THE JĀTAKA
OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS
No. 432.
PADAKUSALAMĀṆAVA-JĀTAKA.
"O Pāṭala, by Ganges," etc.—This story the Master dwelling at Jetavana told concerning a certain boy. He was, they say, the son of a householder at Sāvatthi, just seven years old, and skilled in recognizing footsteps. Now his father being minded to prove him went without his knowing it to a friend's house. The boy, without even asking where his father had gone, by tracing his footsteps, came and stood before him. So his father one day asked him saying, "When I went off without telling you, how did you know where I was gone?" [502] "My dear father, I recognized your footsteps. I am skilled in this way." Then his father, to prove him, went out of his house after the early meal, and going into his next-door neighbour's house, from it passed into another, and from this third house again returned to his own home, and thence made his way to the North gate, and passing out by it made a circuit of the city from right to left. And coming to Jetavana he saluted the Master and sat down to listen to the Law. The boy asked where his father was, and when they said, "We do not know," by tracing his father's steps, and starting from the next-door neighbour's house he went by the same road by which his father had travelled to Jetavana, and after saluting the Master stood in the presence of his father, and when asked by him, how he knew that he had come here, he said, "I recognized your footsteps and following in your track came hither." The Master asked, "Lay Brother, what are you saying?" He answered, "Your Reverence, this boy is skilled in knowing footsteps. To test him I came hither in such and such a manner. Not finding me at home, by following in my footsteps, he arrived here." "There is no marvel," said the Master, "in recognizing steps upon the ground. Sages of old recognized steps in the air," and on being asked, he told a story of the past.for him, and instead of devouring him she made him her husband, and they lived harmoniously together. And thenceforth the Yakkha whenever she captured men, also took their clothes and rice and oil and the like, and serving him with various dainty food she herself would eat man's flesh. And whenever she went away, for fear of his escaping, she closed the mouth of the cave with a huge stone before leaving. And while they were thus living amicably together, the Bodhisatta passing from his former existence was conceived in the womb of the Yakkha by the brahmin. After ten months she gave birth to a son, and filled with love for the brahmin and her child, she fed them both. By and bye when the boy was grown up, she put him also inside the cave with his father, and closed the door. Now one day the Bodhisatta knowing she had gone away removed the stone and let his father. out. And when she asked on her return who had removed the stone, he said, "I did, mother: we cannot sit in darkness." And through love for her child she did not say another word. Now one day the Bodhisatta asked his father, saying, "Dear father, your mouth is different from my mother's; what is the reason?" "My son, your mother is a Yakkha and lives on man's flesh, but you and I are men." "If so, why do we live here? Come, we will go to the haunts of men." "My dear boy, if we shall try to escape, your mother will kill us both." The Bodhisatta reassured his father and said, "Do not be afraid, dear father; that you shall return to the haunts of men shall be my charge." And next day when his mother had gone away, he took his father and fled. When the Yakkha returned and missed them, she rushed forward with the swiftness of the wind and caught them and said, "O brahmin, why do you run away? Is there anything that you want here?" "My dear," he said, "do not be angry with me. [504] Your son carried me off with him." And without another word, owing to her love for her child, she comforted them and making for her place of abode she brought them back after a flight of some days. The Bodhisatta thought, "My mother must have a limited sphere of action. Suppose I were to ask her the limits of space over which her authority extends. Then I will escape by going beyond this." So one day sitting respectfully near his mother he said, "My dear, that which belongs to a mother comes to the children; tell me now what is the boundary of our ground." She told him all the landmarks, mountains and such like in all directions, and pointed out to her son the space, thirty leagues long and five leagues broad, and said, "Consider it to be so much, my son." After the lapse of two or three days, when his mother had gone to the forest, he put his father on his shoulder and rushing on with the swiftness of the wind, by the hint given him by his mother, he reached the bank of the river that was the limit. The mother too, when on her return she missed them, pursued after them. The Bodhisatta carried his father into the middle of the river, and she
came and stood on the river bank, and when she saw that they had passed beyond the limits of her sphere, she stopped where she was, and cried, "My dear child, come here with your father. What is my offence? In what respect do not things go well with you? Come back, my lord." Thus did she beseech her child and husband. So the brahmin crossed the river. She prayed to her child also, and said, "Dear son, do not act after this sort: come back again." "Mother, we are men: you are a Yakkha. We cannot always abide with you." "And will you not return?" "No, mother." "Then if you refuse to return—as it is painful to live in the world of men, and they who know not any craft cannot live—I am skilled in the lore of the philosopher's stone: by its power, one can follow after the lapse of twelve years in the steps of those that have gone away. This will prove a livelihood to you. Take, my child, this invaluable charm." And though overcome by such great sorrow, through love of her child, she gave him the charm. [505] The Bodhisatta, still standing in the river, folded his hands tortoise-wise and took the charm, and saluting his mother cried, "Good-bye, mother." The Yakkha said, "If you do not return, my son, I cannot live," and she smote upon her breast, and straightway in sorrow for her son her heart was broken and she fell down dead on the spot. The Bodhisatta, when he knew his mother was dead, called to his father and went and made a funeral pile and burned her body. After extinguishing the flames, he made offerings of various coloured flowers, and with weeping and lamentation returned with his father to Benares.
