THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS (Book -4) -9

THE JĀTAKA

OR

STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS

BOOK XV. VĪSATI-NIPĀTA.

No. 497.

MĀTAṄGA-JĀTAKA.

[375] "Whence comest thou," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, about the hereditary king Udena. At that time, the reverend Piṇḍola-bhāradvāja passing from Jetavana through the air, used generally to pass the heat of the day in king Udena's park at Kosambī. The Elder, we are told, had in a former existence been king, and for a long time had enjoyed glory in that very park with his retinue. By virtue of the good then by him performed, he used to sit there in the heat of the day, enjoying the bliss of Attainment which was its fruit.
One day he was in that place, and sitting under a sal-tree in full flower, when Udena came into the park with a large number of followers. For seven days he had been drinking deep, and he wished to take his pleasure in the park. He lay down on the royal seat in the arms of one of his women, and being foxed soon fell asleep. Then the women who sat singing around threw down their instruments of music, and wandered about the pleasance gathering flowers and fruit. By and by they saw the Elder, and came up, and saluting him sat down. The Elder sat where he was and discoursed to them. The other woman by shifting her arms awoke the king, who said, "Where are those drabs gone?" She replied, "They are sitting in a ring round an ascetic." The king grew angry, and went to the Elder, abusing and reviling: "Out on it, I'll have the fellow devoured by red ants!" So in rage he caused a basket full of red ants to be broken over the Elder's body. But the Elder rose up in the air, and admonished the king; then to Jetavana he went, and alighted at the gateway of the Perfumed Chamber. "Whence have you come?" asked the Tathāgata: and he told him the fact. "Bhāradvāja," quoth he, "this is not the first time Udena has done despite to a religious man, but he did the same before." Then at the Elder's request, he told a story of the past.

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[376] Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Great Being was born outside the city, as a Caṇḍāla's son, and they gave him the name of Mātaṅga, the Elephant 1. Afterwards he attained wisdom, and his fame was blown abroad as the Wise Mātaṅga. Now at that time one Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā 2, daughter of a Benares merchant, every month or

two used to come and disport her in the park with a crowd of companions. One day, the Great Being had gone to town on some business, and as he was entering the gate met Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā. He stept aside, and stood quite still, From behind her curtain Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā spied him, and asked, "Who is that?" "A Caṇḍāla, my lady." "Bah," says she, "I have seen something that brings bad luck," and washing her eyes with scented water she turned back. The people with her cried out, "Ah, vile outcast, you have lost us free food and liquor to-day!" In rage they pummelled Mātaṅga the wise with hands and feet, and made him senseless, and went away. After a while he recovered consciousness, and thought, "The crowd around Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā beat me for no reason, an innocent man. I will not budge till I get her, not a moment before." With this resolve, he went and lay down at the door of her father's house. When they asked him why he lay there, his reply was, "All I want is Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā." One day passed, then a second, a third, fourth, fifth, and sixth. The resolve of the Buddhas is immovable; therefore on the seventh day they brought out the girl and gave her to him. Then she said, "Rise up, master, and let us go to your house." But he said, "Lady, I have been well pummelled by your people, I am weak, take me up on your back and carry me." So she did, and in full view of the citizens went forth from the city to the Caṇḍāla settlement.
There for a few days the Great Being kept her, without transgressing in any way the rules of caste. Then he thought, "Only by renouncing the world, and in no other way, shall I be able to show this lady the highest honour and give her the best gifts." [377] So he said to her, "Lady, if I fetch nothing out of the forest, we cannot live. I will go into the forest; wait till I return, but do not worry." He laid injunctions upon the household not to neglect her, and went into the forest, and embraced the life of a religious ascetic, with all diligence; so that in seven days he developed the Eight Attainments and the Five Supernatural Faculties. Then he thought, "Now I shall be able to protect Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā." By his supernatural power he went back, and alighted at the gate of the Caṇḍāla village, whence he proceeded to the door of Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā's house. She, when she heard of his return, came out, and began to weep, saying, "Why have you deserted me, master, and become an ascetic?" He said, "Never mind, lady, now I will make you more glorious than your former glory. Will you be able to say in the midst of the people just this: "My husband is not Mātaṅga, but the Great Brahma?" "Yes, master, I can say it." "Very well, when they ask you where is your husband, you must reply, He is gone to Brahma's heaven. If they ask, when he will come back, you must say, In seven days he will come, breaking the moon's disk when she is at the full." With these words, he went away to Himalaya.

Now Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā said what she had been told here and there in Benares, amidst a great crowd. The people believed, saying, "Ah, he is Great Brahma, and therefore does not visit Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā, but thus and thus it will be." On the night of full moon, at the time when the moon stands still in mid-course, the Bodhisatta assumed the appearance of Brahma, and amidst a blaze of light which filled all the kingdom of Kāsi, and the city of Benares twelve leagues in extent, broke through the moon and came down: thrice he made circuit above the city of Benares, and received the worship of the great crowd with perfumed garlands and such like, and then turned his face towards the Caṇḍāla village. The devotees of Brahma gathered together, and went to the Caṇḍāla village. They covered Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā's house with white cloths, swept the ground with four manner of sweet smelling things, scattered flowers, [378] burnt incense, spread an awning, prepared a splendid seat, lit a lamp of scented oil, laid at the door sand white and smooth as a silver plate, scattered flowers, put up banners. Before the house thus decorated the Great Being came down, and entered, and sat a little while on the seat. At that time Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā was in her monthly terms. His 1 thumb touched her navel, and she conceived. Then the Great Being said to her, "Lady, you are with child, and you shall bring forth a son; you and your son shall receive the highest honour and tribute; the water that washes your feet shall be used by kings for the ceremonial sprinkling throughout all India, the water you bathe in shall be an elixir of immortality, those who sprinkle it on their heads shall be set free from all disease and shall not know ill luck, they who lay the head on your feet and salute you shall give a thousand pieces of money, they who stand within your hearing and salute you shall give a hundred, they who stand in your sight and salute you shall give one rupee each. Be vigilant!" With this admonition, in view of the crowd, he rose up and re-entered the moon.
The devotees of Brahma collected, and stood there through the whole night; in the morning they caused her to enter a golden palanquin, and taking it upon their heads, bore her into the city. A great concourse came to her, crying aloud, "The wife of Great Brahma!" and did worship with scented garlands and other such things; those who were allowed to lay the head on her feet and salute her gave a purse of a thousand pieces, those who might salute her within hearing gave a hundred, those who might salute her standing within her sight gave one rupee each. Thus they included in their progress the whole city of Benares, twelve leagues in extent, and received a sum of eighteen crores.
Having thus made the circuit of that city, they brought her to the centre of it, and there built a great pavilion, and set curtains about it,

