THE JĀTAKA
OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS
No. 478.
DŪTA-JĀTAKA.
"O plunged in thought," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana, about praise of his own wisdom. In the Hall of Truth they were gossiping: "See, Brothers, the Dasabala's skill in resource! He showed that younggentleman Nanda 1 the host of nymphs, and gave him sainthood; he gave a cloth to his little foot-page 2, and bestowed sainthood on him along with the four branches of mystic science 3; to the blacksmith he showed a lotus, and gave him sainthood; with what diverse expedients he instructs living beings!" The Master entering asked what they sat talking of; they told him. Said he, "It is not the first time that the Tathāgata has been skilled in resource, and clever to know what will have the desired effect; clever he was before." So saying, he told a story of the past.
On the seventh day the king in alarm came to the man, and asked an explanation, reciting the first stanza:
"O plunged in thought on Ganges' bank, why
spoke you not again
In answer to my messages? Will you conceal your pain?"
When this he heard, the Great Being replied, "O great king!
the sorrow must be told to him that is able to take it away, and to no
other:" and he repeated seven stanzas:In answer to my messages? Will you conceal your pain?"
"O fostering lord of Kāsi land! if sorrow be
your lot,
Tell not that sorrow to a soul if he can help it not.
"But whosoever can relieve one part of it by right,Tell not that sorrow to a soul if he can help it not.
To him let all his wish declare each sorrow-stricken wight.
"The cry of jackals or of birds is understood with ease;
Yea, but the word of men, O King, is darker far than these. 1
[226] "A man may think, "This is my friend, my comrade, of my kin":
But friendship goes, and often hate and enmity begin! 1
"He who not being asked and asked again
Out of due season will declare his pain,
Surely displeases those who are his friends,
And they who wish him well lament amain.
"Knowing fit time for speaking how to find,
Knowing a wise man of a kindred mind,
The wise to such a one his woe declares,
In gentle words with meaning hid behind.
"But should he see that nothing can amend
His hardships, and that telling them will tend
To no good issue, let the wise alone
Endure, reserved and shamefast to the end."
[227] Thus did the Great Being discourse in these seven stanzas to teach the king; and then repeated four others to show his search for money to pay the teacher withal:
"O King! whole kingdoms I have scoured, the
cities of each king,
Each town or village, craving alms, my teacher's fee to bring.
"Householder, courtier, man of wealth, brahmin—at every doorEach town or village, craving alms, my teacher's fee to bring.
Seeking, a little gold I gained, an ounce or two, no more.
Now that is lost, O mighty king! and so I grieve full sore.
"No power had your messengers to free me from my pain:—
I weigh’d them well, O mighty king! so I did not explain.
"But thou hast power, O mighty king! to free me from my pain,
For I have weighed your merit well; to you I do explain."
When the king read his utterance, he replied, "Trouble not, brahmin, for I will give you your teacher's fee;" and he restored him two-fold.
To make this clear the Master repeated the last stanza:
"The fostering lord of Kāsi land did to this
man restore
(In fullest trust) of gold refined twice what he had before."
(In fullest trust) of gold refined twice what he had before."
Footnotes
140:1 Buddha's half-brother. For the allusion see No. 182, Saṃgāvācara Jātaka, and Hardy, Manual, p. 204; Warren, Buddhism in Translations, 269 ff.140:2 Reading cullupaṭṭhākassa.
140:3 Of attha-, dhamma-, nirutti-, paṭibhāna-. For explanation of these obscure terms the reader is referred to Childers, p. 366; and Warren, Buddhism in Translations, Index s. v. "Analytical Sciences."
140:4 "Seven nikkha's." Nikkho is a variable weight, equal to 250 phalas, which we may call grains.
141:1 These two couplets occur above in No. 476 (p. 135).
No. 479.
KĀLIṄGA-BODHI-JĀTAKA. 1
"King Kāliṅga," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana about worship of the bo-tree performed by Elder Ānanda.When the Tathāgata had set forth on pilgrimage, for the purpose of gathering in those who were ripe for conversion, the citizens of Sāvatthi proceeded to Jetavana, their hands full of garlands and fragrant wreaths, and finding no other place to show their reverence, laid them by the gateway of the perfumed chamber and went off. This caused great rejoicings. But Anāthapiṇḍika got to hear of it; and on the return of the Tathāgata visited Elder Ānanda and said to him,—"This monastery, Sir, is left unprovided while the Tathāgata goes on pilgrimage, and there is no place for the people to do reverence by offering fragrant wreaths and garlands. Will you be so kind, Sir, as to tell the Tathāgata of this matter, and learn from him whether or no it is possible to find a place for this purpose." The other, nothing loth, did so, asking, "How many shrines are there?"—"Three, Ānanda."—"Which are they?"—"Shrines for a relic of the body, a relic of use or wear, a relic of memorial 2"—"Can a shrine be made, Sir, during your life?"—"No, Ānanda, not a body-shrine; that kind is made when a Buddha enters Nirvāna. A shrine of memorial is improper because the connection depends on the imagination only. But the great bo-tree used by the Buddhas is fit for a shrine, be they alive or be they dead."—"Sir, while you are away on pilgrimage the great monastery of Jetavana
is unprotected, and the people have no place where they can show their reverence. Shall I plant a seed of the great bo-tree before the gateway of Jetavana?"—"By all means so do, Ānanda, and that shall be as it were an abiding place for me."
The Elder told this to Anāthapiṇḍika, and Visākhā, and the king. Then at the gateway of Jetavana he cleared out a pit for the bo to stand in, and said to the chief Elder, Moggallāna, "I want to plant a bo-tree in front of Jetavana. Will you get me a fruit of the great bo-tree?" The Elder, well willing, passed through the air to the platform under the bo-tree. [229] He placed in his robe a fruit that was dropping 1 from its stalk but had not reached the ground, brought it back, and delivered it to Ānanda. The Elder informed the King of Kosala that he was to plant the bo-tree that day. So in the evening time came the King with a great concourse, bringing all things necessary; then came also Anāthapiṇḍika and Visākhā and a crowd of the faithful besides.
In the place where the bo-tree was to be planted the Elder had placed a golden jar, and in the bottom of it was a hole; all was filled with earth moistened with fragrant water. He said, "O king, plant this seed of the bo-tree," giving it to the king. But the king, thinking that his kingdom was not to be in his hands for ever, and that Anāthapiṇḍika ought to plant it, passed the seed to Anāthapiṇḍika, the great merchant. Then Anāthapiṇḍika stirred up the fragrant soil and dropt it in. The instant it dropt from his hand, before the very eyes of all, up sprang as broad as a plough-head a bo-sapling, fifty cubits tall; on the four sides and upwards shot forth five great branches of fifty cubits in length, like the trunk. So stood the tree, a very lord of the forest already; a mighty miracle! The king poured round the tree jars of gold and of silver, in number eight hundred, filled with scented water, beauteous with a great quantity of blue water-lilies. Ay, and caused to be set there a long line of vessels all full, and a seat he had made of the seven precious things, golden dust he had sprinkled about it, a wall was built round the precincts, he erected a gate chamber of the seven precious things. Great was the honour paid to it.
The Elder approaching the Tathāgata, said to him, "Sir, for the people's good, accomplish under the bo-tree which I have planted that height of Attainment to which you attained under the great bo-tree." "What is this you say, Ānanda?" replied he. "There is no other place can support me, if I sit there and attain to that which I attained in the enclosure of the great bo-tree." "Sir," said Ānanda, "I pray you for the good of the people, to use this tree for the rapture of Attainment, in so far as this spot of ground can support the weight." The Master used it during one night for the rapture of Attainment.
The Elder informed the king, and all the rest, and called it by the name of the Bo Festival. And this tree, having been planted by Ānanda, was known by the name of Ānanda's Bo-Tree.
At that time they began to talk of it in the Hall of Truth. "Brother, while yet the Tathāgata lived, the venerable Ānanda caused a bo-tree to be planted, (230) and great reverence to be paid to it. Oh, how great is the Elder's power!" The Master entering asked what they were talking of. They told him. He said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that Ānanda led captive mankind in the four great continents, with all the surrounding throngs, and caused a vast quantity of scented wreaths to be brought, and made a bo-festival in the precinct of the great bo-tree." So saying, he told a story of the past.
Mahā-Kāliṅga and Culla-Kāliṅga, Kāliṅga the Greater and the Less. Now fortune-tellers had foretold that the eldest son would reign after his father's death; but that the youngest would live as an ascetic, and live by alms, yet his son would be an universal monarch.
Time passed by, and on his father's death the eldest son became king, the youngest viceroy. The youngest, ever thinking that a son born of him was to be an universal monarch, grew arrogant on that account. This the king could not brook, so sent a messenger to arrest Kāliṅga the Less. The man came and said, "Prince, the king wishes to have you arrested, so save your life." The prince showed the courtier charged with this mission his own signet ring, a fine rug, and his sword: these three. Then he said, "By these tokens 1 you shall know my son, and make him king." With these words, he sped away into the forest. There he built him a hut in a pleasant place, and lived as an ascetic upon the bank of a river.
Now in the kingdom of Madda, and in the city of Sāgala, a daughter was born to the King of Madda. Of the girl, as of the prince, fortunetellers foretold that she should live as an ascetic, but her son was to be an universal monarch. The Kings of India, hearing this rumour, came together with one accord, and surrounded the city. The king thought to himself, "Now, if I give my daughter to one, all the other kings will be enraged. I will try to save her." So with wife and daughter he fled disguised away into the forest; and after building him a hut some distance up the river, above the hut of Prince Kāliṅga, [231] he lived there as an ascetic, eating what he could pick up.