It was told the king, "A youth skilled in tracking footsteps is standing at the door." And when the king bade him enter, he came in and saluted the king. "My friend," he said, "do you know any craft?" "My lord, following on the track of one who has stolen any property twelve years ago, I can catch him." "Then enter my service," said the king. "I will serve you for a thousand pieces of money daily." "Very well, friend, you shall serve me." And the king had him paid a thousand pieces of money daily. Now one day the family priest said to the king, "My lord, because this youth does nothing by the power of his art, we do not know whether he has any skill or not: we will now test him." The king readily agreed, and the pair gave notice to the keepers of the various treasures, and taking the most valuable jewels descended from the terrace, and after groping their way three times round the palace, they placed a ladder on the top of the wall and by means of it descended to the outside. Then they entered the Hall of Justice, and after sitting there they returned and again placing the ladder on the wall descended by it into the city. Coming to the edge of a tank they thrice marched solemnly round it, and then dropped their treasure in the tank, and climbed back to the terrace. [506] Next day there was a great outcry and men said, "Treasure has been stolen from the palace." The king pretending ignorance summoned
the Bodhisatta and said, "Friend, much valuable treasure has been stolen from the palace: we must trace it." "My lord, for one who is able to follow the traces of robbers and recover treasure stolen twelve years ago, there is nothing marvellous in his recovering stolen property after a single day and night. I will recover it; do not be troubled." "Then recover it, friend." "Very well, my lord," he said, and went and saluting his mother's memory he repeated the spell, still standing on the terrace, and said, "My lord, the steps of two thieves are to be seen." And following in the steps of the king and the priest he entered the royal closet, and issuing thence he descended from the terrace, and after thrice making a circuit of the palace he drew near the wall. Standing on it he said, "My lord, starting in this place from the wall I see footsteps in the air: bring me a ladder." And having had a ladder placed for him against the wall, he descended by it, and still following in their track he came to the Hall of Justice. Then returning to the palace he had the ladder planted against the wall, and descending by it he came to the tank. After thrice marching round it he said, "My lord, the thieves went down into this tank," and taking out the treasure, as if he had deposited it there himself, he gave it to the king and said, "My lord, these two thieves are men of distinction: by this way they climbed up into the palace." The people snapped their fingers in a high state of delight, and there was a great waving of cloths. The king thought, "This youth, methinks, by following in their steps knows the place where the thieves put the treasure, but the thieves he cannot catch." Then he said, "You at once brought us the property carried off by the thieves, but will you be able to catch the thieves and bring them to us?" "My lord, the thieves are here: they are not far off." [507] "Who are they?" "Great king, let any one that likes be the thief. From the time you recovered your treasure, why should you want the thieves? Do not ask about that." "Friend, I pay you daily a thousand pieces of money: bring the thieves to me." "Sire, when the treasure is recovered, what need of the thieves?" "It is better, friend, for us to catch the thieves than to recover the treasure." "Then, sire, I will not tell you, "So and so are the thieves," but I will tell you a thing that happened long ago. If you are wise, you will know what it means." And herewith he told an old tale.
Once upon a time, sire, a certain dancer named Pāṭala lived not far from Benares, in a village on the river's bank. One day he went into Benares with his wife and after gaining money by his singing and dancing, at the end of the fēte he procured some rice and strong drink. On his way to his own village he came to the bank of the river, and sat down watching the freshly flowing stream, to drink his strong drink. When he was drunk and unconscious of his weakness, he said, "I will fasten my big lute about my neck and go down into the river." And he took his
wife by the hand and went down into the river. The water entered into the holes of the lute, and then the weight of his lute made him begin to sink. But when his wife saw he was sinking, she let go of him and went up out of the river and stood upon the bank. The dancer Pāṭala now rises and now sinks, and his belly became swollen from swallowing the water. So his wife thought, "My husband will now die: I will beg of him one song, and by singing this in the midst of the people, I shall earn my living." And saying, "My lord, you are sinking in the water: give me just one song, and I will earn my living by it," she spoke this stanza:
[508]
O Pāṭala,
by Ganges swept away,
Famous in dance and, skilled in roundelay,
Pāṭala, all hail! as thou art borne along,
Sing me, I pray, some little snatch of song.
Then the dancer Pāṭala said,
"My dear, how shall I give you a little song? The water that has been the
salvation of the people is killing me," and he spoke a stanza:Famous in dance and, skilled in roundelay,
Pāṭala, all hail! as thou art borne along,
Sing me, I pray, some little snatch of song.
Wherewith are sprinkled fainting souls
in pain,
I straight am killed. My refuge proved my bane.
The Bodhisatta in explanation of this stanza said: "Sire,
even as water is the refuge of the people, so also is it with kings. If danger
arises from them, who shall avert that danger? This, sire, is a secret matter.
I have told a story intelligible to the wise: understand it, sire."
"Friend, I understand not a hidden story like this. Catch the thieves and
bring them to me." Then the Bodhisatta said, "Hear then this, sire,
and understand." And he told yet another tale.I straight am killed. My refuge proved my bane.
"My lord, formerly in a village outside the city gates of Benares, a potter used to fetch clay for his pottery, and constantly getting it in the same place he dug a deep pit inside a mountain-cave. Now one day while he was getting the clay, an unseasonable storm-cloud sprang up, and let fall a heavy rain, and the flood overwhelmed and threw down the side of the pit, and the man's head was broken by it. Loudly lamenting he spoke this stanza:
That by which seeds do grow, man to
sustain,
Has crushed my head. My refuge proved my bane.
"For even as the mighty earth, sire, which is the refuge of
the people, broke the potter's head, even so when a king, who like the mighty
earth is the refuge of the whole world, rises up and plays the thief, who shall
avert the danger? Can you, sire, [509] recognize the thief hidden under the
guise of this story?" "Friend, we do not want any hidden meaning.
Say, "Here is the thief," and catch him and hand him over to
me."Has crushed my head. My refuge proved my bane.
Still shielding the king and without saying in words, "Thou art the thief," he told yet another story.
In this very city, sire, a certain man's house was on fire. He ordered another man to go into the house and bring out his property. When this man had entered the house and was bringing out his goods, the door was shut. Blinded with smoke and unable to find his way out and tormented by the rising flame, he remained inside lamenting, and spoke this stanza:
That which destroys the cold, and
parches grain,
Consumes my limbs. My refuge proves my bane.
"A man, O king, who like fire was the refuge of the people,
stole the bundle of jewels. Do not ask me about the thief." "Friend,
just bring me the thief." Without telling the king that he was a thief, he
told yet another story.Consumes my limbs. My refuge proves my bane.
Once, sire, in this very city a man ate to excess and was unable to digest his food. Maddened with pain and lamenting he spoke this stanza:
Food on which countless brahmins life
sustain
Killed me outright. My refuge proved my bane.
"One, who like rice, sire, was the refuge of the people,
stole the property. When that is recovered, why ask about the thief?"
"Friend, if you can, bring me the thief." To make the king
comprehend, he told yet another story.Killed me outright. My refuge proved my bane.
[510] Formerly, sire, in this very city a wind arose and broke a certain man's limbs. Lamenting he spoke this stanza:
Wind that in June wise men by prayer
would gain,
My limbs doth break. My refuge proved my bane.
"Thus, sire, did danger arise from my refuge. Understand this
story." "Friend, bring me the thief." To make the king
understand, he told him yet another story.My limbs doth break. My refuge proved my bane.
Once upon a time, sire, on the side of the Himālayas grew a tree with forked branches, the dwelling-place of countless birds. Two of its boughs rubbed against one another. Hence arose smoke, and sparks of fire were let fall. On seeing this the chief bird uttered this stanza:
Flame issues from the tree where we
have lain:
Scatter, ye birds. Our refuge proves our bane.
"For just as, sire, the tree is the refuge of birds, so is
the king the refuge of his people. Should he play the thief, who shall avert
the danger? Take note of this, sire." "Friend, only bring me the
thief." Then he told the king yet another story.Scatter, ye birds. Our refuge proves our bane.