and caused her to dwell there amidst much glory and prosperity. Before the pavilion, they began to build seven great entrance gates, and a palace with seven storeys: much new merit was set to their account.
In that same pavilion, Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā brought forth a son. On his name-day, [379] the brahmins gathered together, and named him Maṇḍavya-kumāra, the Prince of the Pavilion, because he was born there. In ten months the palace was finished: from that time she 1 dwelt in it, highly honoured. And Prince Maṇḍavya grew up amid great magnificence. When he was seven or eight years old, the best teachers in the length and breadth of India gathered together, and they taught him the three Vedas. From the age of sixteen he provided food for the brahmins, and sixteen thousand brahmins were fed continually; at the fourth embattled gateway the alms were distributed to the brahmins.
Now on one great day of festival they prepared a quantity of rice porridge, and sixteen thousand brahmins sat by the fourth embattled gateway and partook of this food, accompanied with fresh ghee of a golden yellow, a decoction of honey and lump sugar; and the prince himself, brilliantly adorned with jewels, with golden slippers upon his feet, and a staff of fine gold in his hand, was walking about and giving directions, "Ghee here, honey here." At that time, the wise Mātaṅga seated in his hermitage in the Himalayas, turned his thoughts to see what news there was of Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā's son. Perceiving that he was going in the wrong way, he thought, "To-day I will go, and convert the young man, and I will teach him how to give so that the gift shall bring much fruit." He went through the air to Lake Anotatta, and there washed his mouth, and so forth; standing in the district of Manosilā 2, he donned the pair of coloured garments, girt his girdle about him, put on the ragged robe, took his earthen bowl, and went through the air to the fourth gateway, where he alighted just by the alms-hall, and stood on one side. Maṇḍavya, looking this way and that, espied him. "Where do you come from," cried he, "you ascetic, you misbegotten outcast, a goblin and no man?" and he repeated the first stanza:
[380]

"Whence comest thou, in filthy garments drest,
    A creature vile and goblin-like, I vow,
A robe of refuse-rags across thy breast,
    Unworthy of a gift—say, who art thou?"

The Great Being listened, then with gentle heart addressed him in the words of the second stanza:

"The food, O noble sir! is ready set,
    The people taste, and eat, and drink of it:
You know we live on what we chance to get;
    Rise! let the low-caste churl enjoy a bit."

Then Maṇḍavya recited the third stanza:

"For brahmins, for my blessing, by my hand
    This food is got, the gift of faithful heart.
Away! what boots it in my sight to stand?
    ’Tis not for such as thou: vile wretch, depart!"

[381] Thereupon the Great Being repeated a stanza:

"They sow the seed on high ground and on low,
    Hoping for fruit, and on the marshy plain:
In such a faith as this thy gifts bestow;
    Worthy recipients so thou shalt obtain."

Then Maṇḍavya repeated a stanza:

"I know the lands wherein I mean to sow,
    The proper places in this world for seed,
Brahmins highborn, that holy scriptures know:
    These are good ground and fertile fields indeed

Then the Great Being repeated two stanzas:

"The pride of birth, o’erweening self-conceit,
    Drunkenness, hatred, ignorance, and greed,—
Those in whose hearts these vices find their seat,—
    They all are bad and barren fields for seed.

"The pride of birth o’erweening, self-conceit,
    Drunkenness, hatred, ignorance, and greed,—
[382] Those in whose hearts these vices find no seat,
    They all are good and fertile fields for seed."
These words the Great Being repeated again and again; but the other grew angry, and cried—"The fellow prates overmuch. Where are my porters gone, that they do not cast out the churl?" Then he repeated a stanza:

"Ho Bhaṇḍakucchi, Upajjhāya ho!
    And where is Upajotiya, I say?
Punish the fellow, kill the fellow, go—
    And by the throat hale the vile churl away!"

 1

The men hearing his call, came up at a run, and saluting him, asked, "What are we to do, my lord?" "Did you ever see this base outcast?" "No, Sire, we did not know he had come in at all: some juggler he is doubtless, or cunning rogue."—"Well, why do you stand there?"—"What are we to do, my lord?"—"Why, strike the fellow's mouth, break his jaw, tear his back with rods and cudgels, punish him, take the wretch by the throat, knock him down, away with him out of this place!" But the Great Being, ere they could come at him, rose up in the air, and there poised, repeated a stanza:
[383]

"Revile a sage! to swallow blazing fire as much avails,
Or bite hard iron, or dig down a mountain with your nails."

Having uttered these words, the Great Being rose high in the air, while the youth and the brahmins gazed at the sight.

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Explaining this, the Master recited a stanza:

"So spake the sage Mātaṅga, champion of truth and right,
Then in the air he rose aloft before the brahmins' sight."

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He turned his face to the eastwards, and coming down in a certain street, with intent that his footsteps might be visible, he begged alms near the eastern gate; then, having collected a quantity of mixt victuals, he sat him down in a certain hall and began to eat. But the deities of the city came up, finding it intolerable that this king should so speak as to annoy their sage. So the eldest goblin among them seized hold of Maṇḍavya by the neck, and twisted it, and the others seized the other brahmins and twisted their necks. But through pity for the Bodhisatta, they did not kill Maṇḍavya: "he is his son," they said, and only tormented him. Maṇḍavya's head was twisted so that it looked backwards over his shoulders; hands and feet were stiff and stark; his eyes were turned up, as though he were a dead man: there he lay stark. The other brahmins turned round and round, drabbling spittle at the mouth. People went and told Diṭṭha-maṅgalikā, "Something has happened to your son, my lady!" She made all haste thither, and seeing him cried, "Oh, what is this!" and recited a stanza:

"Over the shoulder twisted stands his head;
    See how he stretches out a helpless arm!
White are his eyes as though he were quite dead:
    O who is it has wrought my son this harm?"

[384] Then the bystanders repeated a stanza, telling her about it:

"A hermit came, in filthy garments drest,
    A creature vile and goblin-like to see,
With robe of refuse-rags across his breast:
    The man who treated thus thy son, is he."

On hearing this, she thought: "No other has the power, the wise Mātaṅga without doubt it must be! But one who is stedfast, and full of goodwill to all creatures, will never go away and leave all these folk to torment. Now in what direction can he have gone?" which question she put in the following stanza:

"In what direction went the wise one hence?
    O noble youths, pray answer me this thing!
Come let us make atonement for the offence,
    Our son to life again that we may bring."

The young men answered her in this manner:

"That wise one, up into the air rose he,
    Like moon in mid-career the fifteenth day:
The sage, truth-consecrated, fair to see,
    Towards the east moreover bent his way."