The parents, wishing to save their daughter, left her behind in the hut, and went out to gather wild fruits. While they were gone she gathered flowers of all kinds, and made them into a flower-wreath. Now on the bank of the Ganges there is a mango tree with beautiful flowers, which forms a kind of natural ladder. Upon this she climbed, and playing managed to drop the wreath of flowers into the water 2.
One day, as Prince Kāliṅga was coming out of the river after a bath, this flower-wreath caught in his hair.
He looked at it, and said, "Some woman made this, and no full-grown woman but a tender young girl. I must make search for her." So deeply in love he journeyed up the Ganges, until he heard her singing in a sweet voice, as she sat in the mango tree. He approached the foot of the tree,
and seeing her, said, "What are you, fair lady?" "I am human, Sir," she replied. "Come down, then," quoth he. "Sir, I cannot; I am of the warrior caste 1." "So am I also, lady: come down!" "No, no, Sir, that I cannot do. Saying will not make a warrior; if you are so, tell me the secrets of that mystery." Then they repeated to each other these guild secrets. And the princess came down, and they had connexion one with the other.
When her parents returned she told them about this son of the King of Kālinga, and how he came into the forest, in all detail. They consented to give her to him. While they lived together in happy union, the princess conceived, and after ten months brought forth a son with the signs of good luck and virtue; and they named him Kāliṅga. He grew up, and learnt all arts and accomplishments from his father and grandfather.
At length his father knew from conjunctions of the stars that his brother was dead. So he called his son, and said, "My son, you must not spend your life in the forest. Your father's brother, Kāliṅga the Greater, is dead; you must go to Dantapura, and receive your hereditary kingdom." [232] Then he gave him the things he had brought away with him, signet, rug, and sword, saying, "My son, in the city of Dantapura, in such a street, lives a courtier who is my very good servant. Descend into his house and enter his bedchamber, and show him these three things and tell him you are my son. He will place you upon the throne."
The lad bade farewell to his parents and grandparents; and by power of his own virtue he passed through the air, and descending into the house of that courtier entered his bedchamber. "Who are you?" asked the other. "The son of Kāliṅga the Less," said he, disclosing the three tokens. The courtier told it to the palace, and all those of the court decorated the city and spread the umbrella of royalty over his head. Then the chaplain, who was named Kāliṅga-bhāradvāja, taught him the ten ceremonies which an universal monarch has to perform, and he fulfilled those duties. Then on the fifteenth day, the fast-day, came to him from Cakkadaha the precious Wheel of Empire, from the Uposatha stock the precious Elephant, from the royal Valāha breed the precious Horse, from Vepulla the precious Jewel; and the precious wife, retinue, and prince made their appearance 2. Then he achieved sovereignty in the whole terrestrial sphere.
One day, surrounded by a company which covered six-and-thirty leagues, and mounted upon an elephant all white, tall as a peak of Mount
Kelāsa, in great pomp and splendour he went to visit his parents. But beyond the circuit 1 around the great bo-tree, the throne of victory of all the Buddhas, which has become the very navel of the earth, beyond this the elephant was unable to pass: again and again the king urged him on, but pass he could not.
"King Kāliṅga,
lord supreme,
Ruled the earth by law and right,
To the bo-tree once he came
On an elephant of might."
Ruled the earth by law and right,
To the bo-tree once he came
On an elephant of might."
"This Kāliṅga-bhāradvāja
told his king, the ascetic's son,
As he rolled the wheel of empire, guiding him, obeisance done:
"This the place the poets sing of; here, O mighty king,
alight!As he rolled the wheel of empire, guiding him, obeisance done:
Here attained to perfect wisdom perfect Buddhas, shining bright.
"In the world, tradition has it, this one spot is hallowed ground,
Where in attitude of reverence herbs and creepers stand around 3.
"Come, descend and do obeisance; since as far as the ocean bound
In the fertile earth all-fostering this one spot is hallowed ground.
"All the elephants thou ownest thorobred by
dam and sire,
Hither drive them, they will surely come thus far, but come no nigher.
"He is thorobred you ride on; drive the creature as you will,Hither drive them, they will surely come thus far, but come no nigher.
He can go not one step further: here the elephant stands still."
"Spake the soothsayer, heard Kāliṅga; then the King to him, quoth he,
Driving deep the goad into him—"Be this truth, we soon shall see."
"Pierced, the creature trumpets loudly, shrill as any heron cries,
Moved, then fell upon his haunches neath the weight, and could not rise."
"When Kāliṅga-bhāradvāja
saw the elephant was dead,
He in fear and trepidation then to king Kāliṅga said:
"Seek another, mighty monarch: this thy elephant is dead."
He in fear and trepidation then to king Kāliṅga said:
"Seek another, mighty monarch: this thy elephant is dead."
"This heard, Kāliṅga
in dismay
Mounted another, and straightway
Upon the earth the corpse sank down,
And the soothsayer's word for very truth was shown."
Mounted another, and straightway
Upon the earth the corpse sank down,
And the soothsayer's word for very truth was shown."
"To Kāliṅga-bhāradvāja king Kāliṅga
thus did say:
"All thou know’st and understandest, and thou seest all alway."
Now the brahmin would not accept this praise; but standing in his
own humble place, he extolled the Buddhas, and praised them."All thou know’st and understandest, and thou seest all alway."
To explain this, the Master repeated these stanzas:
"But the brahmin straight denied it, and thus
spake unto the king:
"I know sooth of marks and tokens: but the Buddhas, every thing.
"Though all-knowing and all-seeing, yet in marks they have no
skill:"I know sooth of marks and tokens: but the Buddhas, every thing.
They know all, but know by insight: I a man of books am still."
"Thus worshipt he the great bo-tree 1 with much melodious
sound
Of music, and with fragrant wreaths: a wall he set around,
"and after that the king went on his way—Of music, and with fragrant wreaths: a wall he set around,
"Brought flowers in sixty thousand carts an offering to be;
Thus king Kāliṅga worshipped the Circuit of the Tree."
Footnotes
142:1 See Hardy, Eastern Monachism, pp. 213-4.142:2 See Hardy, Eastern Monachism, 216 f. The last class is said to be images of the Buddha.
143:1 Reading parigalantam.
144:1 The tokens are a familiar feature of folk-tales. We may compare the story of Theseus, with his father's sword and sandals: Pausanias, i. 27. 8.
144:2 Another familiar episode in folk tales, but of Protean form. It is commonly a hair of the lady's head that falls. See Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions, i. 241 (India), 251, (Egypt); North Indian Notes and Queries, ii. 704; Lal Behari Day, Folk Tales of Bengal, No, 4.
145:1 Khattiyā.
145:2 For an account of the Cakkavatti, and the miracles at his appearing, consult Hardy's Manual, 126 ff. See also Rhys Davids on the Questions of Milinda, vol. i. p. 57 (he renders the last two treasurer and adviser), and Buddhist Suttas, p. 257.
146:1 The word is used both of the seat under the tree and of the raised terrace built around it.
146:2 Or should it be a karisa round the king?
146:3 The scholiast says of this maṇḍo: "As the age continues, at first it continues the same, then with the waning of the age wanes again and grows less."
No. 480.
AKITTA-JĀTAKA.
"Sakka, the lord of beings," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, about a generous donor who lived in Sāvatthi. This man, so it is said, invited the Master, and for seven days gave many gifts to the company which followed with him; on the last day he presented the company of the Saints with all things necessary for them. Then said theMaster, rendering thanks to him, "Lay Brother, great is thy generosity: a thing most difficult thou hast done. This custom of giving is the custom of wise men of old. Gifts must be given, be ye in the world, be ye in retirement from the world; the wise men of old, even when they had left the world and dwelt in the woodland, when they had to eat but Kāra 1 leaves sprinkled with water, without salt or spice [237], yet gave to all beggars that passed by to serve their need, and themselves lived on their own joy and blessedness." The man answered, "Sir, this giving of all necessary things to the company is clear enough, but what you say is not clear. Will you not explain it to us?" Then the Master at his request told a story of the past.
Three leagues he traversed, and there in a pleasant spot made a hut of leaves and branches, and with his sister lived in it as an ascetic [238].
After the time of his retiring from the world, many others also did the same, villagers, townsfolk, citizens of the royal city; great was the company of them, great the gifts and the honour they received; it was like to the arising of a Buddha. Then the Great Being thought within himself, "Here is great honour and store of alms, here is a great company, yea passing great, but I ought to dwell alone." So at a time when no man expected, without even warning his sister, alone he departed, and by and by came to the kingdom Damiḷa 1, where dwelling in a park over against Kāvīrapaṭṭana, he cultivated a mystic ecstasy and the supernatural Faculties. There also he received much honour and great store of gifts. This liked him not, and he forsook it, and passing through the air descended at the isle of Kāra, which is over against the island of Nāga 2. At that time, Kāradīpa was named Ahidīpa, the Isle of Snakes. There he built him an hermitage beside a great kāra-tree, and dwelt in it. But that he dwelt there no man knew.
Now his sister went searching for her brother, and in due course came to the kingdom of Damiḷa, saw him not, yet dwelt in the very place where he dwelt, but could not induce the mystic ecstasy. The Great Being was so contented that he went no whither, but at the time of fruit fed upon the fruit of that tree, and at time of putting forth of leaves fed on its leaves sprinkled with water. By the fire of his virtue Sakka's marble throne became hot. "Who would bring me down from my place?" thought Sakka, and considering, he beheld the wise man. "Why is it," thought he, "yon ascetic guards his virtue? Is it that he aspires to Sakka-hood, or for some other cause? I will test him. The man lives in misery, eats kāra-leaves sprinkled with water: if he desires to become Sakka, he will give me his own sodden leaves; but if not, then he will not give them." Then in the guise of a brahmin he went to the Bodhisatta.