In a village of Benares, sire, on the western side of a gentleman's house was a river full of savage crocodiles, and in this family was an only son, who on the death of his father watched over his mother. His mother against his will brought home a gentleman's daughter as his wife. At
first she showed affection for her mother-in-law, but afterwards when blest with numerous sons and daughters of her own, she wished to get rid of her. Her own mother also lived in the same house. In her husband's presence she found all manner of fault with her mother-in-law, to prejudice him against her, saying, "I cannot possibly support your mother: you must kill her." [511] And when he answered, "Murder is a serious matter: how am I to kill her? " she said, "When she has fallen asleep, we will take her, bed and all, and throw her into the crocodile river. Then the crocodiles will make an end of her." "And where is your mother?" he said. "She sleeps in the same room as your mother." "Then go and set a mark on the bed on which she lies, by fastening a rope on it." She did so, and said, "I have put a mark on it." The husband said, "Excuse me a moment; let the people go to bed first." And he lay down pretending to go to sleep, and then went and fastened the rope on his mother-in-law's bed. Then he woke his wife, and they went together and lifting her up, bed and all, threw her into the river. And the crocodiles there killed and ate her. Next day she found out what had happened to her own mother and said, "My lord, my mother is dead, now let us kill yours." "Very well then," he said, "we will make a funeral pile in the cemetery, and cast her into the fire and kill her." So the man and his wife took her while she was asleep to the cemetery, and deposited her there. Then the husband said to his wife, "Have you brought any fire?" "I have forgotten it, my lord." "Then go and fetch it." "I dare not go, my lord, and if you go, I dare not stay here: we will go together." When they were gone, the old woman was awakened by the cold wind, and finding it was a cemetery, she thought, "They wish to kill me: they are gone to fetch fire. They do not know how strong I am." And she stretched a corpse on the bed and covered it over with a cloth, and ran away and hid herself in a mountain cave in that same place. The husband and wife brought the fire and taking the corpse to be the old woman they burned it and went away. A certain robber had left his bundle in this mountain cave and coming back to fetch it he saw the old woman and thought, "This must be a Yakkha: my bundle is possessed by goblins," and he fetched a devil-doctor. The doctor uttered a spell and entered the cave. Then she said to him, "I am no Yakkha: come, we will enjoy this treasure together." "How is this to be believed?" "Place your tongue on my tongue." He did so, and she bit a piece off his tongue and let it drop to the ground. The devil-doctor thought, "This is certainly a Yakkha," and he cried aloud and fled away, with the blood dripping from his tongue. [512] Next day the old woman put on a clean undergarment and took the bundle of all sorts of jewels and went home. The daughter-in-law on seeing her asked, "Where, mother, did you get this?" "My dear, all that are burned on a wooden pile in this cemetery receive
the same." "My dear mother, can I too get this?" "If you become like me, you will." So without saying a word to her husband, in her desire for a lot of ornaments to wear, she went there and burned herself. Her husband next day missed her and said, "My dear mother, at this time of day is not your daughter-in law coming?" Then she reproached him saying, "Fie! you bad man, how do the dead come back?" And she uttered this stanza:
A maiden fair, with wreath upon her
head,
Fragrant with sandal oil, by me was led
A happy bride within my home to reign:
She drove me forth. My refuge proved my bane.
"As the daughter-in-law, sire, is to the mother-in-law, so is
the king a refuge to his people. If danger arises thence, what can one do? take
note of this, sire." "Friend, I do not understand the things you tell
me: only bring me the thief." He thought, "I will shield the
king," and he told yet another story.Fragrant with sandal oil, by me was led
A happy bride within my home to reign:
She drove me forth. My refuge proved my bane.
Of old, sire, in this very city a man in answer to his prayer had a son. At his birth the father was full of joy and gladness at the thought of having got a son, and cherished him. When the boy was grown up, he wedded him to a wife, and by and bye he himself grew old and could not undertake any work. So his son said, "You cannot do any work: you must go from hence," and he drove him out of the house. [513] With great difficulty he kept himself alive on alms, and lamenting he uttered this stanza:
He for whose birth I longed, nor longed
in vain,
Drives me from home. My refuge proved my bane.
"Just as an aged father, sire, ought to be cared for by an
able-bodied son, so too ought all the people to be protected by the king, and
this danger now present has arisen from the king, who is the guardian of all
men. Know, sire, from this fact that the thief is so and so." "I do
not understand this, be it fact or no fact: either bring me the thief, or you
yourself must be the thief." Thus did the king again and again question
the youth. So he said to him, "Would you, sire, really like the thief to be
caught?" "Yes, friend." "Then I will proclaim it in the
midst of the assembly, So and So is the thief." "Do so, friend."
On hearing his words he thought, "This king does not allow me to shield
him: I will now catch the thief." And when the people had gathered
together, he addressed them and spoke these stanzas:Drives me from home. My refuge proved my bane.
Let town and country folk assembled all
give ear,
Lo! water is ablaze. From safety cometh fear.
The plundered realm may well of king and priest complain;
Henceforth protect yourselves. Your refuge proves your bane.
Lo! water is ablaze. From safety cometh fear.
The plundered realm may well of king and priest complain;
Henceforth protect yourselves. Your refuge proves your bane.
[514] When they heard what he said, people thought, "The king, though he ought to have protected others, threw the blame on another. After he had with his own hands placed his treasure in the tank, he went about looking for the thief. That he may not in future go on playing the part of a thief, we will kill this wicked king." So they rose up with sticks and clubs in their hands, and then and there beat the king and the priest till they died. But they anointed the Bodhisatta and set him on the throne.
Footnotes
298:1 The lord of Yakkhas.No. 433.
LOMASAKASSAPA-JĀTAKA.
"A king like Indra," etc.—This
story the Master dwelling at Jetavana told concerning a worldly-minded Brother.
The Master asked him if he were longing for the world, and when he admitted
that it was so, the Master said, "Brother, even men of the highest fame
sometimes incur infamy. Sins like these defile even pure beings; much more one
like you." And then he told a story of the past.grim austerity. And by virtue of his austerity the abode of Sakka was shaken. Sakka, reflecting on the cause, observed him and thought, "This ascetic, by the exceedingly fierce fire of his virtue, would make me fall even from the abode of Sakka. After a secret interview with the king of Benares, I will break down his austerity." By the power of a Sakka he entered the royal closet of the king of Benares at midnight and illuminated all the chamber with the radiance of his form, and standing in the air before the king he woke him up and said, "Sire, arise," and when the king asked, "Who are you?" he answered, "I am Sakka." "Wherefore are you come?" "Sire, do you desire or not sole rule in all India?" "Of course I do." So Sakka said, "Then bring Lomasakassapa here and bid him offer a sacrifice of slain beasts, and you shall become, like Sakka, exempt from old age and death, and exercise rule throughout all India," and he repeated the first stanza:
A king like Indra thou shalt be,
Ne’er doomed old age or death to see,
Should Kassapa by thy advice
Offer a living sacrifice.