This answer given, she said, "I will seek my husband!" and bidding take with her pitchers of gold and cups of gold, surrounded with a company of waiting women, she went and found the place where his footsteps had touched the ground; these she followed, until she came to him sitting upon a seat, and eating his meal. [385] Approaching she saluted him, and stood still. On seeing her he placed some boiled rice in his bowl. Diṭṭha maṅgalikā poured water for him from a golden pitcher; he at once washed his hands and rinsed out his mouth. Then she said, "Who has done this cruel thing to my son?" repeating this stanza:

"Over the shoulder twisted stands his head;
    See how he stretches out a helpless arm!
White are his eyes, as though he were quite dead:
    O who is it has wrought my son this harm?"

The stanzas which follow are said by the two alternately:

"Goblins there are, whose might and power is great,
    Who follow sages, beautiful to see:
They saw thy son ill-minded, passionate,
    And they have treated thus thy son for thee."

"Then it is goblins who this thing have done:
    Do not be wroth, O holy man, with me!
O Brother! full of love towards my son
    Hither for refuge to thy feet I flee!"
"Then let me tell thee that my mind doth hide
    Nor then nor now a thought of enmity:
Thy son, through fancied knowledge, drunk with pride,
    Knows not the meaning of the Vedas three."
"O Brother! verily a man may find
All in a trice his sense quite gone blind.
Forgive me my one error, O wise sage!
They who are wise are never fierce in rage 1."
[386] The Great Being, thus pacified by her, replied, "Well, I will give you the elixir of immortal life, to make the goblins depart"; and he recited this stanza:

"This fragment of my leavings take with thee,
    Let the poor fool Maṇḍavya eat a piece:
Thy son shall be made whole, restored to thee,
    And so the goblins shall their prey release."

When she heard the words of the Great Being, she held out a golden bowl, saying, "Give me the elixir of immortality, my lord!" The Great Being dropt in it some of his rice gruel, and said, "First put the half of this into your son's mouth; the rest mix with water in a vessel, and put it in the mouths of the other brahmins: they shall all be made whole." Then he arose and departed to Himalaya. She carried off the pitcher upon her head, crying, "I have the elixir of immortality!" Arrived at the house, she first put some of it in her son's mouth. The Goblin fled away; the king got up, and brushed off the dust, asking, "What is this, mother?"—"You know well enough what you have done; now see the miserable plight of your dolesmen!" When he looked at them, he was filled with remorse. [387] Then his mother said, "Maṇḍavya, my dear son, you are a fool, and you do not know how to give so that the gift may bear fruit. Such as these are not fit for your bounty, but only such as are like the wise Mātaṅga. Henceforward give nothing to evil men like these, but give to the virtuous." Then she said:—

"Thou art a fool, Maṇḍavya, small of wit,
Not knowing when to do good deeds is fit:
Thou givest to those whose sinfulness is great,
To evildoers and intemperate.

"Garments of skin, a mass of shaggy hair,
    Mouth like an ancient well with grass o’ergrown,
And see what ragged clouts the creatures wear!
    But fools are saved not by such things alone.
"When passion, hate, and ignorance, afar from men are driven,
Give to such calm and holy men: much fruit for this is given."
"Therefore from this time forward give not to wicked men like this; but whoso in this world has reached the eight Attainments, righteous ascetics and brahmins who have gained the Five Transcendent Faculties, Pacceka Buddhas, to these give your gifts. Come my son, let me give these our servants the elixir of immortality, [388] and make them whole." So saying, she had the leavings of the rice gruel taken, and put in a pitcher of water, and sprinkled over the mouths of the sixteen thousand brahmins. Each one got up, and brushed off the dust.
Then these brahmins, having been made to taste the leavings of a Caṇḍāla, were put out of caste by the other brahmins. In shame they departed from Benares, and went to the kingdom of Mejjha, where they lived with the king of that country. But Maṇḍavya remained where he was.
At that time there was a brahmin named Jātimanta, one of the religious, who lived hard by the city of Vettavatī on the banks of the river of that name; and he was a man mightily proud of his birth. The Great Being went thither, resolved to humble the man's pride; and he

made his abode near him, but further up stream. One day, having nibbled at a tooth-stick 1, he let it fall into the river, resolving that it should get entangled in Jātimanta's knot of hair. Accordingly, as he was washing in the water, the stick became entangled in his hair. "Curse the brute!" said he, when he saw it, "where has this come from, with a pest! I will enquire." He proceeded up stream, and finding the Great Being, asked him, "What caste are you of?"—"I am a Caṇḍāla."—"Did you drop a tooth-stick into the river?"—"Yes, I did."—"You brute! curse you, vile outcast, a murrain on you, don't stay here, but go further down stream." But even when he went to live down stream, the tooth-sticks he dropt floated against the current, and stuck in Jātimanta's hair. "Curse you!" quoth he, "if you stay here, in seven days your head shall burst into seven pieces!" The Great Being thought, "If I allow myself to be angry with the man, I shall not be keeping my virtue; but I will find a way to break down his pride." On the seventh day, he prevented the sunrise. All the world was put out: they came to the ascetic Jātimanta, and asked, "Is it you, Sir, who prevent the sun from rising?" He said, "That is no doing of mine; but there is a Caṇḍāla living by the riverside, and his doing it must be." Then the people came to the Great Being, and asked him, "Is it you, Sir, who keep the sun from rising?" [389] "Yes, friends," said he. "Why?" they asked. "The ascetic who is your favourite reviles me, an innocent man; when he comes and falls at my feet to ask for mercy, then I will let the sun go." They went and dragged him along, and cast him down before the Great Being's feet, and tried to appease him, saying, "Sir, pray let the sun go." But he said, "I cannot let him go; if I do so, this man's head will burst into seven pieces." They said, "Then, Sir, what are we to do?" "Bring me a lump of clay." They brought it. "Now place it upon the head of this ascetic, and let the ascetic down into the water." After making these arrangements, he let the sun rise. No sooner was the sun set free 2, the lump of clay split in seven, and the ascetic plunged under the water. Having thus humbled him, the Great Being pondered: "Where now are those sixteen thousand brahmins?" He perceived they were with the king of Mejjha, and resolved to humble them; by his supernatural power he alighted in the neighbourhood of the city, and bowl in hand tramped the city seeking alms. When the brahmins descried him, they said, "Let him stay here but a couple of days, and he will leave us without a refuge!" In all haste they went to the king, crying, "O mighty king, here is a juggler and mountebank come: take him prisoner!" The king was ready enough. The Great Being, with his mess of mixt victuals, was sitting beside a wall, on a

bench, and eating. There, as he was busy partaking of the food, the king's messengers found him, and striking him with a sword, killed him. After his death, he was born in the Brahma world. It is said that in this birth the Bodhisatta was a  1mongoose-tamer, and in this servile occupation was put to death. The deities were angry, and poured down upon the whole kingdom of Mejjha a torrent of hot ashes, and wiped it out from among kingdoms. Therefore it is said:

"So the whole nation was destroyed of Mejjha, as they say,
For glorious Mātaṅga's death, the kingdom swept away."