The Bodhisatta sat at the door of his leaf-hut, having sodden the leaves and laid them down: "When they are cool," thought he, "I will eat them." At that moment Sakka stood before him, craving an alms. When the Great Being beheld him, he was glad at heart; "A blessing for me," he thought, "I see a beggar; this day I shall attain the desire of my heart [239], and I shall give an alms." When the food was ready, he took it in his bowl at once, and advancing towards Sakka, said to him, "This is my gift: be it the means of my gaining omniscience!" Then without leaving any for himself, he laid the food in the other's bowl. The brahmin took it, and moving a short way off disappeared. But the Great Being, having given his gift, cooked no more again, but sat still in joy and blessedness. Next day he cooked again, and sat as before at
the entering in of the hut. Again Sakka came in the semblance of a brahmin, and again the Great Being gave him the meal, and continued in joy and blessedness. On the third day again he gave as before, saying, "See what a blessing for me! A few kāra-leaves have begotten great merit for me." Thus in heartfelt joy, weak as he was for want of food for three days, he came out of his hut at noontide and sat in the door, reflecting upon the gift which he had given. And Sakka thought: "This brahmin fasting for three days, weak as he is, yet gives to me, and takes joy in his giving. There is no other meaning in his thoughts; I do not understand what it is he desires and why he gives these gifts, so I must ask him, and find out his meaning, and learn the cause of his giving." Accordingly he waited till past midday, and in great glory and magnificence came to the Great Being blazing like the young sun; and standing before him, put to him the question: "Ho, ascetic! why do you practise the ascetic life in this forest, surrounded by the salt sea, with hot winds beating upon you?"
"Sakka, the lord of beings, saw Akitti
honouréd:
"Why, O great Brahmin, do you rest here in the heat?" he said."
"Why, O great Brahmin, do you rest here in the heat?" he said."
[240]
"Re-birth, the body's breaking up, death,
error—all is pain:
Therefore, O Sakka Vāsava! I here in peace remain."
Hearing these words, Sakka was pleased in his heart, and thought
"He is dissatisfied with all kinds of being, and for Nirvana's sake dwells
in the forest. I will offer him a boon." Then he invited him to choose a
boon in the words of the third stanza:Therefore, O Sakka Vāsava! I here in peace remain."
"Fair spoken, Kassapa, well put, most
excellently said:
Choose now a boon—as bids your heart, so let the choice be made 1."
The Great Being repeated the fourth stanza, choosing his boon:Choose now a boon—as bids your heart, so let the choice be made 1."
"Sakka, the lord of beings all, has offered me
a boon, 2
Son, wife or treasure, grain in store, content not tho’ possessed:
I pray no lust for such as these may harbour in my breast."
Son, wife or treasure, grain in store, content not tho’ possessed:
I pray no lust for such as these may harbour in my breast."
Then Sakka, much pleased, offered yet other boons, and the Great Being accepted them, each in turn repeating a stanza as follows:
"Fair spoken, Kassapa, well put, most
excellently said:
Choose now a boon—as bids your heart, so let the choice be made."
Choose now a boon—as bids your heart, so let the choice be made."
"Sakka, the lord of beings all, has offered me
a boon.
Lands, goods, and gold, slaves, horse, and kine, grow old and pass away:
May I be not like them, nor be this fault in me, I pray."
"Fair spoken, "etc.Lands, goods, and gold, slaves, horse, and kine, grow old and pass away:
May I be not like them, nor be this fault in me, I pray."
"Sakka, the lord of all the world, has offered me a boon.
May I not see or hear a fool, nor no such dwell with me,
Nor hold no converse with a fool, nor like his company."
[241]"What has a fool e’er done to you, O Kassapa, declare!
Come tell me why fools' company is more than you can bear?"
"The fool does wickedly, binds loads on him that none should bear,
Ill-doing is his good, and he is wroth when spoken fair,
Knows not right conduct; this is why I would have no fool there."
"Fair spoken, Kassapa," etc.
"Sakka, the lord of beings all, has offered me a boon.
Be it mine the wise to see and hear, and may he dwell with me,
May I hold converse with the wise, and love his company."
"What has the wise man done to you, O Kassapa, declare!
Why do you wish that where you are, the wise man should be there?
The wise does well, no burden binds on him that none should bear,
Well-doing is his good, nor is he wroth when spoken fair,
Knows well right conduct; this is why ’tis well he should be there."
"Fair spoken, Kassapa," etc.
Sakka, the lord of beings all, has offered me a boon.
May I be free from lusts, and when the sun begins to shine
May holy mendicants appear, and grant me food divine;
"May this not dwindle as I give, nor I repent the deed,
But be my heart in giving glad: this choose I for my meed."
"Fair spoken, Kassapa, well put, most excellently said:
Choose now a boon—as bids your heart, so let the choice be made."
"Sakka, the lord of beings all, to me a boon he gave:—
O Sakka, visit me no more: this boon is all I crave."
"But many men and women too of those who live aright
Desire to see me: can there be a danger in the sight?"
"Such is thy aspect all divine, such glory and delight,
This seen, I may forget my vows: this danger has the sight."
[242]"Well, Sir," said Sakka, "I will never visit you more" ; and so saluting him, and craving his pardon, Sakka departed. The Great Being then dwelt all his life long, cultivating the Excellences, and was born again in the world of Brahma.
Footnotes
148:1 Reading tain bodhim.149:1 Canthium parviflorum.
149:2 Cf. vol. iii. p. 39 (no. 313).
150:1 The Malabar coast or Northern Ceylon.
150:2 Near Ceylon, or part of it.
151:1 This couplet has already been given: see p. 7, above.
151:2 See p: 7.
No. 481.
TAKKĀRIYA-JĀTAKA. 1
"I spoke," etc. This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, about Kokālika.During one rainy season the two Chief Disciples 2, desiring to leave the multitude and to dwell apart, took leave of the Master, and went into the kingdom where Kokālika was. They repaired to the house of Kokālika, and thus said to him: "Brother Kokālika [243], since for us it is delightful to dwell with you, and for you to dwell with us, we would abide here three months." "How," quoth the other, "will it be delightful for you to dwell with me?" They answered, "If you tell not a soul that the two Chief Disciples are dwelling here, we shall be happy, and that will be our delight in dwelling with you." "And how is it delightful for me to dwell with you?" "We will declare the Law to you three months in your house, and we will discourse to you, and that will be your delight in dwelling with us." "Dwell here, Brethren," quoth he, "so long as you will:" and he allotted a pleasant residence to them. There they dwelt in the fruition of the Attainments, and no man knew of their dwelling in that place.
When they had thus past the rains they said to him, "Brother, now we have dwelt with you, and we will go to visit the Master," and asked his leave to go. He agreed, and went with them on the rounds for alms in a village over against the place where they were. After their meal the Elders departed from the village. Kokālika leaving them, turned back and said to the people, "Lay Brethren, you are like brute animals. Here the two Chief Disciples have been dwelling for three months in the monastery opposite, and you knew nothing of it: now they are gone." "Why did you not tell us, Sir?" the people asked. Then they took ghee and oil and simples, raiment and clothes, and approached the Elders, saluting them and saying, "Pardon us, Sirs we knew not you were the Chief Disciples, we have learnt it but to-day by the words of the reverend Brother Kokālika. Pray have compassion on us, and receive these simples and clothes." Kokālika went after the Elders with them, for he thought, "Frugal the Elders are, and content with little; they will not accept these things, and then they will be given to me." But the Elders, because the gift was offered at the instigation of a Brother, neither accepted the things themselves nor had them given to Kokālika. The lay folk then said, "Sirs, if you will not accept these, come hither once again to bless us." The Elders promised, and proceeded to the Master's presence.
Now Kokālika was angry, because the Elders neither accepted those things themselves, nor had them given to him. The Elders, however, having remained a short while with the Master, chose out each five hundred Brethren as their following, and with these thousand Brethren went on pilgrimage seeking alms, as far as Kokālika's country. The lay folk came out to meet them, and led them to the same monastery, and showed them great honour day by day.
[244] Great was the store given them of clothes and of simples. Those Brethren who went out with the Elders dividing the garments gave of them to all the Brethren which had come, but to Kokālika gave none, neither did the Elders give him any. Kokālika getting no clothes began to abuse and revile the
Elders: "Sāriputta and Moggallāna are full of sinful desire; they would not accept before what was offered them, but these things they do accept. There is no satisfying them, they have no regard for another." But the Elders, perceiving that the man was harbouring evil on their account, set out with their followers to depart; nor would they return, not though the people begged them to stay yet a few days longer. Then a young Brother said: "Where shall the Elders stay, laymen? Your own particular Elder does not wish them to stay here." Then the people went to Kokālika, and said, "Sir, we are told you do not wish the Elders to stay here. Go to! Either appease them and bring them back, or away with you and live elsewhere!" In fear of the people this man went and made his request to the Elders. "Go back, Brother," answered the Elders, "we will not return." So he being unable to prevail upon them returned to the monastery. Then the lay brethren asked him whether the Elders had returned. "I could not persuade them to return," said he. "Why not, Brother?" they asked. And then they began to think it must be, no good Brethren would dwell there because the man lived in sin; they must get rid of him. "Sir," they said, "do not stay here; we have nothing here for you."