On hearing his words the king readily assented. Sakka said,
"Then make no delay," and so departed. [516] Next day the king
summoned a councillor named Sayha and said, "Good sir, go to my dear
friend Lomasakassapa and in my name speak thus to him: "The king by
persuading you to offer a sacrifice will become sole ruler in all India, and he
will grant you as much land as you desire: come with me to offer
sacrifice." He answered, "Very well, sire," and made
proclamation by beat of drum to learn the place where the ascetic dwelt, and when
a certain forester said, I know," Sayha went there under his guidance with
a large following, and saluting the sage sat respectfully on one side and
delivered his message. Then he said to him, "Sayha, what is this you
say?" and refusing him he spoke these four stanzas:Ne’er doomed old age or death to see,
Should Kassapa by thy advice
Offer a living sacrifice.
No island realm, safe-guarded in the
sea,
Shall tempt me, Sayha, to this cruelty.
A curse upon the lust of fame and gain,
Whence spring the sins that lead to endless pain.
Better, as homeless waif, to beg one's bread
Than by a crime bring shame upon my head.
Yea better, bowl in hand, to flee from sin
Than by such cruelty a kingdom win.
The councillor, after hearing what he said, went and told the
king. Thought the king, "Should he refuse to come, what can I do?"
and kept silent. [517] But Sakka at midnight came and stood in the air and
said,Shall tempt me, Sayha, to this cruelty.
A curse upon the lust of fame and gain,
Whence spring the sins that lead to endless pain.
Better, as homeless waif, to beg one's bread
Than by a crime bring shame upon my head.
Yea better, bowl in hand, to flee from sin
Than by such cruelty a kingdom win.
"Why, sire, do you not send for Lomasakassapa and bid him offer sacrifice?" When he is sent for, he refuses to come." "Sire, adorn your daughter, princess Candavatī, and send her by the hand of Sayha and bid him say, "If you will come and offer sacrifice, the king will give you this maiden to wife." Clearly he will be struck with love of the maiden and will come." The king readily agreed, and next day sent his daughter by the hand of Sayha. Sayha took the king's daughter and went there, and after the usual salutation and compliments to the sage, he presented to him the princess, as lovely as a celestial nymph, and stood at a respectful distance. The ascetic losing his moral sense looked at her, and with the mere look he fell away from meditation. The councillor seeing that he was smitten with love said, "Your Reverence, if you will offer sacrifice, the king will give you this maiden to wife." He trembled with the power of passion and said, "Will he surely give her to me?" "Yes, if you offer sacrifice, he will." "Very well," he said, "If I get her, I will sacrifice," and taking her with him, just as he was, ascetic locks and all, he mounted a splendid chariot and went to Benares. But the king, as soon as he heard he was certainly coming, prepared for the ceremony in the sacrificial pit. So when he saw that he was come, he said, "If you offer sacrifice, I shall become equal to Indra, and when the sacrifice is completed, I will give you my daughter." Kassapa readily assented. So the king next day went with Candavatī to the sacrificial pit. There all four-footed beasts, elephants, horses, bulls and the rest were placed in a line. Kassapa essayed to offer sacrifice by killing and slaying them all. Then the people that were gathered together there said, [518] "This is not proper or befitting you, Lomasakassapa: why do you act thus ?" And lamenting they uttered two stanzas:
Both sun and moon bear potent sway,
And tides no power on earth can stay,
Brahmins and priests almighty are,
But womankind is mightier far.
E’en so Candavatī did winAnd tides no power on earth can stay,
Brahmins and priests almighty are,
But womankind is mightier far.
Grim Kassapa to deadly sin,
And urged him by her sire's device
To offer living sacrifices.
and breast. Full of remorse he cried, "Alas! I have done a sinful deed, unbecoming my character," and showing his emotion he spoke the eighth stanza:
[519]
This cruel act is of desire the fruit;
The growth of lust I'll cut down to the root.
Then the king said, "Friend, fear not: offer the sacrifice,
and I will now give you the princess Candavatī, and my kingdom and a pile of
the seven treasures." On hearing this Kassapa said, "Sire, I do not
want this sin upon my soul," and spoke the concluding stanza:The growth of lust I'll cut down to the root.
Curse on the lusts upon this earth so
rife,
Better by far than these the ascetic life;
I will forsaking sin a hermit be:
Keep thou thy realm and fair Candavatī.
With these words he concentrated his thoughts on the mystic
object, and recovering the lost idea sat cross-legged in the air, teaching the
law to the king, and, admonishing him to be zealous in good works, he bade him
destroy the sacrificial pit and grant an amnesty to the people. And at the
king's request, flying up into the air he returned to his own abode. And as
long as he lived, he cultivated the Brahma perfections and became destined to
birth in the Brahma world.Better by far than these the ascetic life;
I will forsaking sin a hermit be:
Keep thou thy realm and fair Candavatī.
Footnotes
307:1 These stanzas occur in No. 310 supra, in a different context.308:1 See Weber, Ind. Stud. x. 348.
No. 434.
CAKKAVĀKA-JĀTAKA. 1
[520] "Twin pair of birds," etc.—This story the Master dwelling at Jetavana told concerning a greedy Brother. He was, it was said, greedy after the Buddhist requisites and casting off all duties of master and pastor, entered Sāvatthi quite early, and after drinking excellent rice-gruel served with many a kind of solid food in the house of Visākhā, and after eating in the daytime various dainties, paddy, meat and boiled rice, not satisfied with this he goes about thenceto the house of Culla-Anāthapiṇḍika, and the king of Kosala, and various others. So one day a discussion was raised in the Hall of Truth concerning his greediness. When the Master heard what they were discussing, he sent for that Brother and asked him if it were true that he was greedy. And when he said "Yes," the Master asked, "Why, Brother, are you greedy? Formerly too through your greediness, not being satisfied with the dead bodies of elephants, you left Benares and wandering about on the bank of the Ganges, entered the Himālaya country." And hereupon he told a story of the past.
Twin pair of birds in yellow dressed,
So joyous roaming to and fro;
What kind of birds do men love best?
This is what I am fain to know.
[521] The ruddy goose on hearing this spoke the second stanza:So joyous roaming to and fro;
What kind of birds do men love best?
This is what I am fain to know.
O bird, of human kind the pest,
We above other birds are blest.
All lands with our "devotion 1" ring
And men and birds our praises sing.
Know then that ruddy geese are we,
And fearless wander o’er the seat 2.
Hearing this the crow spoke the third stanza:We above other birds are blest.
All lands with our "devotion 1" ring
And men and birds our praises sing.