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[390] When the Master had ended this discourse, he said: "It is not now the first time that Udena has abused religious men, but he did the same before." Then he identified the Birth: "At that time, Udena was Maṇḍavya, and I myself was the wise Mātaṅga."

Footnotes

235:1 Also a name of a man of the Caṇḍāla caste, which was the lowest.
235:2 Lit. "one who has seen good omens."
237:1 Reading assa.
238:1 Adding sā, with one MS.
238:2 Part of the Himalaya region.
239:1 The last two lines occur on p. 205 (above, p. 128).
241:1 These two lines occur above, p. 313 (p. 197 of this volume).
243:1 The Indians use a fibrous stick for cleansing the teeth.
243:2 Taking pahata- as used for pahīna-.

No. 498.

CITTA-SAMBHŪTA-JĀTAKA.

"Every good deed," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in Jetavana, about two fellow-priests of the reverend Mahā-kassapa, who lived happily together. This pair, we are told, were most friendly, and had share for share in all things with the utmost fairness: even when they walked for alms, together they went out and together came in, nor could they endure to be apart. In the Hall of Truth sat the Brethren, praising their friendship, when the Master came in, and asked what they talked of as they sat there. They told him; and he replied, "Their friendship in one existence, Brethren, is nothing to wonder at; for wise men of old kept friendliness unbroken throughout three or four different existences." So saying, he told them a story of the past.

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Once upon a time, in the realm of Avanti, and the city of Ujjenī, reigned a great king named King Avanti. At that time, a Caṇḍāla village lay outside Ujjenī, and there the Great Being was born. Another person was born the son of his mother's sister. The one of these two was named Citta, and the other Sambhūta.
These two when they grew up, having learnt what is called the art of sweeping in the Caṇḍāla breed, thought one day they would go and show off this art at the city gate. So one of them showed off at the north gate, and one at the east. Now in this city were two women wise in the omens

of sight, the one a merchant's daughter and the other a chaplain's. These went forth to make merry in the park, having ordered food to be brought hard and soft, garlands and perfumes; and it so happened that one went out by the northern gate and one the eastern. Seeing the two young Caṇḍālas showing their art, the girls asked "Who are these?" Caṇḍālas, they were informed. "This is an evil omen to see!" they said, [391] and after washing their eyes with perfumed water, they returned back. Then the multitude cried, "O vile outcasts, you have made us lose food and strong drink which would have cost us nothing!" They belaboured the two kinsmen, and did them much misery and mischief. When they recovered their senses, up they got and joined company, and told each the other what woe had befallen him, weeping and wailing, and wondering what to do now. "All this misery has come upon us," they thought, because of our birth. We shall never be able to play the part of Caṇḍālas; let us conceal our birth, and go to Takkasilā in the disguise of young brahmins, and study there." Having made this decision, they went thither, and followed their studies in the law under a far-famed master. A rumour was blown abroad over India, that two young Caṇḍālas were students, and had concealed their birth. The wise Citta was successful in his studies, but Sambhūta not so.
One day a villager invited the teacher, intending to offer food to the brahmins. Now it happened that rain fell in the night, and flooded all the hollows in the road. Early in the morning the teacher summoned wise Citta, and said, "My lad, I cannot go, do you go with the young men, and pronounce a blessing, eat what you get for yourself and bring home what there is for me." Accordingly he took the young brahmins, and went. While the young men bathed, and rinsed their mouths, the people prepared rice porridge, which they set ready for them, saying, "Let it cool." Before it was cool, the young men came and sat down. The people gave them the water of offering, and set the bowls in front of them. Sambhūta's wits were somewhat muddled, and imagining it to be cool, took up a ball of the rice and put it in his mouth, but it burnt him like a red-hot ball of metal. In his pain he forgot his part altogether, and glancing at wise Citta, he said, in the Caṇḍāla dialect; "Hot, aint it?" [392] The other forgot himself too, and answered in their manner of speech, "Spit it out, spit it out." At this the young men looked at each other, and said, "What kind of language is this?" Wise Citta pronounced a blessing.
When the young men came home, they gathered in little knots and sat here and there discussing the words used. Finding that it was the dialect of the Caṇḍālas, they cried out on them, "O vile outcasts! you have been tricking us all this while, and pretending to be brahmins!" And they beat them both. One good man drove them out, saying, "Away! the blot's in

the blood. Be off! Go somewhere and become ascetics." The young brahmins told their teacher that these two were Caṇḍālas.
The pair went out into the woods, and there took up the ascetic life, and after no long time died, and were born again as the young of a doe on the banks of the Nerañjarā. From the time of their birth they always went about together. One day, when they had fed, a hunter espied them under a tree ruminating and cuddling together, very happy, head to head, nozzle to nozzle, horn to horn. He cast a javelin at them, and killed them both by one blow.
After this they were born as the young of an osprey, on the bank of Nerbudda. There too, when they grew up, after feeding they would cuddle together, head to head and beak to beak. A bird snarer saw them, caught them together, and killed them both.
Next the wise Citta was born at Kosambī, as a chaplain's son; the wise Sambhūta was born as the son of the king of Uttarapañcāla. From their name-days they could remember their former births. But Sambhūta was not able to remember all without breaks, and all he could remember was the fourth or Caṇḍāla birth; Citta however remembered all four in due order. When Citta was sixteen years old, he went away and became an ascetic in Himalaya, [393] and developed the Faculty of the religious ecstasy, and dwelt in the bliss of ecstatic trance. Wise Sambhūta after his father's death had the Umbrella spread over him, and on the very day of the umbrella ceremony, in the midst of a great concourse, made a ceremonial hymn, and uttered two stanzas in aspiration. When they heard this, the royal wives and the musicians all chanted then, saying, "Our king's own coronation hymn!" and in course of time all the citizens sang it, as the hymn which their king loved. Wise Citta, in his dwelling place in Himalaya, wondered whether his brother Sambhūta had assumed the Umbrella, or not. Perceiving that he had, he thought, "I shall never be able to instruct a young ruler; but when he is old, I will visit him, and persuade him to be an ascetic." For fifty years he went not, and by that time the king was increased with sons and daughters; then by his supernatural power, he went, and alighted in the park, and sat down on the seat of ceremony like an image of gold. Just then a lad was picking up sticks, and as he did so he sang that hymn. Wise Citta called him to approach; he came up with an obeisance, and waited. Citta said to him, "Since early morning you have been singing that hymn; do you know no other?"—"Oh yes, sir, I know many more, but these are the verses the king loves, that is why I sing no others."—"Is there any one who can sing a refrain to the king's hymn?"—"No, Sir."—"Could you?"—"Yes, if I am taught one."—"Well, when the king chants these two verses, you sing this by way of a third," and he recited a hymn. "Now," said he, "go and sing this before the king, and the king will be pleased with

