led the Bodhisatta into a stable all adorned and decked out with festoons and with garlands, and surrounding him, with a screen of

many colours, sent word to the king. And the king took all manner of fine food and caused it to be given to the Bodhisatta. But not a bit would he eat: "Without my mother, I will eat nothing," said he. The king besought him to eat, repeating the third stanza:
[93]

"Come, take a morsel, Elephant, and never pine away:
There's many a thing to serve your king that you shall do one day."

Hearing this, the Bodhisatta repeated the fourth stanza:

"Nay, she by Mount Caṇḍoraṇa, poor blind and wretched one,
Beats with a foot on some tree-root, without her royal son."

The king said the fifth stanza to ask his meaning:

"Who is’t by Mount Caṇḍoraṇa, what blind and wretched one,
Beats with a foot on some tree-root, without her royal son?"

To which the other replied in the sixth stanza:

"My mother by Caṇḍoraṇa, ah blind, ah wretched one!
Beats with her foot on some tree-root for lack of me, her son!"

And hearing this, the king gave him freedom, reciting the seventh stanza:

"This mighty Elephant, who feeds his mother, let go free:
And let him to his mother go, and to all his family."

---

The eighth and ninth stanzas are those of the Buddha in his perfect wisdom:

"The Elephant from prison freed, the beast set free from chain,
With words of consolation 1 went back to the hills again.

[94]"Then from the cool and limpid pool, where Elephants frequent,
He with his trunk drew water, and his mother all besprent."

---

But the mother of the Bodhisatta thought it had begun to rain, and repeated the tenth stanza, rebuking the rain:

"Who brings unseasonable rain—what evil deity?
For he is gone, my own, my son, who used to care for me."

Then the Bodhisatta repeated the eleventh stanza, to reassure her:

"Rise mother! why should you there lie? your own, your son has come!
Vedeha, Kāsi's glorious king, has sent me safely home."

And she returned thanks to the king by repeating the last stanza:

"Long live that king! long may he bring his realms prosperity,
Who freed that son who ever hath done so great respect to me!"

The king was pleased with the Bodhisatta's goodness; and he built a town not far from the lake, and did continual service to the Bodhisatta and to his mother. Afterwards, when his mother died, and the Bodhisatta had performed her obsequies, [95] he went away to a monastery called Karaṇḍaka. In this place five hundred sages came and dwelt, and the king did the like service for them. The king had a stone image made in the figure of the Bodhisatta, and great honour he paid to this. There the inhabitants of all India year by year gathered together, to perform what was called the Elephant Festival.

---

When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths, and identified the Birth: (now at the conclusion of the Truths the Brother who supported his mother was established in the fruit of the First Path:) "At that time, Ānanda was the king, the lady Mahāmāyā was the she-elephant, and I was myself the elephant that fed his mother."

Footnotes

58:1 No. 540, vol. vi. 68 (Pāli).
59:1 A medicinal plant.
60:1 The Scholiast explains that the elephant discoursed on virtue to the king, then told him to be careful, and departed, amid the plaudits of the multitude, who threw flowers upon him. He then went home, and fed and washed his mother. To explain this, the Master repeated the two stanzas.

No. 456.

JUṆHA-JĀTAKA. 1

"O king of men," etc. This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana about the boons received by Elder Ānanda. During the twenty years of his first Buddhahood the Blessed One's attendants were not always the same: sometimes Elder Nāgasamāla, sometimes Nāgita, Upavāṇa, Sunakkhatta, Cunda, Sāgala, sometimes Meghiya waited upon the Blessed One. One day the Blessed One said to the Brethren: "Now I am old, Brethren: and when I say, Let us go in this way, some of the Brotherhood go by another way, some drop my bowl and robe on the ground. Choose out one Brother to attend always upon me." Then they uprose all, beginning with Elder Sāriputta, and laid their joined hands to their heads, crying, "I will serve you, Sir, I will serve you!" But he refused them, saying, "Your prayer is forestalled! enough." Then the Brethren said to the Elder Ānanda, "Do you, friend, ask for the post of attendant." The Elder said, "If the Blessed One will not give me the robe which he himself has received, if he will not give me his dole of food, if he will not grant me to dwell in the same fragrant cell, if he will not have me with him to go where he is invited: but if the Blessed One will go with me where I am invited, if I shall be granted to introduce the company at the moment of coming, which comes from foreign parts and foreign countries to see the Blessed One, [96] if I shall be granted to approach the Blessed One as soon as doubt shall arise, if whenever the Blessed One shall discourse in my absence he will repeat his discourse to me as soon as I shall return: then I will attend upon the Blessed One." These eight boons he craved, four negative and four positive. And the Blessed One granted them to him.