Thus dishonoured by them, he took bowl and robe and went to Jetavana. After saluting the Master, he said, "Sir, Sāriputta and Moggallāna are full of sinful desire, they are in the power of sinful desires!" The Master replied, "Say not so, Kokālika; let your heart, Kokālika, be in charity with Sāriputta and Moggallāna; learn that they are good Brethren." Kokālika said, "You believe in your two Chief Disciples, Sir; I have seen it with my own eyes; they have sinful desires, they have secrets within them, they are wicked men." So he said thrice (though the Master would have stayed him), then rose from his seat, and departed. Even as he went on his way there arose over all his body boils of the size of a mustard seed, grew and grew to the size of a ripe seed of the vilva tree 1, burst, ran blood all over him. Groaning he fell by the gate of Jetavana, maddened with pain. A great cry arose, and reached even to Brahma's world—"Kokālika has reviled the two Chief Disciples!" Then his spiritual teacher, the Brahmā angel, Tudu by name, [245] learning the fact, came with the intent of appeasing the Elders, and said while poised in the air, "Kokālika, a cruel thing this you have done; make your peace with the Chief Disciples." "Who are you, brother?" the man asked. "Tudu Brahmā, is my name," said he. "Have you not been declared by the Blessed One," said the man, "one of those who return not 2? That word means that such come not back to this earth. You will become a goblin upon a dunghill!" Thus he upbraided the great Brahma angel. And as he could not persuade the man to do as he advised, he replied to him, "May you be tormented according to your own word." Then he returned to his abode of bliss. And Kokālika dying was born again in the Lotus Hell 3. That he had been born there the great and mighty Brahmā Lord 4 told to the Tathāgata, and the Master told it to the Brethren. In the Hall of Truth the Brethren talked of the man's wickedness: "Brother, they say Kokālika reviled Sāriputta and Moggallāna, and by the words of his own mouth came to the Lotus Hell." The Master came in, and said he, "What speak ye of, Brethren, as ye sit here?" They told him. Then he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that Kokālika was destroyed by his own word, and out of his own mouth was condemned to misery; it was the same before." And he told them a story of the past.
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, his chaplain was tawny-brown 1 and had lost all his teeth. His wife committed sin with another brahmin. This man was just like the other 2. The chaplain tried times and again to restrain his wife, but could not. Then he thought, "This my enemy I cannot kill with my own hands, but I must devise some plan to kill him."
So he came before the king, and said: "O king, your city is the chiefest city of all India, and you are the chiefest king: but chief king though you are, your southern gate is unlucky, and ill put together." "Well now, my teacher, what is to be done?" "You must bring good luck into it and set it right." "What is to be done?" "We must pull down the old door, get new and lucky timbers, do sacrifice to the beings that guard the city, and set up the new on a lucky conjunction of the stars." "So do, then," said the king.
At that time, the Bodhisatta was a young man named Takkāriya, [246] who was studying under this man.
Now the chaplain caused the old gate to be pulled down, and the new was made ready; which done, he went and said to the king, "The gate is ready, my lord: to-morrow is an auspicious conjunction; before the morrow is over, we must do sacrifice and set up the new gate." "Well, my teacher, and what is necessary for the rite?" "My lord, a great gate is possessed and guarded by great spirits. A brahmin, tawny-brown and toothless, of pure blood on both sides, must be killed; his flesh and blood must be offered in worship, and his body laid beneath, and the gate raised upon it. This will bring luck to you and your city 3." "Very well, my teacher, have such a brahmin slain, and set up the gate upon him."
The chaplain was delighted. "To-morrow," said he, "I shall see the back of my enemy!" Full of energy he returned to his home, but could not keep a still tongue in his head, and said quickly to his wife," Ah, you foul hag, whom will you have now to take your pleasure with? Tomorrow I shall kill your leman and make sacrifice of him!" "Why will you kill an innocent man?" "The king has commanded me to slay and sacrifice a tawny-brown brahmin, and to set up the city gate upon him.
Your leman is tawny-brown, and I mean to slay him for the sacrifice. "She sent her paramour a message, saying, "They say the king wishes to slay a tawny-brown brahmin in sacrifice; if you would save your life, flee away in time, and with you all they who are like you." So the man did: the news spread abroad in the city, and all those in the whole city who were tawny-brown fled away.
The chaplain, nothing aware of his enemy's flight, went early next morning to the king, and said, "My lord, in such a place is a tawny-brown brahmin to be found; have him taken." The king sent some men for him, but they saw none, and returning informed the king that he was fled away. "Search elsewhere," said the king. [247] All over the city they searched, but found none. "Search quickly!" said the king. "My lord," they replied, "except your chaplain there is no such other." "A chaplain," quoth he, "cannot be killed." "What do you say, my lord? According to the chaplain, if the gate is not set up to-day, the city will be in danger. When the chaplain explained the matter, he said that if we let this day go by, the auspicious moment will not come again until the end of a year. The city without a gate for a year, what a chance for our enemies! Let us kill some one, and sacrifice by the aid of some other wise brahmin, and set up the gate." "But is there another wise brahmin like my teacher?" "There is, my lord, his pupil, a young man named Takkāriya; make him your chaplain and do the lucky ceremony." The king sent for him, and did honour to him, and made him chaplain, and commanded to do as had been said. The young man went to the gate with a great crowd following. In the king's name they bound and brought the chaplain. The Great Being caused a pit to be dug in the place where the gate was to be set up, and a tent to be placed over it, and with his teacher entered into the tent. The teacher beholding the pit, and seeing no escape, said to. the Great Being, "My aim had succeeded. Fool that I was, I could not keep a still tongue, but hastily told that wicked woman. I have slain myself with my own weapon." Then he recited the first stanza:
"I spoke in folly, as a frog might call
Upon a snake i’ the forest: so I fall
Into this pit, Takkāriyā 1. How true,
Words spoken out of season one must rue!"
[248] Then the other addressing him, recited this stanza:Upon a snake i’ the forest: so I fall
Into this pit, Takkāriyā 1. How true,
Words spoken out of season one must rue!"
"The man who out of season speaks, will go
Like this to ruin, lamentation, woe:
Here you should blame yourself, now you must have
This delvèd pit, my teacher, for your grave."
To these words he added yet this: "O teacher, not thou only,
but Like this to ruin, lamentation, woe:
Here you should blame yourself, now you must have
This delvèd pit, my teacher, for your grave."
many another likewise, has come to misery because he set not a watch upon his words." So saying, he told him a story of the past to prove it.
Once upon a time, they say, there lived a courtesan in Benares named Kālī, and she had a brother named Tuṇḍila. In one day Kālī would earn a thousand pieces of money. Now Tuṇḍila was a debauchee, a drunkard, a gambler; she gave him money, and whatever he got he wasted. Do what she would to restrain him, restrain him she could not. One day he was beaten at hazard, and lost the very clothes he was clad in. Wrapping about him a rag of loin-cloth, he repaired to his sister's house. But command had been given by her to her serving-maids, [249] that if Tuṇḍila should come, they were to give him nothing, but to take him by the throat and cast him out. And so they did: he stood by the threshold, and made his moan. Now a certain rich merchant's son, who used constantly to give Kālī a thousand pieces of money, on that day happened to see him, and says he, "Why are you weeping, Tuṇḍila?" "Master," said he, "I have been beaten at the dice, and came to my sister; and the serving-maids took me by the throat and cast me out." "Well, stay here," quoth the other, "and I will speak to your sister." He entered the house, and said, "Your brother stands waiting, clad in a rag of loin-cloth. Why do you not give him something to wear?" "Indeed," she replied, "I will give nothing. If you are fond of him, give it yourself." Now in that house of ill fame the fashion was this: out of every thousand pieces of money received, five hundred were for the woman, five hundred were the price of clothes, perfumes and garlands; the men who visited that house received garments to clothe themselves in, and stayed the night there, then on the next day they put off the garments they had received, and put on those they had brought, and went their ways. On this occasion the merchant's son put on the garments provided for him, and gave his own clothes to Tuṇḍila. He put them on, and with loud shouts hastened to the tavern. But Kālī ordered her women that when the young man should depart next day, they should take away his clothes. Accordingly, when he came forth, they ran up from this side and that, like so many robbers, and took the clothes from him, and stript him naked, saying, "Now, young sir, be off!" Thus they got rid of him. Away he went naked: the people made sport of him, and he was ashamed, and lamented, saying, "It is my own doing, because I could not keep watch over my lips!" To make this clear, the Great Being recited the third stanza:
"Why ask of Tuṇḍila
how he should fare
At Kālikā his sister's hands? now see!
My clothes are gone, naked am I and bare;
’Tis monstrous like what happened late to thee."
[250] Another person relates this story. By carelessness of the
goat herds,At Kālikā his sister's hands? now see!
My clothes are gone, naked am I and bare;
’Tis monstrous like what happened late to thee."
two rains fell a-fighting on a pasture at Benares. As they were hard at it, a certain fork-tail thought to himself, "These two will crack their polls and perish; I must restrain them." So he tried to restrain them by calling out—"Uncle, don't fight!" Not a word he got from them: in the midst of the battle, mounting first on the back, then on the head, he besought them to stop, but could do nothing. At last he cried, "Fight, then, but kill me first!" and placed himself between the two heads. They went on butting away at each other. The bird was crushed as by a pounder, and came to destruction by his own act. To explain this other tale the Great Being repeated the fourth stanza:
"Between two fighting rams a fork-tail flew,
Though in the fray he had no part nor share.
The two rams' heads did crush him then and there.
He in his fate was monstrous like to you!"
Another. There was a tal-tree which the cowherds set great store
by. The people of Benares seeing it sent a certain man up the tree to gather
fruit. As he was throwing down the fruit, a black snake issuing forth from an
anthill began to ascend the tree; they who stood below tried to drive him off
by striking at him with sticks and other things, but could not. Then they
called out to the other, "A snake is climbing the tree!" and he in
terror uttered a loud cry. Those who stood below seized a stout cloth by the
four corners, and bade him fall into the cloth. He let himself drop, and fell
in the midst of the cloth between the four of them; swift as the wind he came,
and the men could not hold him, [251] but jolled their four heads together and
broke them, and so died. To explain this story the Great Being recited the
fifth stanza:Though in the fray he had no part nor share.
The two rams' heads did crush him then and there.
He in his fate was monstrous like to you!"
"Four men, to save a fellow from his fate,
Held the four corners of a cloth below.
They all fell dead, each with a broken pate.
These men were monstrous like to you, I trow."