you, and make much of you for it." The lad went to his mother quickly, and got himself drest up spick and span; then to the king's door, and sent in word that a lad would sing him a refrain to his hymn. The king said, "Let him approach." When the lad had come in, and saluted him, quoth the king, "They say you will sing me an answering refrain to my hymn?" [394] "Yes, my lord," said he, "bring in the whole court to hear." As soon as the court had assembled, the lad said, "Sing your hymn, my lord, and I will answer with mine." The king repeated a pair of stanzas:

"Every good deed bears fruit or soon or late,
    No deed without result, and nothing vain:
I see Sambhūta mighty grown and great,
    Thus do his virtues bear him fruit again.

"Every good deed bears fruit or soon or late,
    No deed without result, and nothing vain.
Who knows if Citta also may be great,
    And like myself, his heart have brought him gain?"
At the end of this hymn, the lad chanted the third stanza:

"Every good deed bears fruit or soon or late,
    No deed without result, and nothing vain.
Behold, my lord, see Citta at thy gate,
    And like thyself, his heart has brought him gain."

On hearing this the king repeated the fourth stanza:

"Then art thou Citta, or the tale didst hear
    From him, or did some other make thee know?
Thy hymn is very sweet: I have no fear;
    A village and a bounty 1 I bestow."

[395] Then the lad repeated the fifth stanza:

"I am not Citta, but I heard the thing.
    It was a sage laid on me this command—
Go and recite an answer to the king,
    And be rewarded by his grateful hand."

Hearing this, the king thought, "It must be my brother Citta; now I'll go and see him"; then he laid his bidding upon his men in the words of these two stanzas:

"Come, yoke the royal chariots, so finely wrought and made:
Gird up with girths the elephants, in necklets bright arrayed.

"Beat drums for joy, and let the conchs be blown,
Prepare the swiftest chariots I own:
For to that hermitage I will away,
To see the sage that sits within, this day."
So he spoke; then mounting his fine chariot, he went swiftly to the park gate. There he checked his chariot, and approached wise Citta with

an obeisance, and sat down on one side; greatly pleased, he recited the eighth stanza:

"A precious hymn it was I sang so sweet
    While thronging multitudes around me pressed;
For now this holy sage I come to greet
    And all is joy and gladness in my breast."

[396] Happy from the instant he saw wise Citta, he gave all necessary directions, bidding prepare a seat for his brother, and repeated the ninth
stanza:

"Accept a seat, and for your feet fresh water: it is right
To offer gifts of food to guests: accept, as we invite."

After this sweet invitation, the king repeated another stanza, offering him the half of his kingdom:

"Let them make glad the place where thou shalt dwell,
    Let throngs of waiting women wait on thee;
O let me show thee that I love thee well,
    And let us both kings here together be."

When he had heard these words, wise Citta discoursed to him in six stanzas:

"Seeing the fruit of evil deeds, O king,
Seeing what profit deeds of goodness bring,
I fain would exercise stern self-control,
Sons, wealth, and cattle cannot charm my soul.

"Ten decades has this mortal life, which each to each succeed:
This limit reached, man withers fast like to a broken reed.
"Then what is pleasure, what is love, wealth-hunting what to me?
What sons and daughters? know, O king, from fetters I am free.
"For this is true, I know it well—death will not pass me by:
And what is love, or what is wealth, when you must come to die?
[397] "The lowest race that go upon two feet
    Are the Caṇḍālas, meanest men on earth,
When all our deeds were ripe, as guerdon meet
    We both as young Caṇḍālas had our birth.
"Caṇḍālas in Avanti land, deer by Nerañjara,
Ospreys by the Nerbudda, now brahmin and Khattiya."
[398] Having thus made clear his mean births in time past, here also in this birth he declared the impermanency of things created, and recited four stanzas to arouse an effort:

"Life is but short, and death the end must be:
The aged have no hiding where to flee.
Then, O Pañcāla, what I bid thee, do:
All deeds which grow to misery, eschew.

"Life is but short, and death the end must be:
The aged have no hiding where to flee.
Then, O Pañcāla, what I bid thee, do:
All deeds whose fruit is misery, eschew.

"Life is but short, and death the end must be:
The aged have no hiding where to flee.
Then, O Pañcāla, what I bid thee, do:
All deeds that are with passion stained, eschew.

"Life is but short, and death the end must be:
Old age will sap our strength, we cannot flee.
Then, O Pañcāla, what I bid thee, do:
All deeds that lead to lowest hell, eschew."
[399] The king rejoiced as the Great Being spoke and repeated three stanzas:

"True is that word, O Brother! which you say,
    You like a holy saint your words dictate:
But my desires are hard to cast away,
    By such as I am; they are very great.

"As elephants deep sunken in the mire
    Cannot climb out, although they see the land:
So, sunken in the slough of strong desire
    Upon the Brethren's Path I cannot stand.
"As father or as mother would their son
    Admonish, good and happy how to grow:
Admonish me how happiness is won,
    And tell me by which way I ought to go."
Then the Great Being said to him:

"O lord of men! thou canst not cast away
    These passions which are common to mankind:
Let not thy people unjust taxes pay,
    Equal and righteous ruling let them find.

"Send messengers to north, south, east, and west
    The brahmins and ascetics to invite:
Provide them food and drink, a place to rest,
    Clothes, and all else that may be requisite.
[400] "Give thou the food and drink which satisfies
    Sages and holy brahmins, full of faith:
Who gives and rules as well as in him lies
    Will go to heaven all blameless after death.
"But if, surrounded by thy womankind
    Thou feel thy passion and desire too strong,
This verse of poetry then bear in mind
    And sing it in the midst of all the throng:
"No roof to shelter from the sky, amid the dogs he lay,
His mother nursed him as she walked: but he's a king to-day."
Such was the Great Being's advice. Then he said, "I have given you my counsel. And now do you become an ascetic or not, as you think fit; but I will follow up the result of my own deeds." Then he rose up in the air, and shook off the dust of his feet over him, and departed to Himalaya. [401] And the king saw it, and was greatly moved; and relinquishing his kingdom to his eldest son, he called out his army, and set his face in the direction of Himalaya. When the Great Being heard of his coming, he

went with his attendant sages and received him, and ordained him to the holy life, and taught him the means of inducing mystic ecstasy. He developed the Faculty of mystical meditation. Thus these two together became destined for Brahma's world.