After that he attended continually upon his Master for five and twenty years. So having obtained the preeminence in the five points 1, and having gained seven blessings, blessing of doctrine, blessing of instruction, blessing of the knowledge of causes, blessing of inquiry as to one's good, blessing of dwelling in a holy place, blessing of enlightened devotion, blessing of potential Buddhahood, in the presence of the Buddha he received the heritage of eight boons, and became famous in the Buddha's religion, and shone as the moon in the heavens.
One day they began to talk about it in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, the Tathāgata has satisfied Elder Ānanda by granting his boons." The Master entered, and asked, "What are you speaking of, Brethren, as ye sit here?" They told him. Then he said, "It is not now the first time, Brethren, but in former days as now I satisfied Ānanda with a boon; in former days, as now, whatsoever he asked, I gave him." And so saying, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, a son of his named Prince Juṇha, or the Moonlight Prince, was studying at Takkasilā. One night, after he had been listening carefully to his teacher's instruction, he left the house of his teacher in the dark, and set out for home. A certain brahmin had been seeking alms, and was going home, and the prince not perceiving him ran up against the brahmin, and broke his alms bowl with a blow of his arm. The brahmin fell, with a cry. In compassion the prince turned round, and taking hold of the man's hands raised him to his feet. The brahmin said, "Now, my son, you have broken my alms-bowl, so give me the price of a meal." Said the Prince, "I cannot now give you the price of a meal, brahmin; but I am Prince Juṇha, son of the king of Kāsi, and when I come to my kingdom, you may come to me and ask for the money."
When his education was finished, he took leave of his teacher, and returning to Benares, showed his father what he had learnt.
"I have seen my son before my death," said the king, "and I will see him king indeed." Then he sprinkled him and made him king. [97] Under the name of King Juṇha the prince ruled in righteousness. When the brahmin heard of it, he thought now he would recover the price of his meal. So to Benares he came, and saw the city all decorated, and the king moving in solemn procession right-wise around it. Taking his stand upon a high place, the brahmin stretched out his hand, and cried, "Victory to the king!" The king passed by without looking at him. When the brahmin found that he was not noticed, he asked an explanation by repeating the first stanza:

"O king of men, hear what I have to say!
Not without cause have I come here this day.
    ’Tis said, O best of men, one should not pass
A wandering brahmin standing in the way."

On hearing these words the king turned back the elephant with his jewelled goad 1, and repeated the second stanza:

"I heard, I stand: come brahmin, quickly say,
What cause it is has brought you here to-day?
    What boon is it that you would crave of me
That you are come to see me? speak, I pray!"

What further king and brahmin said to each other by way of question and answer, is told in the remaining stanzas:

"Give me five villages, all choice and fine,
A hundred slave-girls, seven hundred kine,
    More than a thousand ornaments of gold,
And two wives give me, of like birth with mine."

[98] "Hast thou a penance, brahmin, dread to tell,
Or hast thou many a charm and many a spell,
    Or goblins, ready your behests to do,
Or any claim for having served me well?"
"No penance have I, nor no charm and spell,
No demons ready to obey me well,
    Nor any meed for service can I claim;
But we have met before, the truth to tell."
"I cannot call to mind, in time past o’er,
That I have ever seen thy face before.
    Tell me, I beg thee, tell this thing to me,
When have we met, or where, in days of yore?"
"In the fair city of Gandhāra's king,
Takkasilā, my lord, was our dwelling.
    There in the pitchy darkness of the night
Shoulder to shoulder thou and I did fling.
"And as we both were standing there, O prince,
A friendly talk between us straight begins.
    Then we together met, and only then,
Nor ever once before, nor ever since."
"Whenever, brahmin, a wise man has met
A good man in the world, he should not let
    Friendship once made or old acquaintance go
For nothing, nor the thing once done forget.
"’Tis fools deny the thing once done, and let
Old friendships fail of those they once have met.
    Many a deed of fools to nothing comes,
They are ungrateful, and they can forget.
"But trusty men cannot forget the past,
Their friendship and acquaintance ever fast.
[99]     A trifle done by such is not disowned:
Thus trusty men are grateful to the last.
"Five villages I give thee, choice and fine,
A hundred slave-girls, and seven hundred kine,
    More than a thousand ornaments of gold,
And more, two wives of equal birth with thine."

"O king, thus is it when the good agree:
As the full moon among the stars we see,
    Even so, O Lord of Kāsi, so am I,
Now thou hast kept the bargain made with me."

[100] The Bodhisatta added great honour to him.

---

When the Master had ended this discourse, he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that I have satisfied Ānanda with boons, but I have done it before." With these words, he identified the Birth: "At that time Ānanda was the brahmin, and I was myself the king."

Footnotes

61:1 R. Fick, Sociale Gliederung im Nordöstlichen Indien zu Buddha's Zeit, p. 119.
62:1 Are these the Five abhabbatthānas?
63:1 Correct ii. 253. 19 to "jewelled goad"

No. 457.

DHAMMA-JĀTAKA.