Others again tell this. Some goat-thieves who lived at Benares
having stolen a she-goat one night, determined to make a meal in the forest: to
prevent her bleating they muffled her snout and tied her up in a bamboo clump.
Next day, on their way to kill her, they forgot the chopper. "Now we'll
kill the goat, and cook her," said they; "bring the chopper
here!" But nobody had one. "Without a chopper," said they,
"we cannot eat the beast, even if we kill her: let her go! this is due to
some merit of hers." So they let her go. Now it happened that a worker in
bamboos, who had been there for a bundle of them, left a basket-maker's knife
there hidden among the leaves, intending to use it when he came again. But the
goat, thinking herself to be free, began playing about under the bamboo clump,
and kicking with her hind legs made the knife drop. The thieves heard the sound
of the falling knife, and on coming toHeld the four corners of a cloth below.
They all fell dead, each with a broken pate.
These men were monstrous like to you, I trow."
find out what it was, saw it, to their great delight; then they killed the goat, and ate her flesh 1. Thus to explain how this she-goat was killed by her own act, the Great Being recited the sixth stanza:
"A she-goat, in a bamboo thicket bound,
Frisking about, herself a knife had found.
With that same knife they cut the creature's throat.
It strikes me you are monstrous like that goat."
[252] After recounting this, he explained, "But they who are
moderate of speech, by watching their words have often been freed from the fate
of death," and then told a story of fairies 2.Frisking about, herself a knife had found.
With that same knife they cut the creature's throat.
It strikes me you are monstrous like that goat."
A hunter, we are told, who lived in Benares, being once in the region of Himalaya, by some means or other captured a brace of supernatural beings, a nymph and her husband; and them he took and presented to the king. The king had never seen such beings before. "Hunter," quoth he, "what kind of creatures are these?" Said the man, "My lord, these can sing with a honey-voice, they dance delightfully: no men are able to dance or sing as they can." The king bestowed a great reward on the hunter, and commanded the fairies to sing and dance. But they thought, "If we are not able to convey the full sense of our song, the song will be a failure, they will abuse and hurt us; and then again, those who speak much speak falsely:" so for fear of some falsehood or other they neither sang nor danced, for all the king begged them again and again. At last the king grew angry, and said, "Kill these creatures, and cook them, and serve them up to me." This command he delivered in the words of the seventh stanza:
"No gods are these nor heaven's
musicianers 3,
Beasts brought by one who fain would fill his purse.
So for my supper let them cook me one,
And one for breakfast by the morrow's sun."
Then the fairy-dame thought to herself," Now the king is
angry; without doubt he will kill us. Now it is time to speak."And
immediately she recited a stanza:Beasts brought by one who fain would fill his purse.
So for my supper let them cook me one,
And one for breakfast by the morrow's sun."
"A hundred thousand ditties all sung wrong
All are not worth a tithe of one good song.
To sing ill is a crime; and this is why
(Not out of folly) fairy would not try."
All are not worth a tithe of one good song.
To sing ill is a crime; and this is why
(Not out of folly) fairy would not try."
[253] The king, pleased with the fairy, at once recited a stanza:
"She that hath spoken, let her go, that she
The Himalaya hill again may see,
But let them take and kill the other one,
And for to-morrow's breakfast have him done."
But the other fairy thought, "If I hold my tongue, surely the
king will kill me; now is the time to speak;" and then he recited another
stanza:The Himalaya hill again may see,
But let them take and kill the other one,
And for to-morrow's breakfast have him done."
"The kine depend upon the clouds 1, and men upon the
kine,
And I, O king! depend on thee, on me this wife of mine.
Let one, before he seek the hills, the other's fate divine."
When he had said this, he repeated a couple of stanzas, to make it
clear, that they had been silent not from unwillingness to obey the king's
word, but because they saw that speaking would be a mistake.And I, O king! depend on thee, on me this wife of mine.
Let one, before he seek the hills, the other's fate divine."
"O monarch! other peoples, other ways:
’Tis very hard to keep you clear of blame.
[254] The very thing which for the one wins praise,
Another finds reproof for just the same.
’Tis very hard to keep you clear of blame.
[254] The very thing which for the one wins praise,
Another finds reproof for just the same.
"Some one there is who each man foolish
finds 2;
Each by imagination different still;
All different, many men and many minds,
No universal law is one man's will."
Quoth the king, "He speaks the truth; ’tis a sapient
fairy;" and much pleased he recited the last stanza:Each by imagination different still;
All different, many men and many minds,
No universal law is one man's will."
"Silent they were, the fairy and his mate:
And he who now did utter speech for fear,
Unhurt, free, happy, let him go his gait.
This is the speech brings good, as oft we hear."
Then the king placed the two fairies in a golden cage, and sending
for the huntsman, made him set them free in the same place where he had caught
them.And he who now did utter speech for fear,
Unhurt, free, happy, let him go his gait.
This is the speech brings good, as oft we hear."
[255] The Great Being added, "See, my teacher! In this manner the fairies kept watch on their words, and by speaking at the right time were set free for their well speaking; but you by your ill speaking have come to great misery." Then after showing him this parallel, he comforted him, saying, "Fear not, my teacher; I will save your life." "Is there indeed a way," asked the other, "how you can save me?" He replied, "It is not yet the proper conjunction of the planets." He let the day go by, and in
p. 161
the middle watch of the night brought thither a dead goat. "Go when you will, brahmin, and live," said he, then let him go and never a soul the wiser. And he did sacrifice with the flesh of the goat, and set up the gate upon it.
Footnotes
153:1 See L. Feer in Journal Asiatique, ix. Ser., xi. 189 ff. Compare also Zeitschr. der deutsch. morg. Gesellschaft, xlvii. 86, on αἲξ μάχαιραν.153:2 Sāriputta and Moggallāna.
154:1 Aegle Marmelos.
154:2 Anāgāmi, those of the Third Path, who return not to be reborn on earth.
154:3 Not in Hardy's list of the chief Hells (Manual, p. 26); but there were 136 of them. Burnouf gives it, Introd. p. 201.
154:4 Sahampati; the meaning of the first part is unknown; he is the chief of the Brahma Heaven, of which Tudu is an angel.
155:1 Piṅgalo is not a proper name; see p. 246. 6 (Pāli).
155:2 A full stop should be placed at va. As printed, this sentence is unintelligible.
155:3 Human sacrifice at the founding of a building, or the like, must have been common in ancient times, so persistent are the traditions about it. For India, see Crooke, Intr. to Pop. Rel. and F.-L. of N. India, p. 237 and Index. When the Hooghly Bridge was built in Calcutta, I remember how it was commonly said by the natives that the builders had immured many young children in the foundations. For Greece it is attested by modern folk-songs such as the Bridge of Arta (Passow, Carm. Pop. Gr. no. 512), and one which I lately wrote down in Cos from oral tradition (published in Folk-Lore for 1899). The sacrifice is meant to propitiate the spirits disturbed by the digging. See Robertson Smith, Religion of the Semites, p. 158.
156:1 The name here is feminine, as the scholiast notes without explanation.
159:1
Zenobius, Prov. Cent. I. 27. So Suidas.
159:2 kinnarā.
159:3 gandhabbaputtā.
160:1 Because their food (grass etc.) depends on rain.
160:2 Reading paracitte: "everybody is foolish in some other man's opinion." In line 2, there may be a pun on citto (various): "all the world becomes different through the power of thought."
No. 482.
RURU-JĀTAKA.
"I bring you tidings," etc. This story the Master told while dwelling in the Bamboo-grove, about Devadatta. One might say to him, "The Master is most useful to you, friend Devadatta. You received holy orders from the Tathāgata, from him you learnt the Three Baskets, you obtained gifts and honour." When such things were said, it is credibly reported he would reply, "No, friend; the Master has done me no good, not so much as a blade of grass is worth. Of myself I received holy orders, myself I learned the Three Baskets, by myself I gained gifts and honour." In the Hall of Truth the Brethren talked of all this: "Ungrateful is Devadatta, my friend, and forgets a kindness done." The Master came in, and would know what they talked of sitting there. They told him. Said he, "It is not now the first time, Brethren, that Devadatta is ungrateful, but ungrateful he was before; and in days long gone by his life was saved by me, yet he knew not the greatness of my merit." So saying, he told a story of the past.family treasure laid up and buried on the bank of the Ganges, and you shall have that." They went along with him. He made as though he were pointing out here and there the hiding place of his treasure (but all the while he intended to fall into the river and drown), and finally ran and threw himself into the Ganges. As the torrent bore him away, he cried aloud with a pitiful cry.
Now at that time the Great Being had been born as a Deer, and having abandoned the herd, was dwelling near a bend of the river all by himself, in a clump of sal trees mixt with fair-flowering mangoes: the skin of his body was of the colour of a gold plate well burnished, forefeet and hindfeet seemed as it were covered with lac, his tail like the tail of a wild ox, the horns of him were as spirals of silver, eyes had he like bright polished gems, when he turned his mouth in any direction it seemed like a ball of red cloth. About midnight he heard this sad outcry, and thought, "I hear the voice of a man. While I live let him not die! I will save his life for him." Arising from off his resting place in the bush, he went down to the river bank, and called out in a comfortable voice, "Ho man! have no fear, I will save you alive." Then he cleft the current, and swam to him, and placed him upon his back, and bore him to the bank and to his own dwelling-place; where for two or three days he fed him with wild fruits 1 After this he said to the man, "O man, I will now convey you out of this wood, and set you in the road to Benares, and you shall go in peace. But I pray you, be not led away by greed of gain to tell the king or some great man, that in such a place is a golden deer to be found." The man promised to observe his words; and the Great Being, having received his promise, took him upon his back and carried him to the road to Benares, and went his way.