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When the Master had ended his discourse, he said: "Thus, Brethren, wise men of old continued firm friends through the course of three or four existences." Then he identified the Birth: "At that time Ānanda was the wise Sambhūta, and I myself was the wise Citta."

Footnotes

244:1 Taking koṇḍa- to be the same as kuṇḍa-.
247:1 Lit. a hundred (pieces of money): or (with the scholiast) "A hundred villages I do bestow."

No. 499.

SIVI-JĀTAKA. 1

"If there be any human," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana, about the gift incomparable. The circumstances have been fully told in Book VIII. under the Sovīra Birth 2. But here the king, on the seventh day, gave all the requisites and asked for thanks; but the Master went away without thanking him. After breakfast the king went to the monastery, and said, "Why did you return no thanks, Sir?" The Master said, "The people were unpurified, your majesty." He went on to declare the Law, reciting the stanza that begins "To heaven the avaricious shall not go 3." The king, pleased at heart, did reverence to the Tathāgata by presenting an outer robe of the Sivi country, worth a thousand pieces of money; then he returned to the city.
Next day they were talking of it in the Hall of Truth: "Sirs, the king of Kosala gave the gift incomparable: and, not content with that, when the Dasabala had discoursed to him, the king gave him a Sivi garment worth a thousand pieces! How insatiate the king is in giving, sure enough!" The Master came in, and asked what they talked of as they sat there: they told him. He said, "Brothers, things external are acceptable, true: but wise men of old, who gave gifts till all India rang again with the fame of it, each day distributing as much as six hundred thousand pieces, were unsatisfied with external gifts; and, remembering the proverb, Give what you prize and love will arise, they even pulled out their eyes and gave to those that asked." With these words, he told a story of the past.

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Once upon a time, when the mighty King Sivi reigned in the city of Ariṭṭhapura in the kingdom of Sivi, the Great Being was born as his son. They called his name Prince Sivi. When he grew up, he went

to Takkasilā and studied there; [402] then returning, he proved his knowledge to his father the king, and by him was made viceroy. At his father's death he became king himself, and, forsaking the ways of evil, he kept the Ten Royal Virtues and ruled in righteousness. He caused six alms-halls to be builded, at the four gates, in the midst of the city, and at his own door. He was munificent in distributing each day six hundred thousand pieces of money. On the eighth, fourteenth, and fifteenth days he never missed visiting the alms-halls to see the distribution made.
Once on the day of the full moon, the state umbrella had been uplifted early in the morning, and he sat on the royal throne thinking over the gifts he had given. Thought he to himself, "Of all outside things there is nothing I have not given; but this kind of giving does not content me. I want to give something which is a part of myself. Well, this day when I go to the alms-hall, I vow that if any one ask not something outside me, but name what is part of myself,—if he should mention my very heart, I will cut open my breast with a spear, and as though I were drawing up a water-lily, stalk and all, from a calm lake, I will pull forth my heart dripping with blood-clots and give it him: if he should name the flesh of my body, I will cut the flesh off my body and give it, as though I were graving with a graving tool: let him name my blood, I will give him my blood, dropping it in his mouth or filling a bowl with it: or again, if one say, I can't get my household work done, come and do me a slave's part at home, then I will leave my royal dress and stand without, proclaiming myself a slave, and slave's work I will do: should any men demand my eyes, I will tear out my eyes and give them, as one might take out the pith of a palm-tree." Thus he thought within him:

"If there be any human gift that I have never made,
Be it my eyes, I'll give it now, all firm and unafraid."

Then he bathed himself with sixteen pitchers of perfumed water, and adorned him in all his magnificence, and after a meal of choice food he mounted upon an elephant richly caparisoned [403] and went to the alms-hall.
Sakka, perceiving his resolution, thought, "King Sivi has determined to give his eyes to any chance comer who may ask. Will you be able to do it, or no?" He determined to try him; and, in the form of a brahmin old and blind, he posted himself on a high place, and when the king came to his alms-hall he stretched out his hand and stood crying, "Long live the king!" Then the king drove his elephant towards him, and said, "What do you say, brahmin?" Sakka said to him, "O great king! in all the inhabited world there is no spot where the fame of

your munificent heart has not sounded. I am blind, and you have two eyes." Then he repeated the first stanza, asking for an eye:

"To ask an eye the old man comes from far, for I have none:
O give me one of yours, I pray, then we shall each have one."

When the Great Being heard this, thought he, "Why that is just what I was thinking in my palace before I came! What a fine chance! My heart's desire will be fulfilled to-day; I shall give a gift which no man ever gave yet." And he recited the second stanza:

"Who taught thee hitherward to wend thy way,
O mendicant, and for an eye to pray?
    The chiefest portion of a man is this,
And hard for men to part with, so they say."

(The succeeding stanzas are to be read two and two, as may easily be seen.)

"Sujampati among the gods, the same
Here among men called Maghavā by name,
[404]    He taught me hitherward to wend my way,
Begging, and for an eye to urge my claim.

"'Tis the all-chiefest gift for which I pray 1.
Give me an eye! O do not say me nay!
    Give me an eye, that chiefest gift of gifts,
So hard for men to part with, as they say!"
"The wish that brought thee hitherward, the wish that did arise
Within thee, be that wish fulfilled. Here, brahmin, take my eyes.
"One eye thou didst request of me: behold, I give thee two!
    Go with good sight, in all the people's view;
    So be thy wish fulfilled and now come true."
So much the king said. But, thinking it not meet that he should root out his eyes and bestow them there and then, he brought the brahmin indoors with him, and sitting on the royal throne, sent for a surgeon named Sīvaka. "Take out my eye, "he then said.
Now all the city rang with the news, that the king wished to tear out his eyes and give them to a brahmin. Then the commander-in-chief, and all the other officials, and those beloved of the king, gathered together from city and harem, and recited three stanzas, that they might turn the king from his purpose:

"O do not give thine eye, my lord; desert us not, O king!
Give money, pearls and coral give, and many a precious thing:

"Give thorobreds caparisoned, forth be the chariots rolled,
O king, drive up the elephants all fine with cloth of gold:
[405] "These give, O king! that we may all preserve thee safe and sound,
Thy faithful people, with our cars and chariots ranged around."