"I do the right," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, how Devadatta was swallowed up in the earth. They gathered in the Hall of Truth to talk: "Friend, Devadatta fell at enmity with the Tathāgata, and was swallowed up in the earth." The Master entering asked what they were talking of as they sat there. They told him. He replied, "Now, Brethren, he has been swallowed up in the earth because he dealt a blow at my victorious authority; but formerly he dealt a blow at the authority of right, and was swallowed up in the earth, and went on his way to nethermost hell." So saying, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into the world of sense as one of the gods, and was named Dhamma, or Right, while Devadatta was called Adhamma, or Wrong.
As on the fast-day of the full moon, in the evening when meals were done, men were sitting in enjoyment each at his own house-door in village and city and royal capital, Dhamma appeared before them, poised in the air, in his celestial chariot mounted, and adorned with celestial array, in the midst of a multitude of nymphs, and thus addressed them:
"Take not the life of living creatures, and the other ten paths of evildoing eschew, fulfil the duty of service to mother and the duty of service to father and the threefold course of right 1; [101] thus ye shall become destined for heaven, and shall receive great glory." Thus did he urge men

to follow the ten paths of right-doing, and made a, solemn circuit around India right-wise. But Adhamma taught them, "Kill that which lives," and in like manner urged men to follow the other ten paths of evildoing, and made a circuit around India left-wise.
Now their chariots met face to face in the air, and their attendant multitudes asked each the other, "Whose are you? and whose are you?" They replied, "We are of Dhamma, we of Adhamma," and made room, so that their paths were divided. But Dhamma said to Adhamma, "Good sir, you are Adhamma, and I am Dhamma; I have the right of way; turn your chariot aside, and give me way," repeating the first stanza:

"I do the right, men's fame is of my grace,
Me sages and me brahmins ever praise,
    Worshipt of men and gods, the right of way
Is mine. Right am I: then, O Wrong, give place!"

These next follow:

"In the strong car of Wrong enthroned on high
Me mighty there is nought can terrify:
    Then why should I, who never yet gave place,
Make way to-day for Right to pass me by?"

"Right 1 of a truth was first made manifest,
Primeval he, the oldest, and the best;
Wrong was the younger, later born in time.
Way, younger, at the elder-born's behest!"
"Nor if you worthy be, nor if you pray,
Nor if it be but fair, will I give way:
[102]     Here let us two to-day a battle wage;
He shall have place, whoever wins the fray."
"Known am I in all regions far and near,
Mighty, of boundless glory, without peer,
    All virtues are united in my form.
Right am I: Wrong, how can you conquer here?"
"By iron gold is beaten, nor do we
Gold used for beating iron ever see:
    If Wrong ’gainst Right shall win the fight to-day,
Iron as beautiful as gold will be."
"If you indeed are mighty in the fray,
Though neither good nor wise is what you say,
    Swallow I will all these your evil words;
And willy nilly I will make you way."
These six stanzas they repeated, one answering the other.
[103] But at the very moment when the Bodhisatta repeated this stanza, Adhamma could no longer stand in his car, but head-foremost plunged into the earth which gaped to receive him, and was born again in nethermost hell.

---

The Blessed One no sooner perceived this that had happened, than in his Perfect Wisdom he recited the remaining stanzas:

The words no sooner heard, Wrong from the height
Plunged over heels head-foremost out of sight:
    This was the end and direful fate of Wrong.
I had no battle, though I longed to fight.

"Thus by the Mighty-in-Forbearance lies
Conquered the Mighty Warrior Wrong, and dies
    Swallowed in earth: the other, joyful, strong,
Truth-armoured, in his car away he hies.
"Who in his house no due observance pays
To parents, sages, brahmins, when he lays
    The body down, and bursts its bonds asunder,
He, even from this world, goes straight to hell,
Even as Adhamma down head-foremost fell.
"Who in his house all due observance pays
To parents, sages, brahmins, when he lays
    The body down, and bursts its bonds asunder,
Straight from this world, onward to heaven he hies,
As Dhamma in his chariot sought the skies."

---

[104] When the Master had ended this discourse, he said, "Not now only, Brethren, but in former times also, Devadatta attacked me, and was swallowed up in the earth": then he identified the Birth—"At that time Devadatta was Adhamma, and his attendants were the attendants of Devadatta, and I was Dhamma, and the Buddha's attendants were the attendants of Dhamma."

Footnotes

64:1 Right doing, right saying, right thinking.
65:1 Cf. Pali text, III. 29 (translation, p. 19).

No. 458.