On the day when he reached Benares, the Queen Consort, whose name was Khemā, saw at morning in a dream how a deer of golden colour preached the Law to her; [257] and she thought, "If there were no such creature as this, I should not have seen him in my dream. Surely there must be such a one; I will announce it to the king."
Then she went to the king, and said, "Great king! I am anxious to hear the discourse of a golden deer. If I may, I shall live, but if not there is no living for me." The king comforted her, saying, "If such a creature exists in the world of men, you shall have it." Then he sent for the brahmins, and put the question—"Are there such things as gold-coloured deer?" "Yes, there are, my lord." The king laid upon the back of an elephant richly caparisoned a purse of a thousand pieces of money enclosed within a casket of gold: whoso should bring word of a golden deer, the king was willing to give him the purse with a thousand pieces,
the casket of gold, and that elephant withal or a better. He caused a stanza to be engraved upon a tablet of gold, and delivered this to one of his court, bidding him cry the stanza in his name among all the townsfolk. Then he recited that stanza which comes first in this Birth:
"Who brings me tidings of that deer, choicest
of all the breed?
Fair women and a village choice who wins him for his meed?"
The courtier took the golden plate, and caused it to be proclaimed
throughout all the city. Just then this young merchant's son was entering
Benares; and on hearing the proclamation, he approached the courtier, and said,
"I can bring the king news of such a deer; take me into his
presence." The courtier dismounted from his elephant, and led him before
the king, saying, "This man, my lord, says he can tell you tidings of the
deer." Quoth the king, "Is this true, man?" He answered, "It
is true, O great king! you shall give me that honour." And he recited the
second stanza:Fair women and a village choice who wins him for his meed?"
"I bring you tidings of that deer, choicest of
all the breed:
Fair women and a village choice then give me for my meed."
The king was glad when he heard these words of the treacherous
friend. "Come now," said he, "where is this deer to be
found?" "In such a place, my lord," he replied, and declared the
way they should go. With a great following he made the traitor guide him to the
place, and then he said, [258] "Order the army to halt." When the
army was brought to a halt, he went on, pointing with his hand, "There is
the golden deer, in that place yonder:" and he repeated the third stanza:Fair women and a village choice then give me for my meed."
"Within yon clump of flowering sal and mango,
where the ground
Is all as red as cochineal, this deer is to be found."
When the king heard these words, he said to his courtiers,
"Suffer not the deer to escape, but with all speed set a circle about the
grove, the men with their weapons in hand." They did so, and made an
outcry. The king with a certain number of others was standing apart, and this
man also stood not far off. The Great Being heard the sound, and thought he,
"It is the sound of a great host, therefore I must beware of them 1." He rose, and
spying at all the company perceived the place where the king stood. "Where
the king stands," thought he, "I shall be safe, and thither I must
go;" and he ran towards the king. When the king saw him coming, he said,
"A creature strong as an elephant would throw down everything in its path.
I will put arrow to string and frighten the beast; if he is for running I will
shoot him and make him weak, that I may take him." Then stringing his bow,
he stood facing the Bodhisatta.Is all as red as cochineal, this deer is to be found."
To explain this matter, the Master repeated a couple of stanzas:
"Forward he went: the bow was bent, the arrow
on the string 1;
When thus from far the deer called out, as he beheld the king:
"O lord of charioteers, great king, stand still! and do not
wound:When thus from far the deer called out, as he beheld the king:
Who brought the news to you, that here this deer was to be found?"
"That sinful man, my worthy friend, that
yonder stands his ground,
He brought the news to me, that here the deer was to be found."
On hearing this, the Great Being rebuked his treacherous friend,
and addressing the king recited the seventh stanza:He brought the news to me, that here the deer was to be found."
"Upon the earth are many men, of whom the
proverb's true:
’Twere better save a drowning log than such a one as you 2."
When he heard this, the king repeated another stanza:’Twere better save a drowning log than such a one as you 2."
"Who is it you would blame in this, O deer?
Is it some man, or is it beast or bird?
[260] I am possessed with an unbounded fear
At this your human speech which late I heard."
Hereupon the Great Being replied, "O great king, I blame no
beast and I blame no bird, but a man:" to explain which he repeated the
ninth stanza:Is it some man, or is it beast or bird?
[260] I am possessed with an unbounded fear
At this your human speech which late I heard."
"I saved him once, when like to drown
On the swift swelling tide that bore him down:
And now I am in danger through it.
Go with the wicked, and be sure you'll rue it."
The king when he heard this was wroth with the man.
"What?" quoth he, "not to recognise his merit after such a good
service! I will shoot him and kill him!" He then repeated the tenth
stanza:On the swift swelling tide that bore him down:
And now I am in danger through it.
Go with the wicked, and be sure you'll rue it."
"This four-winged flyer I'll let fly,
And pierce him to the heart! So let him perish,
The evil-doer in his treachery,
Who for such kindness done no thanks did cherish!"
And pierce him to the heart! So let him perish,
The evil-doer in his treachery,
Who for such kindness done no thanks did cherish!"
Then the Great Being thought, "I would not have him perish on my account," and uttered the eleventh stanza:
[261]
"Shame on the fool, O king, indeed!
But no good men approve a killing;
Let the wretch go, and give his meed,
All that you promised him fulfilling:
And I will serve you at your need."
The king was very glad to hear this, and lauding him, uttered the
next stanza:But no good men approve a killing;
Let the wretch go, and give his meed,
All that you promised him fulfilling:
And I will serve you at your need."
"Surely this deer is good indeed,
To pay back ill for ill unwilling.
Let the wretch go! I give his meed,
All that I promised him fulfilling.
And you go where you will—good speed!"
At this the Great Being said, "O mighty king, men say one
thing with their lips, and do another;" to expound which matter he recited
two stanzas:To pay back ill for ill unwilling.
Let the wretch go! I give his meed,
All that I promised him fulfilling.
And you go where you will—good speed!"
"The cry of jackals and of birds is understood
with ease;
Yea, but the word of men, O king, is harder far than these.
"A man may think, "This is my friend, my comrade, of my
kin;"Yea, but the word of men, O king, is harder far than these.
But friendship goes, and often hate and enmity begin 1."
When the king heard these words, he answered, "O king of the deer! do not suppose that I am one of that kind; for I will not deny the boon I have promised you, not even if I lose my kingdom for it. [262] Trust me." And he gave him choice of a boon. The Great Being accepted this boon at his hands, and chose this: That all creatures, beginning with himself, should be free from danger. This boon the king granted, and then took him back to the city of Benares, and having adorned and decorated the city, and the Great Being also, caused him to discourse to the queen his wife. The Great Being discoursed to the queen, and afterwards to the king and all his court, in a human voice sweet as honey; he admonished the king to hold fast by the Ten Virtues of Kings, and he comforted the great multitude, and then returned to the woodland, where he dwelt among a herd of deer.
The king sent a drum beating about the city, with this proclamation: "I give protection to all creatures!" From that time onwards no one durst so much as raise hand against beast or bird.
Herds of deer devoured the crops of mankind, and no one was able to drive them away. A crowd assembled in the king's courtyard, and complained.
To make this clear, the Master repeated the following stanza:
"The country-folk and townsfolk all straight
to the king they went:
"The deer are eating up our crops: this let the king prevent!"
"The deer are eating up our crops: this let the king prevent!"
"Be it the people's wish or no, e’en if my
kingdom cease,
I cannot wrong the deer, to whom I promised life and peace.
"The people may desert me all, my royal power may die,I cannot wrong the deer, to whom I promised life and peace.
The boon I gave that royal deer I never will deny."
The people listened to the king's words, and finding themselves unable to say anything, departed. This saying was spread abroad. The Great Being heard of it, and assembling all the deer, laid his bidding on them: "From this time forward you must not devour the crops of men." [263] He then sent a message to men, that each should set up a placard on his own lands. The men did so; and at that sign even to this day the deer do not devour the crops.
Footnotes
162:1 Read phalāphalāni.163:1 Reading purisabhayena, or omitting me (with this it would be "I must beware of that man").
164:1 This line is almost identical with iii. 274. 12 (p. 174, line 12 of this translation).
164:2 These lines are found in vol. i. p. 326. 8 (i. 180 of this translation).
165:1 These lines have been used before: pages 135 and 141.
No. 483.
SARABHA-MIGA-JĀTAKA. 1
"Toil on, O man," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, to explain fully a question concisely put by himself to the Commander of the Faith.At that time the Master put a question concisely to that Elder. This is the full story, put briefly, of the descent from the world of gods. When the Reverend Piṇḍola-Bhāradvāja had by his supernatural power gained the sandal-wood bowl in the presence of the great merchant of Rājagaha 2, the Master forbade the Brethren to use their miraculous powers.
Then the schismatics thought, "The ascetic Gotama has forbidden the use of miraculous power: now he will do no miracle himself." Their disciples were disturbed, and said to the schismatics, "Why didn't you take the bowl by your supernatural power?" They replied: "This is no hard thing for us, friend. But we think, Who will display before the laity his own fine and subtile powers for the sake of a paltry wooden bowl? and so we did not take it. The ascetics of the Sakya class took it, and showed their supernatural power for sheer foolish greed. Do not imagine it is any trouble to us to work miracles. Suppose we leave out of consideration the disciples of Gotama the ascetic: if we like, we too will show our supernatural powers with the ascetic Gotama himself: if the ascetic Gotama works one miracle, we will work one twice as good."
The Brethren who heard this told the Blessed One of it: "Sir, the schismatics say they will work a miracle." Said the Master, "Let them do it, Brethren; I will do the like." Bimbisāra, hearing this, went and asked the Blessed One: "Will you work a miracle, Sir?" "Yes, O king." "Was there not a command given on this matter, Sir?" "The command, O king, was given to my disciples; there is no command which can rule the Buddhas. [264] When the flowers and fruit in your park are forbidden 1 to others, the same rule does not apply to you." "Then where will you work this miracle, Sir?" "At Sāvatthi, under a knot-mango tree." "What have I to do, then?" "Nothing, Sire."