Hereupon the king recited three stanzas:

"The soul which, having sworn to give, is then unfaithful found,
Puts his own neck within a snare low hidden on the ground.

"The soul which, having sworn to give, is then unfaithful found,
More sinful is than sin, and he to Yama's house 1 is bound.
"Unasked give nothing; neither give the thing he asketh not,
This therefore which the brahmin asks, I give it on the spot."
Then the courtiers asked, "What do you desire in giving your eyes?" repeating a stanza:

"Life, beauty, joy, or strength—what is the prize,
O king, which motive for your deed supplies?
    Why should the king of Sivi-land supreme
For the next world's sake thus give up his eyes?"

[406] The king answered them in a stanza:

"In giving thus, not glory is my goal,
Not sons, not wealth, or kingdoms to control:
    This is the good old way of holy men;
Of giving gifts enamoured is my soul."

 2

To the Great Being's words the courtiers answered nothing; so the Great Being addressed Sīvaka the surgeon in a stanza:

"A friend and comrade, Sīvaka, art thou:
Do as I bid thee—thou hast skill enow—
    Take 3 out my eyes, for this is my desire,
And in the beggar's hands bestow them now."

But Sīvaka said, "Bethink you, my lord! to give one's eyes is no light thing."—"Sīvaka, I have considered; [407] don't delay, nor talk too much in my presence." Then he thought, "It is not fitting that a skilful surgeon like me should pierce a king's eyes with the lancet," so he pounded a number of simples, rubbed a blue lotus with the powder, and brushed it over the right eye: round rolled the eye, and there was great pain. "Reflect, my king, I can make it all right."—"Go on, friend, no delay, please." Again he rubbed in the powder, and brushed it over the eye: the eye started from the socket, the pain was worse than before. "Reflect, my king, I can still restore it."—"Be quick with the job!" A third time he smeared a sharper powder, and applied it: by the drug's power round went the eye, out it came from the socket, and hung dangling at the end of the tendon. "Reflect, my king, I can yet restore it again."—"Be quick." The pain was extreme, blood was trickling, the king's

garments were stained with the blood. The king's women and the courtiers fell at his feet, crying, "My lord, do not sacrifice your eyes!" loudly they wept and wailed. The king endured the pain, and said, "My friend, be quick." "Very well, my lord," said the physician; and with his left hand grasping the eyeball took a knife in his right, and severing the tendon, laid the eye in the Great Being's hand 1. He, gazing with his left eye at the right and enduring the pain, said, "Brahmin, come here." When the brahmin came near, he went on—"The eye of omniscience is dearer than this eye a hundred fold, aye a thousand fold: there you have my reason for this action," and he gave it to the brahmin, who raised it and placed it in his own eye socket. There it remained fixt by his power like a blue lotus in bloom. When the Great Being with his left eye saw that eye in his head, he cried—"Ah, how good is this my gift of an eye!" [408] and thrilled straightway with the joy that had arisen within him, he gave the other eye also. Sakka placed this also in the place of his own eye, and departed from the king's palace, and then from the city, with the gaze of the multitude upon him, and went away to the world of gods.

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The Master, explaining this, repeated a stanza and a half:

"So Sivi spurred on Sīvaka, and he fulfilled his mind.
He drew the king's eyes out, and to the brahmin these consigned:
And now the brahmin had the eyes, and now the king was blind."

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In a short while the king's eyes began to grow; as they grew, and before they reached the top of the holes, a lump of flesh rose up inside like a ball of wool, filling the cavity; they were like a doll's eyes, but the pain ceased. The Great Being remained in the palace a few days. Then he thought, "What has a blind man to do with ruling? I will hand over my kingdom to the courtiers, and go into my park, and become an ascetic, and live as a holy man." He summoned his courtiers, and told them what he intended to do. "One man," said he, "shall be with me, to wash my face, and so forth, and to do all that is proper, and you must fasten a cord to guide me to the retiring places." Then calling for his charioteer, he bade him prepare the chariot. But the courtiers would not allow him to go in the chariot; they brought him out in a golden litter, and set him down by the lake side, and then, guarding him all around, returned. The king sat in the litter thinking of his gift.
At that moment Sakka's throne became hot; and he pondering perceived the reason. "I will offer the king a boon," thought he, "and make his eye well again." So to that place he came; and not far off from the Great Being, he walked up and down, up and down.

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To explain this the Master recited these stanzas:

"A few days past; the eyes began to heal, and sound to appear:
The fostering king of Sivi then sent for his charioteer.

[409] "Prepare the chariot, charioteer; to me then make it known:
I go to park and wood and lake with lilies overgrown."
"He sat him in a litter by the waterside, and here
Sujampati, the king of gods, great Sakka, did appear."
"Who is that?"cried the Great Being, when he heard the sound of the footsteps. Sakka repeated a stanza:

"Sakka, the king of gods, am I; to visit thee I came:
Choose thou a boon, O royal sage! whate’er thy wish may name."

The king replied with another stanza:

"Wealth, strength, and treasure without end, these I have left behind:
O Sakka, death and nothing more I want: for I am blind."

Then Sakka said, "Do you ask death, King Sivi, because you wish to die, or because you are blind?"—"Because I am blind, my lord."—"The gift is not everything in itself, your majesty, it is given with an eye to the future. Yet there is a motive relating to this visible world. Now you were asked for one eye, and gave two; make an Act of Truth about it." Then he began a stanza:

"O warrior, lord of biped kind, declare the thing that's true:
If you the truth declare, your eye shall be restored to you."

On hearing this, the Great Being replied, "If you wish to give me an eye, Sakka, do not try any other means, but let my eye be restored as a consequence of my gift." Sakka said, "Though they call me Sakka, king of the gods, your majesty, yet I cannot give an eye to any one else; but by the fruit of the gift by thee given, and by nothing else, your eye shall be restored to you." Then the other repeated a stanza, maintaining that his gift was well given:
[410]

"Whatever sort, whatever kind of suitor shall draw near,
Whoever comes to ask of me, he to my heart is dear:
If these my solemn words be true, now let my eye appear!"

Even as he uttered the words, one of his eyes grew up in the socket. Then he repeated a couple of stanzas to restore the other:

"A brahmin came to visit me, one of my eyes to crave:
Unto that brahmin mendicant the pair of them I gave.