UDAYA-JĀTAKA. 1

"Thee flawless," etc. This story the Master told, while dwelling in Jetavana, about a backsliding Brother. The occasion will be explained under the Kusa Birth 2. Again the Master asked the man, "Is it true, Brother, that you have backslidden, as they say?" And he replied, "Yes, Sir." Then he said, "O Brother, why are you backsliding from a religion such as ours, that leads to salvation, and all for fleshly lusts? Wise men of old, who were kings in Surundha, a city prosperous and measuring twelve leagues either way, though for seven hundred years they abode in one chamber with a woman beauteous as the nymphs divine, yet did not yield to their senses, and never so much as looked at her with desire." So saying, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time, when king Kāsi was reigning over the realm of Kāsi, in Surundha his city, neither son nor daughter had he. So he bade his queens offer prayer for sons. Then the Bodhisatta, passing out of Brahma's world, was conceived in the womb of his chief queen. And because by his birth he cheered the hearts of a great multitude, he received the name of Udayabhadda, or Welcome. At the time when the lad could walk upon his feet, another being came into this world from the world of Brahma, and became a girl child in the womb of another of this king's wives, and she was named with the same name, Udayabhaddā.
When the Prince came of years, he attained a mastery in all branches of education; [105] more, he was chaste to a degree, and knew nothing of the deeds of the flesh, not even in dream, nor was his heart bent on sinfulness. The king desired 1 to make his son king, with the solemn sprinkling, and to arrange plays for his pleasure; and gave command accordingly. But the Bodhisatta replied, "I do not want the kingdom, and my heart is not bent on sinfulness." Again and again he was entreated, but his reply was to have made a woman's image of red gold, which he sent to his parents, with the message, "When I find such a woman as this, I will accept the kingdom." This golden image they dispatched over all India, but found no woman like to it. Then they deckt out Udayabhaddā very fine, and confronted her with the image; and her beauty surpassed it as she stood. Then they wedded her to the Bodhisatta for consort, against their wills though it were, his own sister the Princess Udayabhaddā, born of a different mother, and sprinkled him to be king.
These two lived together a life of chastity. In course of time, when his parents were dead, the Bodhisatta ruled the realm. The two dwelt together in one chamber, yet denied their senses, and never so much as looked upon one another in the way of desire; nay, a promise they even made, that which of them soever should first die, he should return to the other from his place of new birth, and say, "In such a place am I born again."
Now from the time of his sprinkling the Bodhisatta lived seven hundred years, and then he died. Other king there was none, the commands of Udayabhaddā were promulgated, the courtiers administered the kingdom. The Bodhisatta had become Sakka in the Heaven of the Thirty-three, and by the magnificence of his glory was for seven days unable to remember the past. So he after the course of seven hundred years, according to man's reckoning 2, remembered, and said to himself, "To the king's daughter Udayabhaddā I will go, and I will test her with

riches, and roaring with the roar of a lion I will discourse, and will fulfil my promise!"
In that age they say that the length of man's life was ten thousand years. Now at that time, it being the time of night, the palace doors were fast closed, and the guard set, and the king's daughter was sitting quiet and alone, in a magnificent chamber upon the fine terrace of her seven-storeyed mansion, [106] meditating upon her own virtue. Then Sakka took a golden dish filled with coins all of gold, and in her very sleeping-chamber appeared before her; and standing on one side, began speech with her by reciting the first stanza:

"Thee flawless in thy beauty, pure and bright,
Thee sitting lonely on this terrace-height,
    In pose most graceful, eyed like nymphs of heaven,
I pray thee, let me spend with thee this night!"

To this the princess made answer in the two stanzas following:

"To this battlemented city, dug with moats, approach is hard,
While its trenches and its towers hand and sword unite to guard.

"Not the young and not the mighty entrance here can lightly gain;
Tell me—what can be the reason why to meet me thou art fain?"
Then Sakka recited the fourth stanza:
[107]

"I, fair beauty, am a Goblin, I that now appear to thee:
Grant to me thy favour, lady, this full bowl receive from me."

On hearing which the princess replied by repeating the fifth stanza:

"I ask for none, since Udaya has died,
Nor god nor goblin, no nor man, beside:
    Therefore, O mighty Goblin, get thee gone,
Come no more hither, but far off abide."

Hearing her lion's note, he stood not, but made as though to depart; and at once disappeared. Next day at the same hour, he took a silver bowl filled with golden coins and addrest her by repeating the sixth stanza:

"That chiefest joy, to lovers known completely,
    Which makes men do full many an evil thing,
Despise not thou, O lady, smiling sweetly:
    See, a full bowl of silver here I bring!"

Then the princess began to think, "If I allow him to talk and prate, he will come again and again. I will have nothing to say to him now." [108] So she said nothing at all. Sakka finding that she had nothing to say, disappeared at once from his place.
Next day, at the same time, he took an iron bowl full of coins, and said, "Lady, if you will bless me with your love, I will give this iron bowl full of coins to you." When she saw him, the princess repeated the seventh stanza:

"Men that would woo a woman, raise and raise
The bids of gold, till she their will obeys.
    The gods' ways differ, as I judge by thee:
Thou comest now with less than other days."

The Great Being, when he heard these words, made reply, "Lady Princess, I am a wary trader, and I waste not my substance for nought. If you were increasing in youth or beauty, I would also increase the present I offer you; but you are fading, and so I make the offering dwindle also." So saying, he repeated three stanzas

"O woman! youthful bloom and beauty fade
Within this world of men, thou fair-limbed maid.
    And thou to-day art older grown than erst,
So dwindles less the sum I would have paid.

"Thus, glorious daughter of a king, before my gazing eyes
As goes the flight of day and night thy beauty fades and dies.
"But if, O daughter of a king most wise, it pleases thee
Holy and pure to aye endure, more lovely shalt thou be!"
[109] Hereupon the princess repeated another stanza:

"The gods are not like men, they grow not old;
Upon their flesh is seen no wrinkled fold.
    How is’t the gods have no corporeal frame?
This, mighty Goblin, I would now be told!"