Know then that ruddy geese are we,
And fearless wander o’er the seat 2.
What fruits upon the sea abound,
And whence may flesh for geese be found?
Say on what heavenly food ye live,
Such beauty and such strength to give.
[522] Then the ruddy goose spoke the fourth stanza:And whence may flesh for geese be found?
Say on what heavenly food ye live,
Such beauty and such strength to give.
No fruits are on the sea to eat,
And whence should ruddy geese have meat?
Sevāla plant, stript of its skin,
Yields food without a taint of sin.
And whence should ruddy geese have meat?
Sevāla plant, stript of its skin,
Yields food without a taint of sin.
Then the crow spoke two stanzas:
I like not, goose, the words you use:
I once believed the food we choose
To nourish us, ought to agree
With what our outward form might be.
But now I doubt it, for I eatI once believed the food we choose
To nourish us, ought to agree
With what our outward form might be.
Rice, salt, and oil, and fruit, and meat:
As heroes feast returned from fight,
So I too in good cheer delight.
But though I live on dainty fare,
My looks with yours may not compare.
[523] Then the ruddy goose told the reason why the crow failed to attain to personal beauty, while he himself attained to it, and spoke the remaining stanzas:
Not satisfied with fruit, or garbage
found
Within the precincts of the charnel ground,
The greedy crow pursues in wanton flight
The casual prey that tempts his appetite.
But all that thus shall work their wicked will,Within the precincts of the charnel ground,
The greedy crow pursues in wanton flight
The casual prey that tempts his appetite.
And for their pleasure harmless creatures kill,
Upbraided by their conscience pine away,
And see their strength and comeliness decay.
So happy beings that no creatures harm
In form gain vigour and in looks a charm,
For beauty surely be it understood
Depends not wholly on the kind of food.
[524] Thus did the ruddy goose in many ways reproach the crow. And the crow having brought this reproach upon himself said, "I want not your beauty." And with a cry of "Caw, Caw," he flew away.
Footnotes
309:1 See R. Morris, Folk-Lore Journal, iii. 69.310:1 The ruddy goose, in the poetry of the Hindus, is their turtle-dove. See Wilson's Meghadūta, p. 77.
310:2 By the word "sea" the Ganges is here intended.
No. 435.
HALIDDIRĀGA-JĀTAKA.
"In lonesome forest," etc.—This story the Master at Jetavana told about a youth who was tempted by a certain coarse maiden. The introductory story will be found in the Thirteenth Book in the Cullanārada Birth 1.Now in the old legend this maiden knew that if the young ascetic should break the moral law, he would be in her power, and thinking to cajole him and bring him back to the haunts of men, she said, "Virtue that is safe-guarded in a forest, where the qualities of sense such as beauty and the like have no existence, does not prove very fruitful, but it bears abundant fruit in the haunts of men, in the immediate presence of beauty and the like. So come with me and guard your virtue there. What have you to do with a forest?" And she uttered the first stanza:
In lonesome forest one may well be
pure,
’Tis easy there temptation to endure;
But in a village with seductions rife,
A man may rise to a far nobler life.
On hearing this the young ascetic said, "My father is gone
into the forest. When he returns, I will ask his leave and then accompany
you." She thought, [525] "He has a father, it seems; if he should
find me here, he will strike me with the end of his carrying-pole and kill me: I
must be off beforehand." So she said to the youth, "I will start on
the road before you, and leave a trail behind me: you are to follow me."
When she had left him, he neither fetched wood, nor brought water to drink, but
just sat meditating, and when his father arrived, he did not go out to meet
him. So the father knew that his son had fallen into the power of a woman and
he said, "Why, my son, did you neither fetch wood nor bring me water to
drink, nor food to eat, but why do you do nothing but sit and meditate?"
The youthful ascetic said, "Father, men say that virtue that has to be
guarded in a forest is not very fruitful, but that it brings forth much fruit
in the haunts of men. I will go and guard my virtue there. My companion has
gone forward, bidding me follow: so I will go with my companion. But when I am
dwelling there, what manner of man am I to affect?" And asking this
question he spoke the second stanza:’Tis easy there temptation to endure;
But in a village with seductions rife,
A man may rise to a far nobler life.
This doubt, my father, solve for me, I
pray;
If to some village from this wood I stray,
Men of what school of morals, or what sect
Shall I most wisely for my friends affect?
Then his father spoke and repeated the rest of the verses:If to some village from this wood I stray,
Men of what school of morals, or what sect
Shall I most wisely for my friends affect?
One that can gain thy confidence and
love,
Can trust thy word, and with thee patient prove,
In thought and word and deed will ne’er offend—
Take to thy heart and cling to him as friend.
To men capricious as the monkey kind,
And found unstable, be not thou inclined,
Though to some wilderness thy lot's confined.
Can trust thy word, and with thee patient prove,
In thought and word and deed will ne’er offend—
Take to thy heart and cling to him as friend.
To men capricious as the monkey kind,
And found unstable, be not thou inclined,
Though to some wilderness thy lot's confined.
Eschew foul ways, e’en as thou would'st
keep clear
Of angry serpent, or as charioteer
[526] Avoids a rugged road. Sorrows abound
Whene’er a man in Folly's train is found:
Consort not thou with fools—my voice obey—
The fool's companion is to grief a prey.
Being thus admonished by his father, the youth said, "If I
should go to the haunts of men, I should not find sages like you. I dread going
thither. I will dwell here in your presence." Then his father admonished
him still further and taught him the preparatory rites to induce mystic
meditation. And before long, the son developed the Faculties and Attainments,
and with his father became destined to birth in the Brahma World.Of angry serpent, or as charioteer
[526] Avoids a rugged road. Sorrows abound
Whene’er a man in Folly's train is found:
Consort not thou with fools—my voice obey—
The fool's companion is to grief a prey.
Footnotes
311:1 No. 477, Vol. iv.312:1 This stanza and the first seven of the following verses are to be found in No. 348 supra.
No. 436.
SAMUGGA-JĀTAKA.