Next day, after breaking his fast, the Master went to seek alms. "Whither goes the Master?" asked the people. The Brethren answered to them, "At the gate of the city of Sāvatthi, beneath a knot-mango tree, he is to work a twofold miracle to the confounding of the schismatics." The crowd said, "This miracle will be what they call a masterpiece; we will go see it:" leaving the doors of their houses, they went along with the Master. Some of the schismatics also followed the Master, with their disciples: "We too," they said, "will work a miracle, in the place where the ascetic Gotama shall work his."
By and bye the Master arrived at Sāvatthi. The king asked him, "Is it true, Sir, you are about to work a miracle, as they say?" "Yes, it is true," he said. "When?" asked the king. "On the seventh day from now, at the full moon of the month of June." "Shall I set up a pavilion, Sir?" "Peace, great king: in the place where I shall work my miracle Sakka will set up a pavilion of jewels twelve leagues in compass." "Shall I proclaim this thing through the city, Sir?" "Proclaim it, O king." The king sent forth the Crier of the Truth on an elephant richly caparisoned, to proclaim thus: "News! the Master is about to perform a miracle, for the confounding of the schismatics, at the Gate of Sāvatthi, under a knot-mango tree, seven days from now!" Each day was this proclamation made. When the schismatics heard this news, that the miracle will be done under a knot-mango tree, they had all the mango trees near to Sāvatthi cut down, paying the owners for them.
On the night of the full moon the Crier of the Truth made proclamation, "This day 2 in the morning the miracle will take place." By the power of the gods it was as though all India was at the door and heard the proclamation; whosoever had it in his heart to go, they all beheld themselves at Sāvatthi: for twelve leagues the crowd extended.
Early in the morning the Master went on his rounds seeking alms. The king's gardener, Gaṇḍa or Knot by name, was just taking to the king a fine ripe mango fruit; thoroughly ripe, big as a bushel, when he espied the Master at the city gate.."This fruit is worthy of the Master," said he, and gave it to him. The Master took it, and sitting down then and there on one side, ate the fruit. When it was eaten, he said, "Ānanda, give the gardener this stone to plant here on the spot; [265] this shall be the knot-mango tree." The Elder did so. The gardener dug a hole in the earth, and planted it. On the
instant the stone burst, roots sprouted forth, up sprang a red shoot tall as a plough-pole; even as the crowd stared it grew into a mango tree of a hundred cubits, with a trunk fifty cubits and branches of fifty cubits in height; at the same time flowers bloomed, fruit ripened; the tree stood filling the sky, covered with bees, loaden with golden fruit; when the wind blew on it, sweet fruits fell; then the Brethren came up and ate of the fruit, and retired. In the evening time the king of the gods, reflecting, perceived that it was a task laid on him to make a pavilion of the seven precious things. So he sent Vissakamma, and caused him to make a pavilion of the seven precious things, twelve leagues in compass, covered all over with blue lotus. Thus the gods of ten thousand spheres were gathered together. The Master, having for the confounding of the schismatics performed a twofold miracle passing marvellous among his disciples, caused faith to spring up in multitudes, then arose and, sitting in the Buddha's seat, declared the Law. Twenty crores of beings drank of the waters of life. Then, meditating to see whither it was that former Buddhas went when they had done a miracle, and perceiving that it was to the Heaven of the Thirty-three, up he rose from the Buddha's seat, the right foot he placed on the top of Mount Yugandhara 1, and with his left strode to the peak of Sineru, he began the season of rains under the great Coral Tree 2, seated upon the yellow-stone throne; for the space of three months he discoursed upon transcendental doctrine 3 to the gods.
The people knew not the place whither the Master had gone; they looked, and said, "Let us go home," and abode in that place during the rainy season. When the lenten season was near to its end, and the feast was at hand, the great Elder Moggallāna went and announced it to the Blessed One. Thereupon the Master asked him, "Where is Sāriputta now?" "He, Sir, after the miracle which delighted him, remained with five hundred Brethren in the city of Samkassa, and is there still." "Moggallāna, on the seventh day from now I shall descend by the gate of Samkassa. Let those who desire to behold the Tathāgata assemble in the city of Samkassa." The Elder assented, went and told the people: the whole company he transported from Sāvatthi to Samkassa, a distance of thirty leagues, in the twinkling of an eye. Lent over, and the feast celebrated, the Master told king Sakka that he was about to return to the world of men. Then Sakka sent for Vissakamma, and said to him, "Make a stairway for the Dasabala to descend into the world of men." He placed the head of the stairway upon the peak of Sineru, and the foot of it by the gate of Samkassa, and between he made three descents side by side: one of gems, one of silver, and one of gold: [266] the balustrade and cornice were of the seven things of price. The Master, having performed a miracle for the world's emancipation, descended by the midmost stair made out of gems. Sakka carried the bowl and robe, Suyāma a yak's-tail fan, Brahma Lord of all beings bore a sunshade, and the deities of ten thousand spheres did worship with divine garlands and perfumes. When the Master stood at the foot of the staircase, first Elder Sāriputta gave him greeting, afterwards the rest of the company.
Amidst this assembly the Master thought, "Moggallāna has been shown to possess supernatural power, Upāli as one who is versed in the sacred law, but the quality of high wisdom possessed by Sāriputta has not been shown. Save and except me, no other possesses wisdom so full and complete as his; I will make known the quality of his wisdom." First of all he asked a question which is put to ordinary persons, and the ordinary persons answered it. Then he asked a question within the scope of those of the First Path, and this they of the First Path answered, but the ordinary folk knew nought of it. In the same way he asked questions in turn within the scope of those of the Second and
Third Paths, of the Saints, of the Chief Disciples; and in each case those who were below each grade in turn were unable to answer, but they who were above could answer. Then he put a question within the power of Sāriputta, and this the Elder could answer, but the others not so. The people asked, "Who is this Elder who answered the Master?" They were told, it was the Captain of the Faith, and Sāriputta was his name. "Ah, great is his wisdom!" they said. Ever afterwards the quality of the Elder's great wisdom was known to men and to gods. Then the Master said to him,
"Some have probations yet to pass, and some
have reached the goal:
Their different deportments say, for thou dost know the whole 1."
Having thus asked a question which comes within a Buddha's scope,
he added, "Here is a point put with brevity, Sāriputta; what is the
meaning of the matter in all its bearings?" The Elder considered the
problem. Thought he, "The Master asks of the proper deportment with which
the Brethren attain progress, both those who are in the lower Paths and those
who are Saints?" As to the general question, he had no doubt. But then he
considered, "The proper manner of deportment may be described in many ways
of speaking according to the essential elements of being 2, and so forth from
that beginning; now in what fashion can I hit the Master's meaning?" He
was doubtful about the meaning. The Master thought, "Sāriputta has no
doubt of the general question, but doubts what particular side of it I have in
view. If I give no clue, he will never be able to answer, so a clue [267] I
will give him." This clue he gave by saying, "See here, Sāriputta:
you grant this to be true?" (mentioning some point). Sāriputta granted the
point.Their different deportments say, for thou dost know the whole 1."
The hint thus given, he knew that Sāriputta had taken his meaning, and would answer fully, starting from the very elements of being. Then the question stood out clear before the Elder, as with a hundred hints, nay, a thousand; and he, at the Master's hint given, answered the question which belonged to a Buddha's scope.
The Master declared the Law to this company which covered twelve leagues of ground: thirty crores of beings drank of the waters of life.
The company was dismissed, and the Master, going on pilgrimage for alms, came by and bye to Sāvatthi. Next day, after seeking alms in Sāvatthi, he came back from his rounds, and told the Brethren of their duty, and entered his Perfumed Chamber. At evening time, the Brethren talked of the high worth of the Elder as they sat in the Hall of Truth. "Great in wisdom, Sirs, is Sāriputta; he has wisdom wide, wisdom swift, wisdom sharp, wisdom keen. The Master put a question in brief, and he answered it fully at large." The Master entering asked what they talked of as they sat there. They told him. "This is not the first time, Brethren," said he, "that he answered at large a question briefly put, but he has done so before;" and he told them a story of the past.
we must drive him to the place where the king is." They made a pact among them to this effect, and posted the king at the end of the path. Then they surrounded a great covert and began to beat on the ground with cudgels and the like. The first to be put up was our stag. Thrice he went round the thicket, looking for a chance of escape: on all other sides he saw men standing without a break, arm jostling arm and bow bow; only where the king was could he see a chance. [268] With eyes glaring, he rushed at the king, dazzling him as though he cast sand in his eyes. Quickly the king saw him, shot an arrow, and missed. You must know these deer are clever to keep clear of arrows. When the shafts come straight at them, the deer stand still and let them fly; let them come from behind, the deer outfly them faster; if they fall from above, they bend the back; from the side, they swerve a little; if the shafts are aimed at the belly, they roll right over, and when they have gone by, off go the deer swift as a cloud which the wind scatters. Thus the king, when he saw this stag roll over, thought he was hit and gave the halloa. Up rose the stag, swift as the wind he was off, breaking the circle of men. The courtiers on both sides who saw the stag get away collected together, and asked, "Whose post did the stag make for?" "The king's!" "But the king is shouting, I've hit him! What has he hit? Our king has missed, I tell you! He has hit the ground!" Thus they made sport of the king, and no stint. "These fellows are laughing at me," thought the king; "they know not my measure." Then girding up his loins, on foot, and sword in hand, he set off at speed crying, "I will catch the stag!" He kept him in sight and chased him for three leagues. The stag plunged into the forest, in plunged the king also. Now in the stag's way was a pit, a great hole where a tree had rotted away, sixty cubits deep, and full of water to a depth of thirty cubits, yet covered over with weeds. The stag sniffed the smell of the water, and perceiving that it was a pit, swerved aside somewhat from his course. But the king went straight on, and fell in. The stag, no longer hearing the sound of his footsteps, turned him about; and seeing no man, understood that he must have fallen into the pit. So he went and looked, and saw him in dire straits, struggling in the deep water; for the evil he had done the stag bore no malice, [269] but pitifully thought, "Let not the king perish before my eyes: I will set him free from this distress." Standing upon the edge of the pit, he cried out, "Fear nothing, O king, for I will deliver you from your distress." Then with an effort, as earnest as though he would save his own beloved son, he supported himself upon the rock; and that king who had come after him to slay, him he drew up from out of the pit, sixty cubits in depth, and comforted him, and set him upon his own back, and led him forth from the forest, and set him down not far from his army. Then he admonished the king, and established him in the Five Virtues. But the king could
not leave the Great Being, but said to him: "My lord king of the stags, come with me to Benares, for I give thee the lordship over Benares, a city that spreads over twelve leagues, that you may rule over it." But he said, "Great king, I am one of the animals, and I want no kingdom. If you have any care for me, keep the good precepts I have taught you, and teach your subjects to keep them too." With this advice, he returned into the forest. And the king returned to his army, and as he remembered the noble qualities of the stag his eyes filled with tears. Surrounded by a division of his army, he went through the city, while the drum of the Law was beat, and caused this proclamation to be made: "From this day forward, let all the dwellers in this city observe the five virtues."