Then Sakka explained the matter by repeating another stanza:

"The gods are not like men: they grow not old;
Upon their flesh is seen no wrinkled fold:
    To-morrow and to-morrow ever more
Celestial beauty grows, and bliss untold."

[110] When she heard the beauty of the world of gods, she asked the way to go thither in another stanza:

"What terrifies so many mortals here?
I ask thee, mighty Goblin, to make clear
That path, in such diversity explained:
How faring heavenwards need no one fear?"

Then Sakka explained the matter in another stanza:

"Who keeps in due control both voice and mind,
    Who with the body loves not sin to do,
Within whose house much food and drink we find,
    Large-handed, bounteous, in all faith all true,
Of favours free, soft-tongued, of kindly cheer—
He that so walks to heaven need nothing fear."

[111] When the princess had heard his words, she rendered thanks in another stanza:

"Like a mother, like a father, Goblin, you admonish me:
Mighty one, O beauteous being, tell me, tell me who you be?"

Then the Bodhisatta repeated another stanza:

"I am Udaya, fair lady, for my promise come to thee:
Now I go, for I have spoken; from the promise I am free."

The princess drew a deep breath, and said, "You are King Udayabhadda, my lord!" then burst into a flood of tears, and added, "Without you I cannot live! Instruct me, that I may live with you always!" So saying she repeated another stanza:

"If thou’rt Udaya, come hither for thy promise—truly he—,
Then instruct me, that together we, O prince, again may be!"

Then he repeated four stanzas by way of instruction:

"Youth passes soon: a moment—’tis gone by;
No standing-place is firm: all creatures die
    To new life born: this fragile frame decays:
Then be not careless, walk in piety.

"If the whole earth with all her wealth could be
The realm of one sole king to hold in fee,
    A holy saint would leave him in the race:
Then be not careless, walk in piety.
[112] "Mother and father, brother-kin, and she
(The wife) who with a price can purchased be,
    They go, and each the other leave behind:
Then be not careless, walk in piety.
"Remember that this body food shall be
For others; joy alike and misery,
    A passing hour, as life succeeds to life:
Then be not careless, walk in piety."
In this manner discoursed the Great Being. The lady being pleased with the discoursing, rendered thanks in the words of the last stanza:
[113]

"Sweet the saying of this Goblin: brief the life that mortals know,
Sad it is, and short, and with it comes inseparable woe.
I renounce the world: from Kāsi, from Surundhana, I go."

Having thus discoursed to her, the Bodhisatta went back to his own place.
The princess next day entrusted her courtiers with the government; and in that very city of hers, in a delightsome park, she became a recluse. There she lived righteously, until at the end of her days she was born again in the Heaven of the Thirty-three, as the Bodhisatta's handmaiden.

---

When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified the Birth: (now at the conclusion of the Truths, the backsliding Brother was established in the fruit of the First Path:)—"At that time Rāhula's mother was the Princess, and Sakka was I myself."

Footnotes

66:1 Cf. Ananusociya-jātaka, No. 328 in vol. iii.
66:2 No. 531.
67:1 In the text, the King's words should begin at the word puttaṁ, as the context shows.
67:2 Does this mean that Sakka's day equals 100 of our years?

No. 459.

PĀNĪYA-JĀTAKA.

"The water-draught," etc. This story the Master told, whilst dwelling in Jetavana, about the subduing of evil passions.
At one time, we learn, five hundred citizens of Sāvatthi, being householders and friends of the Tathāgata, had heard the Law and had renounced the world, and been ordained as priests. Living in the house of the Golden Pavement, at midnight they indulged in thoughts of sin. (All the details are to be understood as in a previous story 1.) At the command of the Blessed One, the Brotherhood was assembled by the Venerable Ānanda. The Master sat in the appointed seat, and without asking them, "Do you indulge in thoughts of sin?" he addressed them comprehensively and in general terms: "Brethren, there is no such thing as a petty sin. A Brother must check all sins as they each arise. Wise men of old, before the Buddha came, subdued their sins and attained to the knowledge of a Pacceka-Buddha." With these words, he told there a story of the past.

---

[114] Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, there were two friends in a certain village in the kingdom of Kāsi. These had gone afield, taking with them vessels for drinking, which they laid out of the way as they broke the clods, and when they were thirsty, went and drank water out of them. One of them, on going for a drink, husbanded the water in his own pot, and drank out of the pot of the other. In the evening, when he came out from the woodland, and had bathed, he stood thinking. "Have I done any sin to-day," thought he, "either by the door of the body, or any other?" 2 Then he remembered how he drank the stolen water, and grief came upon him, and he cried, "If this thirst grows upon me, it will bring me to some evil birth! I will subdue my sin." So with this stolen draught of water for cause 3, he gradually acquired supernatural insight, and attained the knowledge of a Pacceka-Buddha; and there he stood, reflecting upon the knowledge which he had attained.
Now the other man, having bathed, got up, saying, "Come, friend, let us go home." Said the other, "Go home thou, home is nothing to me, I am a Pacceka-Buddha." "Pooh! are Pacceka-Buddhas like you?" "What are they like, then?" "Hair two fingers long, yellow robes they wear, in Nandamūla cave they live high up in Himalaya." The other stroked his head: in that very moment the marks of a layman disappeared,