[527] "Whence come ye, friends," etc.—This story the Master, while dwelling at Jetavana, told of a worldly-minded Brother. The Master, they say, asked him if it were true that he was hankering after the world, and on his confessing that it was so, he said, "Why, Brother, do you desire a woman? Verily woman is wicked and ungrateful. Of old Asura demons swallowed women, and though they guarded them in their belly, they could not keep them faithful to one man. How then will you be able to do so?" And hereupon he related an old-world tale.listened to the Law, but taking his stand in the forest on the high road where men gathered together, he caught and ate them. At this time a certain noble lady in the kingdom of Kāsi, of exceeding beauty, settled in a frontier village. One day she went to visit her parents, and as she was returning this demon caught sight of the men that formed her escort and rushed upon them in a terrible form. The men let fall the weapons in their hands and took to flight. The demon on seeing a lovely woman seated in the chariot, fell in love with her, and carrying her off to his cave made her his wife. Thenceforth he brought her ghee, husked rice, fish, flesh, and the like, as well as ripe fruit to eat, and arrayed her in robes and ornaments, and in order to keep her safe he put her in a box which he swallowed, and so guarded her in his belly. One day he wished to bathe, and coming to the tank he threw up the box and taking her out of it he bathed and anointed her, and when he had dressed her he said, "For a short time enjoy yourself in the open air," and without suspecting any harm he went a little distance and bathed. [528] At this time the son of Vāyu, who was a magician, girt about with a sword, was walking through the air. When she saw him, she put her hands in a certain position and signed to him to come to her. The magician quickly descended to the ground. Then she placed him in the box, and sat down on it, waiting the approach of the Asura, and as soon as she saw him coming, before he had drawn near to the box, she opened it, and getting inside lay over the magician, and wrapped her garment about him. The Asura came and without examining the box, thought it was only the woman, and swallowed the box and set out for his cave. While on the road he thought, "It is a long time since I saw the ascetic: I will go to-day and pay my respects to him." So he went to visit him. The ascetic, spying him while he was still a long way off, knew that there were two people in the demon's belly, and uttering the first stanza, he said:
Whence come ye, friends?
Right welcome all the three!
Be pleased to rest with me awhile,
I pray: I trust you live at ease and happily;
’Tis long since any of you passed this way.
On hearing this the Asura thought, "I have come quite alone
to see this ascetic, and he speaks of three people: what does he mean? Does he
speak from knowing the exact state of things, or is he mad and talking
foolishly?" Then he drew nigh to the ascetic, and saluted him, and sitting
at a respectful distance he conversed with him and spoke the second stanza:Right welcome all the three!
Be pleased to rest with me awhile,
I pray: I trust you live at ease and happily;
’Tis long since any of you passed this way.
[529]
I've come to visit thee alone to-day,
Nor does a creature bear me company.
Why dost thou then, O holy hermit, say,
"Whence come ye, friends?
Right welcome, all the three."
Nor does a creature bear me company.
Why dost thou then, O holy hermit, say,
"Whence come ye, friends?
Right welcome, all the three."
Said the ascetic, "Do you really wish to hear the reason?" "Yes, holy Sir." "Hear then," he said, and spoke the third stanza:
Thyself and thy dear wife are twain, be
sure;
Enclosed within a box she lies secure:
Safe-guarded ever in thy belly, she
With Vāyu's son doth sport her merrily.
On hearing this the Asura thought, "Magicians surely are full
of tricks: supposing his sword should be in his hand, he will rip open my belly
and make his escape." And being greatly alarmed he threw up the box and
placed it before him.Enclosed within a box she lies secure:
Safe-guarded ever in thy belly, she
With Vāyu's son doth sport her merrily.
The demon by the sword was greatly
terrified,
And from his maw disgorged the box upon the ground;
[530] His wife, with lovely wreath adorned as if a bride,
With Vāyu's son disporting merrily was found.
And from his maw disgorged the box upon the ground;
[530] His wife, with lovely wreath adorned as if a bride,
With Vāyu's son disporting merrily was found.
O stern ascetic, thy clear vision saw
How low poor man, a woman's slave, may sink;
As life itself tho’ guarded in my maw,
The wretch did play the wanton, as I think.
I tended her with care both day and night,How low poor man, a woman's slave, may sink;
As life itself tho’ guarded in my maw,
The wretch did play the wanton, as I think.
As forest hermit cherishes a flame,
And yet she sinned, beyond all sense of right:
—To do with woman needs must end in shame.
Methought within my body, hid from sight,
She must be mine—but "Wanton" was her name—
And so she sinned beyond all sense of right:
—To do with woman needs must end in shame.
Man with her thousand wiles doth vainly cope,
In vain he trusts that his defence is sure;
Like precipices down to Hell that slope,
Poor careless souls she doth to doom allure.
The man that shuns the path of
womankind
Lives happily and from all sorrow free;
He his true bliss in solitude will find,
Afar from woman and her treachery.
[531] With these words the demon fell at the feet of the Great
Being, and praised him, saying, "Holy Sir, through you my life was saved.
Owing to that wicked woman I was nearly killed by the magician." Then the
Bodhisatta expounded the Law to him, saying, "Do no harm to her:Lives happily and from all sorrow free;
He his true bliss in solitude will find,
Afar from woman and her treachery.
keep the commandments," and established him in the five moral precepts. The Asura said, "Though I guarded her in my belly, I could not keep her safe. Who else will keep her?" So he let her go, and returned straight to his forest home.
The Master, his lesson ended, proclaimed the Truths, and identified the Birth:—At the conclusion of the Truths the worldly-minded Brother attained fruition of the First Path:—"In those days the ascetic with supernatural powers of sight was myself."
No. 437.
PŪTIMAṄSA-JĀTAKA. 1
[532] "Why thus does Pūtimaṅsa," etc.—This was a story told by the Master while at Jetavana concerning the subjugation of the senses. For at one time there were many Brethren who kept no guard over the avenues of the senses. The Master said to the elder Ānanda, "I must admonish these Brethren," and owing to their want of self-restraint he called together the assembly of the Brethren, and seated in the middle of a richly-adorned couch he thus addressed them: "Brethren, it is not right that a Brother under the influence of personal beauty should set his affections on mental or physical attributes, for should he die at such a moment, he is re-born in hell and the like evil states; therefore set not your affections on material forms and the like. A Brother ought not to feed his mind on mental and physical attributes. They who do so even in this present condition of things are utterly ruined. Therefore it is good, Brethren, that the eye of the senses should be touched with a red-hot iron pin." And here he gave other details, adding, "There is a time for you to regard beauty, and a time to disregard it: at the time of regarding it, regard it not under the influence of what is agreeable, but of what is disagreeable. Thus will ye not fall away from your proper sphere. What then is this sphere of yours? Even the four earnest meditations, the holy eight-fold path, the nine transcendent conditions. If ye walk in this your proper domain, Māra will not find an entrance, but if ye are subject to passion and regard things under the influence of personal beauty, like the jackal Pūtimaṅsa, ye will fall away from your true sphere," and with these words he related a story of the past.the slopes of the Himālayas. Not far from their place of abode a jackal named Pūtimaṅsa with his wife Veṇī lived in a cave. One day as he was ranging about with his wife, he spied those goats and thought, "I must find some means to eat the flesh of these goats," and by some device he killed a single goat. Both he and his wife by feeding on goat's flesh waxed strong and gross of body. Gradually the goats diminished in number. [533] Amongst them was a wise she-goat named Meḷamātā. The jackal though skilful in devices could not kill her, and taking counsel with his wife he said, "My dear, all the goats have died out. We must devise how to eat this she-goat. Now here is my plan. You are to go by yourself, and become friendly with her, and when confidence has sprung up between you, I will lie down and pretend to be dead. Then you are to draw nigh to the goat and say, "My dear, my husband is dead and I am desolate; except you I have no friend: come, let us weep and lament, and bury his body." And with these words come and bring her with you. Then I will spring up and kill her by a bite in the neck." She readily agreed and after making friends with the goat, when confidence was established, she addressed her in the words suggested by her husband. The goat replied, "My dear, all my kinsfolk have been eaten by your husband. I am afraid; I cannot come." "Do not be afraid; what harm can the dead do you?" "Your husband is cruelly-minded; I am afraid." But afterwards being repeatedly importuned the goat thought, "He certainly must be dead," and consented to go with her. But on her way there she thought, "Who knows what will happen?" and being suspicious she made the she-jackal go in front, keeping a sharp look-out for the jackal. He heard the sound of their steps and thought, "Here comes the goat," and put up his head and rolling his eyes looked about him. The goat on seeing him do this said, "This wicked wretch wants to take me in and kill me: he lies there making a pretence of being dead," and she turned about and fled. When the she-jackal asked why she ran away, the goat gave the reason and spoke the first stanza:
[534]
Why thus does Pūtimaiṅsa
stare?