But he told no one of the kindness done to him by the Great Being. After eating many choice meats, in the evening time, he reclined upon his gorgeous couch, and at daybreak remembering the noble qualities of the Great Being, he rose up and sat on the couch cross-legged, and with heart full of joy chanted his aspirations in six stanzas:
"Hope on O man, if thou be wise, nor let thy
courage tire:
Myself I see, who now have won the goal of my desire. 1
"Hope on O man, if thou be wise, tire not though harassed
sore:Myself I see, who now have won the goal of my desire. 1
Myself I see, who from the waves have fought my way ashore. 2
"Toil on O man, if thou be wise, nor let thy courage tire:
Myself I see, who now have won the goal of my desire.
"Toil on O man, if thou be wise, tire not though harassed sore:
Myself I see, who from the waves have fought my way ashore.
"He that is wise, though overcome with pain,
Would never cease to hope for bliss again.
[270] Many are men's feelings, both of joy and woe:
They think not of it, yet to death they go."
"That comes to pass which is not thought; and that is thought of, fails:
For man or woman's happiness not thought alone avails."
As the king was in the act of chanting these lines, the sun uprose. His chaplain had come thus early to enquire after the king's welfare, and as he stood at the door he heard the sound of this chant, and thought to himself: "Yesterday the king went a-hunting. Doubtless he missed the stag, and being derided by his courtiers declared that he would catch and kill the quarry himself. Then no doubt he chased him, being pricked in his pride as a warrior, and fell into a sixty-cubit pit; and the merciful stag must have pulled him out without a thought of the king's offence against him. That is why the king is chanting this hymn, methinks." Thus the brahmin heard every word of the king's chant; and that which
fell out betwixt the king and the stag became clear as a face reflected in a well-polished mirror. He knocked at the door with his finger-tips. "Who is there?" the king asked. "It is I, my lord, your chaplain." "Come in, teacher," quoth the king, and opened the door. He entered, and prayed victory for the king, and stood on one side. Then he said, "O great king! I know what happened to you in the forest. As you chased a stag you fell into a pit, and the stag resting upon the stone sides of the pit 1, [271]. drew you out of it. So you remembering his magnanimity chanted a hymn." Then he recited two stanzas:
"The stag that on a mountain steep thy quarry
was of late,
He bravely gave thee life, for he was free from greed and hate.
"Out of the horrid pit, out of death's jaws,He bravely gave thee life, for he was free from greed and hate.
Leaning upon a rock 1 (a friend-at need)
The great stag saved thee: so thou saidst with cause,
His mind is far aloof from hate or greed."
"What!"thought the king, on hearing this—"the man did not go a-hunting with me, yet he knows the whole matter! How can he know it? I will ask him"; and he repeated the ninth stanza:
"O brahmin! wast thou there upon that day?
Or from some other witness didst thou hear?
The veil of passion thou hast rolled away:
Thou seest all: thy wisdom makes me fear."
But the brahmin said, "I am no Buddha all-knowing; only I
overheard the hymn that you sang, without missing the meaning, and so the fact
became clear before me." To explain which he repeated the tenth stanza:Or from some other witness didst thou hear?
The veil of passion thou hast rolled away:
Thou seest all: thy wisdom makes me fear."
"O lord of men! I neither heard that thing,
Nor was I there to see that day:
[272] But from the verses thou didst sweetly sing
Wise men can gather how the matter lay."
The king was delighted, and gave him a rich present.Nor was I there to see that day:
[272] But from the verses thou didst sweetly sing
Wise men can gather how the matter lay."
From thenceforward the king was devoted to almsgiving and good deeds, and his people being also devoted to good deeds as they died went to swell the hosts of heaven.
Now one day it happened that the king went into his park with the chaplain to shoot at a mark. At that period Sakka had been pondering whence came all the new sons and daughters of the gods, whom he beheld so numerous about him. Pondering, he perceived the whole story: how the king had been rescued from the pit by that stag, and how he had become stablished in virtue, and how by the power of this king, multitudes did good deeds and heaven was being filled; and now the king had gone into his park to shoot at a mark. Then he also went thither, that with the
voice of a lion he might proclaim the nobleness of the stag, and make known that himself was Sakka, and poised in the air might discourse on the Law, and declare the goodness of mercy and the Five Virtues, and then return. Now the king intending to shoot at his mark, strung a bow and fitted an arrow to the string. At that moment Sakka by his power made the stag to appear betwixt the king and the mark; the king seeing it did not let fly. Then Sakka, entering into the body of the chaplain, repeated by him to the king the following stanza:
"Thy shaft is death to many a mighty thing:
Why dost thou hold it quiet on the string?
Let the shaft fly and kill the stag forthwith:
’Tis meat for monarchs, O most sapient king!"
[273] Thereto the king answered in a stanza:Why dost thou hold it quiet on the string?
Let the shaft fly and kill the stag forthwith:
’Tis meat for monarchs, O most sapient king!"
"I know it, brahmin, no less sure than thou:
The stag is meat for warrior men, I vow,
But I am grateful for a service done,
And therefore hold my hand from killing now.
Then Sakka repeated a couple of stanzas:The stag is meat for warrior men, I vow,
But I am grateful for a service done,
And therefore hold my hand from killing now.
"’Tis no stag, O mighty monarch! but a Titan
is this thing,
Thou art king of men; but kill it—of the gods thou shalt be king.
"But if thou hesitate, O valiant king!Thou art king of men; but kill it—of the gods thou shalt be king.
To kill the stag, because he is thy friend:
To death's cold river 1 and to death's dread king 2
Thou and thy wife and children shall descend."
At this the king repeated two stanzas:
"So be it: to death's river and death's king
Send me, my wives and children, all my train
Of friends and comrades; I'll not do this thing,
And by my hand this stag shall not be slain.
[274] "Once in a grisly forest full of dreadSend me, my wives and children, all my train
Of friends and comrades; I'll not do this thing,
And by my hand this stag shall not be slain.
That very stag saved me from hopeless woe.
How can I wish my benefactor dead
After such service done me long ago?"
Then Sakka came forth from the chaplain's body, and put on his own shape, and poised in the air recited a couple of stanzas which showed forth the noble worth of the king:
"Live long on earth, O true and faithful
friend!
Comfort with truth and goodness this domain;
Then hosts of maidens round thee shall attend
While thou as Indra 3 mid the gods shalt reign.
"From passion free, with ever-peaceful heart,Comfort with truth and goodness this domain;
Then hosts of maidens round thee shall attend
While thou as Indra 3 mid the gods shalt reign.
When strangers crave, supply their weary need;
As power is given thee, give, and play thy part 4,
Blameless, till heaven shall be thy final meed."
[275] Thus saying, Sakka king of the gods continued as follows: "I came hither to try you, O king, and you have given me no hold. Only be vigilant." And with this advice he returned to his own place.
Footnotes
166:1 Cf. Jayaddīsa Jātaka, no. 513, vol. v.166:2 The story is told in Culla-vagga, v. 8 (Vinaya Texts, III. p. 78, in the Sacred Books of the East). The seṭṭhi had placed a sandal-wood bowl on a high pole, and challenged any holy person to get it down. Piṇḍola rose in the air by magic power and took it. For this he was blamed by the Master, as having used his great gift for an unworthy end.
167:1 Reading vāritam.
167:2 The Eastern day is reckoned from sunset to sunset.
168:1 Mount Meru or Sineru, the Indian Olympus, is surrounded by seven concentric circles of hills, the innermost of which is Yugandhara.
168:2 The tree named is the Erythmia Indica; a great one grew in Indra's heaven.
168:3 Abhidhamma.
169:1 Saṃkhatadhamma seems to mean an arahā or asekha.
169:2 The five Khandhas.
169:3 Doubtless a proverb: one may miss the most obvious things.
171:1 The same stanza has occurred already in vol. i. p. 267 (i. 133 of this translation). The first line is found also in i. 450 (trans. i. 274).
171:2 The same stanza in i. 268 (trans. i. 133).
172:1 This may mean "first trying his strength with a stone," as vol. v. pp. 68 and 70. So p. 170 above.
173:1 Vetaraṇī.
173:2 Yama.
173:3 Vāsavo.
173:4 bhutvā, "having eaten," applied to time, means to "pass": bhutvā dvādasa vassāni, Mah. 253.
Om Tat Sat
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