a pair of red cloths were wrapt round him, a waist-band yellow like a flash of lightning was about him tied, the upper robe of the colour of red lac was thrown over one shoulder, a dust-heap ragged cloth dingy as a storm-cloud lay on his shoulder, a bee-brown earthen bowl dangled from over his left shoulder; there he stood poised in mid-air, and having delivered a discourse, he rose and descended not until he came to the mountain-cave of Nandamūla.
Another man, who also lived in a village of Kāsi, a land-owner, was sitting in the bazaar, when he saw a man approach leading his wife. Seeing her (and she was a woman of surpassing beauty) he broke the moral principles, and looked upon her; then again he thought, "This desire, if it increases, will cast me into some evil birth." Being exercised in mind, he developed supernatural insight, and attained the knowledge of a Pacceka Buddha; then poised in the air, he delivered a discourse, [115] and he also went to the Nandamūla cave 1.
Villagers of a place in Kāsi were likewise two, a father and a son, who were going on a journey together. At the entering in of a forest were robbers posted. These robbers, if they took a father and son together, would keep the son with them, and send the father away, saying, "Bring back a ransom for your son": or if two brothers, they kept the younger and sent the elder away; or if teacher and pupil, they kept the teacher and sent the pupil,—and the pupil for love of learning would bring money and release his teacher. Now when this father and son saw the robbers lying in wait, the father said, "Don't you call me "father," and I will not call you "son"."And so they agreed. So when the robbers came up, and asked how they stood to one another, they replied, "We are nothing to one another," thus telling a premeditated lie. When they came out of the forest, and were resting after the evening bath, the son examined his own virtue, and remembering this lie, he thought, "This sin, if it increases, will plunge me in some evil birth. I will subdue my sin!" Then he developed supernatural insight, and attained to the knowledge of a Pacceka-Buddha, and poised in the air delivered a discourse to his father, and he too went to the Nandamūla cave.
In a village of Kāsi also lived a zemindar, who laid an interdict upon all slaughter. Now when the time came when offering was wont to be made to the spirits, a great crowd gathered, and said, "My lord! this is the time for sacrifice: let us slay deer and swine and other animals, and make offering to the Goblins," he replied, "Do as you have done aforetime." The people made a great slaughter. The man seeing a great quantity of fish and flesh, thought to himself, "All these living creatures the men have slain, and all because of my word alone!" He repented: and as he stood

by the window, he developed supernatural insight, and attained to the knowledge of a Pacceka-Buddha, and poised in the air delivered a discourse, then he too went to the Nandamūla cave.
Another zemindar who lived in the kingdom of Kāsi, prohibited the sale of strong drink. A crowd of people cried out to him, "My lord, what shall we do? It is the time-honoured drinking festival!" He replied, "Do as you have always done aforetime." [116] The people made their festival, and drank strong drink, and fell a-quarrelling; there were broken legs and arms, and cracked crowns, and ears torn off, and many a penalty was inflicted for it. The zemindar seeing this, thought to himself, "If I had not permitted this, they would not have suffered this misery." Even for this trifle he felt remorse: then he developed supernatural insight, and attained the knowledge of a Pacceka-Buddha, poised in the air he discoursed, and bade them be vigilant, then he too went to the Nandamūla cave.
Some time afterwards, the five Pacceka-Buddhas all alighted at the gate of Benares, seeking for alms. Their upper robe and lower robe neatly arranged, with gracious address they went on their rounds, and came to the gate of the King's palace. The King was much pleased to behold them; he invited them into his palace, and washed their feet, anointed them with fragrant oil, set before them savoury food both hard and soft, and sitting on one side, thus addressed them: "Sirs, that you in your youth have embraced the ascetic life, is beautiful; at this age, you have become ascetics, and you see the misery of evil lusts. What was the cause of your action?" They replied as follows:

"The water-draught of my own friend, although a, friend, I stole:
Loathing the sin which I had done, I afterwards was fain
To leave the world, an eremite, lest I should sin again."

"I looked upon another's wife; lust rose within my soul:
Loathing the sin which I had done, I afterwards was fain
To leave the world, an eremite, lest I should sin again."
"Thieves caught my father in a wood: to whom I did forth tell
That he was other than he was—a lie, I knew it well:
Loathing the sin," etc.
"The people at a drinking-feast full many beasts did kill,
    And not against my will:
Loathing the sin," etc.
"Those persons who in former times of liquors drank their fill,
Now carried out a drinking-bout, whence many suffered ill,
[117]     And not against my will.
Loathing the sin which I had done, I afterwards was fain
To leave the world, an eremite, lest I should sin again."
These five stanzas they repeated one after the other.
When the king had heard the explanation of each, he uttered his praise, saying, "Sirs, your asceticism becomes you well."