His look misliketh me:
Of such a friend one should beware,
And far away should flee.
With these words she turned about and made straight for her own
abode. And the she-jackal failing to stop her was enraged with her, and went to
her husband and sat down lamenting. Then the jackal rebuking her spoke the
second stanza:His look misliketh me:
Of such a friend one should beware,
And far away should flee.
Veṇī,
my wife, seems dull of wit,
To boast of friends that she has made;
Left in the lurch she can but sit
And grieve, by Meḷa's art betrayed.
To boast of friends that she has made;
Left in the lurch she can but sit
And grieve, by Meḷa's art betrayed.
On hearing this the she jackal spoke the third stanza:
You too, my lord, were hardly wise,
And, foolish creature, raised your head,
Staring about with open eyes,
Though feigning to be dead.
And, foolish creature, raised your head,
Staring about with open eyes,
Though feigning to be dead.
At fitting times they that are wise
Know when to ope or close their eyes,
Who look at the wrong moment, will,
Like Pūtimaṅsa, suffer ill.
This stanza was inspired by Perfect Wisdom.Know when to ope or close their eyes,
Who look at the wrong moment, will,
Like Pūtimaṅsa, suffer ill.
Our former friendship, goat, once more
revive,
And come with well-filled bowl to us, I pray,
My lord I took for dead is still alive,
With kindly greeting visit him to-day.
The goat thought, "This wicked wretch wants to take me in. I
must not act like an open foe; I will find means to deceive her," and she
spoke the sixth stanza,:And come with well-filled bowl to us, I pray,
My lord I took for dead is still alive,
With kindly greeting visit him to-day.
Our former friendship to revive,
A well-filled bowl I gladly give:
With a big escort I shall come;
To feast us well, go hasten home.
Then the she-jackal inquired about her followers, and spoke the
seventh stanza:A well-filled bowl I gladly give:
With a big escort I shall come;
To feast us well, go hasten home.
What kind of escort will you bring,
That I am bid to feast you well?
The names of all remembering
To us, I pray you, truly tell.
The goat spoke the eighth stanza and said:That I am bid to feast you well?
The names of all remembering
To us, I pray you, truly tell.
Hounds 1 grey and tan, four-eyed one too,
With Jambuk form my escort true:
Go hurry home, and quick prepare
For all abundance of good fare.
With Jambuk form my escort true:
Go hurry home, and quick prepare
For all abundance of good fare.
[536] "Each of these," she added, "is accompanied by five hundred dogs: so I shall appear with a guard of two thousand dogs. If they should not find food, they will kill and eat you and your mate." On hearing this the she-jackal was so frightened that she thought, "I have had quite enough of her coming to us; I will find means to stop her from coming," and she spoke the ninth stanza:
Don't leave your house, or else I fear
Your goods will all soon disappear:
I'll take your greeting to my lord;
Don't stir: nay, not another word!
With these words she ran in great haste, as for her life, and
taking her lord with her, fled away. And they never durst come back to that
spot.Your goods will all soon disappear:
I'll take your greeting to my lord;
Don't stir: nay, not another word!
Footnotes
316:1 See R. Morris, Folk-Lore Journal, iii. 71.318:1 Maliya and Pingiya probably refer to the colour of the dogs; Caturaksha is one of Yama's dogs in the Rigveda; Jambuka is a spirit in the train of Skanda.
No. 438.