The king was delighted at the discourse of these men. He bestowed upon them cloth for outer and inner garments, and medicines, then let the Pacceka-Buddhas go away. They thanked him, and returned to the place whence they came. Ever after that the king loathed the pleasures of sense, was free from desire, ate 1 his choice and dainty food, but to women he would not speak, would not look at them, rose up disgusted at heart and retired to his magnificent chamber, and there he sat: stared at a white wall until he fell into a trance, and conceived within him the rapture of mystic meditation. In this rapture rapt, he recited a stanza in dispraise of desire:

"Out on it, out on lust, I say, unsavoury, thorn-beset!
Never, though long I followed wrong, such joy as this I met!"

[118] Then his chief queen thought to herself, "That king heard the discoursing of the Pacceka-Buddhas, and now he never speaks to us, but buries himself despondent in his magnificent chamber. I must take him in hand." So she came to the door of that lordly chamber, and standing at the door, heard the king's rapturous utterances, in dispraise of desire. She said, "O mighty king, you speak ill of desire! but there is no joy like the joy of sweet desire!" Then in praise of desire she repeated another stanza:

"Great is the joy of sweet desire: no greater joy than love:
Who follow this attain the bliss of paradise above!"

Hearing this, the king made reply: "Perish, vile jade! What sayst thou? Whence comes the joy of desire? There are miseries which come to pay for it" : with which he uttered the remaining stanzas in dispraise:

"Ill-tasting, painful is desire, there is no worser woe:
Who follow sin are sure to win the pains of hell below.

"Than sword well whetted, or a blade implacable, athirst,
Than knives deep driven in the heart, desires are more accurst.
"A pit as deep as men are tall, where live coals blazing are,
A ploughshare heated in the sun,—desires are worser far.
"A poison very venomous, an oil of little ease 2,
Or that vile thing to copper clings 3—desires are worse than these."
[119] Thus the Great Being discoursed to his consort. Then he gathered his courtiers, and said, "O courtiers, do you manage the kingdom: I am about to renounce the world." Amidst the wailing and lamentation of a great multitude, he rose before them, and poised in the air, delivered a discourse. Then along the path of the wind he past to furthest Himalaya, and in a delightsome spot builded a

hermitage; there he lived the life of a sage, until at the end of his days he became destined for the world of Brahma.

---

The Master, having ended this discourse, added, "Brethren, there is no such thing as a petty sin: the very smallest must be checked by a wise man." Then he declared the Truths, and identified the Birth (now at the conclusion of the Truths the five hundred Brethren became established in sainthood):—"At that time the Pacceka-Buddhas attained Nirvāna, Rāhula's mother was the queen consort, and I myself was the king."

Footnotes

71:1 See on No. 412, vol. ii.
71:2 i.e. word, or thought.
71:3 That is, he made this the subject of his meditation (ārammaṇaṁ), and thus sunk into an ecstatic trance.
72:1 Cf., Vidabbha-jātaka, vol. i. no. 48
74:1 Ought we to read abhuñjitvā, "did not care to eat"?
74:2 "Extracted oil"? (Cf. Suçruta, I. 181). Apparently some kind of poison.
74:3 Verdigris.

No. 460.

YUVAÑJAYA-JĀTAKA.

"I greet the lord," etc. This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, about the Great Renunciation 1. One day the Brethren had assembled in the Hall of Truth. "Brother," one would say to his fellow, "the Dasabala 2 might have dwelt in a house, he might have been an universal monarch in the centre of the great world, possessed of the Seven Precious Things, glorious with the Four Supernatural Faculties 3, surrounded with sons more than a thousand! Yet all this magnificence he renounced when he perceived the bane that lies in desires. At midnight, with Channa in company, he mounted his horse Kanthaka, and departed: on the banks of Anomā, the River Glorious, he renounced the world, and for six years he tormented himself with austerities, and then attained to perfect wisdom." Thus talked they of the Buddha's virtues. The Master entering, asked, "What are you speaking of now, Brethren, as ye sit here?" They told him. Said the Master, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that the Tathāgata has made the Great Renunciation. In days of yore he retired and gave up the kingdom of Benares City, which was twelve leagues in extent." So saying, he told a story of the past.

---

Once upon a time a king named Sabbadatta reigned in the city of Ramma. The place which we now call Benares is named Surundhana City in the Udaya Birth 4, and Sudassana in the Cullasutasoma 5Birth, and
  Brahmavaddhana in the Soṇandana 1 Birth, and Pupphavatī in the Khaṇḍahāla 2 Birth: [120] but in this Yuvañjaya Birth it is named Ramma City. In this manner its name changes on each several occasion. At that time the king Sabbadatta had a thousand sons; and to his eldest son Yuvañjana he gave the viceroyalty.
One day early in the morning he mounted his splendid chariot, and in great pomp went to disport him in the park. On the tree-tops, on the grass-tips, at the ends of the branches, on all the spiders' webs and threads, on the points of the rushes, he saw the dew-drops hanging like so many strings of pearls. "Friend charioteer," quoth he, "what is this?" "This, my lord," he replied, "is what falls in the cold weather, and they call it dew." The prince took his pleasure in the park for a portion of the day. In the evening, as he was returning home, he could see none of it. "Friend charioteer," said he, "where are the dew-drops? I do not see them now." "My lord," said the other, "as the sun rises higher, they all melt and sink into the ground." On hearing this, the prince was distressed, and said, "The life of us living beings is fashioned like dew-drops on the grass. I must be rid of the oppression of disease, old age, and death; I must take leave of my parents, and renounce the world." So because of the dew-drops, he perceived the Three modes of Existence 3 as it were in a blazing fire. When he came home, he went into the presence of his father in his magnificent Hall of Judgement, and greeting his father, he stood on one side, and repeated the first stanza, asking his leave to renounce the world:

"I greet the lord of charioteers with friends and courtiers by:
The world, O King! I would renounce: let not my lord deny."

Then the king repeated the second stanza, dissuading him:

"If aught thou crave, Yuvañjana, I will fulfil it quite:
If any hurt thee, I protect: be thou no eremite."

[121] Hearing this, the prince recited the third stanza:

"No man there is that does me harm: my wishes nothing lack:
But I would seek a refuge, where old age makes no attack."

---

By way of explaining this matter, the Master uttered a half-stanza:

"The son speaks to his father thus, the father to his son":

The remaining half-stanza was uttered by the king:

"Leave not the world, O prince! so cry the townsfolk every one."

The prince again repeated this stanza:

"O do not from the unworldly life, great monarch, make me stay,
Lest I, intoxicate with lusts, to age become a prey!"

This said, the king hesitated. Then the mother was told, "Your son, my lady, is asking his father's leave to renounce the world." "What do you say?" she asked. It took her breath away. Seated in her litter of gold she went swiftly to the Hall of Judgement, and repeating the sixth stanza, asked:

"I beg thee, it is I, my dear, and I would make thee stay!
Long wish I thee, my son, to see: O do not go away!"

[122] On hearing which the prince repeated the seventh stanza:

"Like as the dew upon the grass, when the sun rises hot,
So is the life of mortal men: O mother, stay me not!"

When he had said this, she begged him again and again to the same effect. Then the Great Being addressed his father in the eighth stanza:

"Let those that bear this litter, lift: let not my mother stay
Me, mighty king! from entering upon my holy way 1."

When the king heard his son's words, he said, "Go, lady, in your litter, back to our palace of Perennial Delight." At his words her feet failed her: and surrounded with her company of women, she departed, and entered the palace, and stood looking towards the Hall of Judgement, and wondering what news of her son. After his mother's departure the Bodhisatta again asked leave of his father. The king could not refuse him, and said, "Have thy will, then, dear son, and renounce the world."
When this consent was gained, the Bodhisatta's youngest brother, Prince Yudhiṭṭhila, greeted his father, and likewise asked leave to follow the religious life, and the king consented. Both brothers bade their father farewell, and having now renounced worldly lusts departed from the Hall of Judgement, amidst a great company of people. The queen looking upon the Great Being cried weeping, "My son has renounced the world, and the city of Ramma will be empty!" Then she repeated a couple of stanzas:

"Make haste, and bless thee! empty now is Rammaka, I trow:
King Sabbadatta has allowed Yuvañjana to go.

[123] "The eldest of a thousand, he, like gold to look upon,
This mighty prince has left the world the yellow robe to don."
The Bodhisatta did not at once embrace the religious life. No, he first bade farewell to his parents; then taking with him his youngest brother, Prince Yudhiṭṭhila, he left the city, and sending back the great

multitude which followed them, they both made their way to Himalaya. There in a delightsome spot they built a hermitage, and embraced the life of a holy sage, and cultivating the transcendent rapture of meditation, they lived all their lives long upon the fruits and roots of the forest, and became destined for the world of Brahma.

---

This matter is explained in the stanza of perfect wisdom which comes last:

"Yuvañjana, Yudhiṭṭhila, in holy life remain:
Their father and their mother left, they break in two death's chain."

When the Master had ended this discourse, he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that the Tathāgata renounced a kingdom to follow the religious life, but it was the same before;" then he identified the Birth:—"At that time members of the present king's family were the father and mother, Ānanda was Yudhiṭṭhila, and I was Yuvañjana myself."

Footnotes

75:1 Buddha's retirement from the world: Hardy, Manual, pp. 158 ff.; Warren, Buddhism in Translations, § 6.
75:2 Buddha: one who possesses the Ten Powers or Ten Kinds of Knowledge.
75:3 See iii. 454 (p. 272 of this translation).
75:4 No. 458.
75:5 No. 525.
76:1 No. 532.
76:2 No. 542.
76:3 Kāmabhavo, rūpabhavo, arūpabhavo: sense-existence, body-existence (where there is form, but no sensual enjoyment), formless-existence. See Hardy, Manual of Budhism, p. 3, for a fuller account.
77:1 Tarati means technically to "flee from the City of Destruction."

Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Professor E B Cowell ji and  W H D Rouse ji for the collection)