TITTIRA-JĀTAKA. 1
"Thy harmless offspring," etc.—This story the Master, while dwelling at Vulture Peak, told concerning the going about of Devadatta to slay him. It was at this time that they started a discussion in the Hall of Truth, saying, "Alas! Sirs, how shameless and base was Devadatta. Joining himself to Ajātasattu, he formed a plot to kill the excellent and supreme Buddha, by the suborning of archers, the hurling of a rock, and the letting loose of Nālāgiri." The Master came and inquired of the Brethren what they were discussing in their assembly, and on being told what it was said, [537] " Not only now, but formerly too, Devadatta went about to kill me, but now he cannot so much as frighten me," and he related an old-world legend.I meet with hindrances to the religious life, and my pupils are not perfected in their studies. I will retire into a forest home on the slopes of the Himālayas and carry on my teaching there." He told his pupils, and, bidding them bring sesame, husked rice, oil, garments and such like, he went into the forest and building a hut of leaves took up his abode close by the highway. His pupils too each built a hut for himself. Their kinsfolk sent rice and the like, and the natives of the country saying, "A famous professor, they say, is living in such and such a place in the forest, and giving lessons in science," brought presents of rice, and the foresters also offered their gifts, while a certain man gave a milch cow and a calf, to supply them with milk. Now a lizard along with her two young ones came to dwell in the hut of the teacher, and a lion and a tiger ministered to him. A partridge too constantly resided there, and from hearing their master teach sacred texts to his pupils, the partridge got to know three Vedas. And the young brahmins became very friendly with the bird. By and bye before the youths had attained to proficiency in the sciences, their master died. His pupils had his body burnt, set up a tope of sand over his ashes, and with weeping and lamentation adorned it with all manner of flowers. So the partridge asked them why they wept. "Our master," they replied, "has died while our studies are still incomplete." "If this is so, do not be distressed: I will teach you science." "How do you know it?" "I used to listen to your master, while he was teaching you, and got up three Vedas by heart." "Then do you impart to us what you have learned by heart." [538] The partridge said, "Well, listen," and he expounded knotty points to them, as easily as one lets down a stream from a mountain height. The young brahmins were highly delighted and acquired science from the learned partridge. And the bird stood in the place of the far-famed teacher, and gave lectures in science. The youths made him a golden cage and fastening an awning over it, they served him with honey and parched grain in a golden dish and presenting him with divers coloured flowers, they paid great honour to the bird. It was blazed abroad throughout all India that a partridge in a forest was instructing five hundred young brahmins in sacred texts. At that time men proclaimed a high festival—it was like a gathering together of the people on a mountain top. The parents of the youths sent a message for their sons to come and see the festival. They told the partridge, and entrusting the learned bird and all the hermitage to the care of the lizard, they left for their several cities. At that moment an ill-conditioned 1 wicked ascetic wandering about hither and thither came to this spot. The lizard on seeing him entered into friendly talk with him,
saying, "In such and such a place you will find rice, oil and such like; boil some rice and enjoy yourself," and so saying he went off in quest of his own food. Early in the morning the wretch boiled his rice, and killed and ate the two young lizards, making a dainty dish of them. At midday he killed and ate the learned partridge and the calf, and in the evening no sooner did he see the cow had come home than he killed her too and ate the flesh. Then he lay down grunting at the foot of a tree and fell asleep. In the evening the lizard came back and missing her young ones went about looking for them. A tree-sprite observing the lizard all of a tremble because she could not find her young ones, by an exercise of divine power stood in the hollow of the trunk of the tree and said, "Cease trembling, lizard: your young ones and the partridge and the calf and cow have been killed by this wicked fellow. Give him a bite in the neck, and so bring about his death." And thus talking with the lizard the deity spoke the first stanza:
[539]
Thy harmless offspring he did eat,
Though thou didst rice in plenty give;
Thy teeth make in his flesh to meet,
Nor let the wretch escape alive.
Then the lizard repeated two stanzas:Though thou didst rice in plenty give;
Thy teeth make in his flesh to meet,
Nor let the wretch escape alive.
Filth doth his greedy soul, like
nurse's garb, besmear,
His person all is proof against my fangs, I fear.
Flaws by the base ingrate are everywhere espied,His person all is proof against my fangs, I fear.
Not by the gift of worlds can he be satisfied.
The lizard so saying thought, "This fellow will wake up and eat me," and to save her own life she fled. Now the lion and the tiger were on very friendly terms with the partridge. Sometimes they used to come and see the partridge, and sometimes the partridge went and taught the Law to them. To-day the lion said to the tiger, "It is a long time since we saw the partridge; it must be seven or eight days: go and bring back news of him." The tiger readily assented, and he arrived at the place the very moment that the lizard had run away, and found the vile wretch sleeping. In his matted locks were to be seen some feathers of the partridge, [540] and close by appeared the bones of the cow and calf. King tiger seeing all this and missing the partridge from his golden cage thought, "These creatures must have been killed by this wicked fellow," and he roused him by a kick. At the sight of the tiger the man was terribly frightened. Then the tiger asked, "Did you kill and eat these creatures?" "I neither killed nor ate them." "Vile wretch, if you did not kill them, tell me who else would? And if you do not tell me, you are a dead man:" Frightened for his life he said, "Yes, sir, I did kill and eat the young lizards and the cow and the calf, but I did not kill the
partridge." And though he protested much, the tiger did not believe him but asked, "Whence did you come here?" "My lord, I hawked about merchant's wares for a living in the Kāliṅga country, and after trying one thing and another I have come here." But when the man had told him everything that he had done, the tiger said, "You wicked fellow, if you did not kill the partridge, who else could have done so? Come, I shall bring you before the lion, the king of beasts." So the tiger went off, driving the man before him. When the lion saw the tiger bringing the man with him, putting it in the form of a question he spoke the fourth stanza:
Why thus in haste, Subāhu 1, art thou here,
And why with thee does this good youth appear?
What need for urgency is here, I pray?
Quick, tell me truly and without delay.
[541] On hearing this the tiger spoke the fifth stanza:And why with thee does this good youth appear?
What need for urgency is here, I pray?
Quick, tell me truly and without delay.
The partridge, Sire, our very worthy
friend,
I doubt, to-day has come to a bad end:
This fellow's antecedents make me fear
We may ill news of our good partridge hear.
Then the lion spoke the sixth stanza:I doubt, to-day has come to a bad end:
This fellow's antecedents make me fear
We may ill news of our good partridge hear.
What may the fellow's antecedents be,
And what the sins that he confessed to thee,
To make thee doubt that some misfortune may
Have fallen on the learned bird to-day?
Then in answer to him king tiger repeated the remaining verses:And what the sins that he confessed to thee,
To make thee doubt that some misfortune may
Have fallen on the learned bird to-day?
As pedlar thro’ Kāliṅga
land
Rough roads he travelled, staff in hand;
With acrobats he has been found,
And harmless beast in toils has bound;
With dicers too has often played,
And snares for little birds has laid;
In crowds with cudgel-sticks has fought,
And gain by measuring corn has sought:
False to his vows, in midnight fray
Wounded, he washed the blood away:
His hands he burned thro’ being bold
To snatch at food too hot to hold.
[542] Such was the life I heard he led,
Such are the sins upon his head,
And since we know the cow is dead,
And feathers midst his locks appear,
I greatly for friend partridge fear.
The lion asked the man, "Did you kill the learned
partridge?" "Yes, my lord, I did." The lion on hearing him speak
the truth, was anxious toRough roads he travelled, staff in hand;
With acrobats he has been found,
And harmless beast in toils has bound;
With dicers too has often played,
And snares for little birds has laid;
In crowds with cudgel-sticks has fought,
And gain by measuring corn has sought:
False to his vows, in midnight fray
Wounded, he washed the blood away:
His hands he burned thro’ being bold
To snatch at food too hot to hold.
[542] Such was the life I heard he led,
Such are the sins upon his head,
And since we know the cow is dead,
And feathers midst his locks appear,
I greatly for friend partridge fear.
let him go, but king tiger said, "The villain deserves to die," and then and there rent him with his teeth. Then he dug a pit and threw the body into it. [543] The young brahmins when they returned home, not finding the partridge, with weeping and lamentation left the place.
Footnotes
319:1 See R. Morris, Folk-Lore Journal, iii. 74320:1 The reading is doubtful. Another reading is nikkārṇiko, "pitiless": Morris for niggatiko suggests nigaṇtho, "naked ascetic".
322:1 Subāhu (strong-arm) is the name of the tiger. Compare no. 361 supra, p. 127.
Om Tat Sat
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