"A greater joy and more delight that action did afford.
If these my solemn words be true, be the other eye restored!"
On the instant appeared his second eye. But these eyes of his were neither natural nor divine. An eye given by Sakka as the brahmin, cannot be natural, we know; on the other hand, a divine eye cannot be produced in anything that is injured. [411] But these eyes are called the

eyes of Truth Absolute and Perfect. At the time when they came into existence, the whole royal retinue by Sakka's power was assembled; and Sakka standing in the midst of the throng, uttered praise in a couple of stanzas:

"O fostering King of Sivi land, these holy hymns of thine
Have gained for thee as bounty free this pair of eyes divine.

"Through rock and wall, o’er hill and dale, whatever bar may be,
A hundred leagues on every side those eyes of thine shall see."
Having uttered these stanzas, poised in the air before the multitude, with a last counsel to the Great Being that he should be vigilant, Sakka returned to the world of gods. And the Great Being, surrounded by his retinue, went back in great pomp to the city, and entered the palace called Candaka, the Peacock's Eye. The news that he had got his eyes again spread abroad all through the Kingdom of Sivi. All the people gathered together to see him, with gifts in their hands. "Now all this multitude is come together," thought the Great Being, "I shall praise my gift that I gave." He caused a great pavilion to be put up at the palace gate, where he seated himself upon the royal throne, with the white umbrella spread above him. Then the drum was sent beating about the city, to collect all the trade guilds 1. Then he said, "O people of Sivi! now you have beheld these divine eyes, never eat food without giving something away!" and he repeated four stanzas, declaring the Law:

"Who, if he's asked to give, would answer no,
    Although it be his best and choicest prize?
People of Sivi thronged in concourse, ho!
    Come hither, see the gift of God, my eyes!

[412] "Through rock and wall, o’er hill and dale, whatever bar may be,
A hundred leagues on every side these eyes of mine can see.
"Self-sacrifice in all men mortal living,
    Of all things is most fine:
I sacrificed a mortal eye; and giving,
    Received an eye divine.
"See, people! see, give ere ye eat, let others have a share.
    This done with your best will and care,
    Blameless to heaven you shall repair."
In these four verses he declared the Law; and after that, every fortnight, on the holy day, even every fifteenth day, he declared the Law in these same verses without cessation to a great gathering of people. Hearing which, the people gave alms and did good deeds, and went to swell the hosts of heaven.

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When the Master had ended this discourse, he said, "Thus Brethren, wise men of old gave to any chance comer, who was not content with outside gifts, even their own eyes, taken out of their head." Then he identified the Birth: "At that time Ānanda was Sīvaka the physician, Anaruddha was Sakka, the Buddha's followers were the people, and I myself was King Sivi."

Footnotes

250:1 See Avadāna Çātaka, iv. 4 (34), and the note on p. 127 of Feer's translation (Musée Guimet): Jātaka Mālā no. 2, Çibi Jātaka: Cariyā-piṭaka no. 8, Sivirāja-C. Milinda-pañha, iv. i. 42 (p. 179 of the translation).
250:2 This is the Āditta jātaka, No. 424 (iii. 280 of this translation).
250:3 Dhammapada, 177.
252:1 Vanibbako in line 3 seems to be written by dittography. Some genitive would be looked for, and Fausbøll's vanibbino may be right; the form occurs in iii. 312.4 (Pali).
253:1 The scholiast explains this to mean Hell.
253:2 The scholiast adds: "The supreme Buddha, while explaining the Cariyā-piṭaka to Sariputta, Captain of the Faith, to make clear the saying that omniscience was dearer even than both eyes," quoted two lines from the Cariyā-piṭaka, p. 78, 16-17, beginning na me dessā…
253:3 Reading laddha tvaṁ as two words.
254:1 This scene appears to be represented on the Stupa of Bharhut: see Cunningham, Plate XLVIII. 2.
256:1 This should strictly be -seṇiyo: perhaps all the officers or soldiers, compare ii. 12. 8, 52. 21.

No. 500.

SIRIMANDA-JĀTAKA.

"Of wisdom full," etc.—This Problem of Sirimanda will be given at large in the Mahā-ummagga 1.

No. 501.

ROHANTA-MIGA-JĀTAKA.

[413] "In fear of death," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in the Bamboo Grove, about the reverend Ānanda, who made renunciation of his life. This renunciation will be described in Book XXI., under the Culla-haṁsa Birth 2, the Subduing of Dhanapāla. When this reverend man had renounced his life for the Master's sake, they gossiped about it in the Hall of Truth: "Sirs, the reverend Ānanda, having attained to the detailed knowledge of the course of religious training, renounced his life for the Dasabala." The Master came in, asking what they spoke of as they sat there. They told him. Said he, "Brothers, this is not the first time he has laid down his life for my sake; he has done it before." Then he told them a story of the past.

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Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, his chief consort's name was Khemā. At that time the Bodhisatta was born in the Himalaya region, as a stag: golden-hued he was and beautiful, and his younger brother, named Citta-miga, or Dapple Deer, was also of the colour of gold, and so also his younger sister Sutanā. Now the Great Being's name was Rohanta, and he was king of the deer. Traversing two ranges of the mountains, in the third he lived beside a lake called Lake Rohanta, and surrounded by a herd of eighty thousand deer. He used to support his parents, who were old and blind.
Now a hunter, who lived in a village of hunters near Benares, came to the Himalayas, and saw the Great Being. He returned to his

village, and on his death-bed told his son, "My boy, in such a part of our hunting-ground there is a golden deer; if the king should ask, you may tell him of it."
One day Queen Khemā, in the dawning, saw a dream, and this was the manner of that dream. A gold-coloured stag sat on a golden seat, and he discoursed to the queen on the Law with a honey-sweet voice, like the sound of a golden bell tinkling. She listened with great delight to this discoursing, but before the discourse was ended the deer rose and went away; and she awoke, crying out—"Catch me the stag!" The attendants, hearing her cry, burst out a-laughing. "Here's the house shut close, door and window; not even a breath of air can get in, and at such a time my lady calls out to catch her the stag!" [414] By this time she understood that it was a dream. But she said to herself, "If I say, it is a dream, the king will make no account of it; but if I say, it is my woman's craving, he will attend to it with all care. I will hear the discourse of the golden stag!" Then she lay down as though sick. The king came in: "What is wrong with my queen?" said he. "Oh, my lord, only my natural craving."—"What do you wish?"—"I wish to hear the discourse of a righteous golden stag."—"Why, my lady, what you crave does not exist: there is no such thing as a golden stag." She said, "If I don't get it, die I must on the spot." She turned her back on the king, and lay still. "If there is one, it shall be caught," said the king. Then he questioned his courtiers and brahmins, just as in the Peacock Birth 1, whether there were such things as golden deer. Finding that there were, he summoned the huntsmen, and asked, "Which of you has seen or heard of such a creature?" The son of the hunter we spoke of told the story as he heard it. "My man," said the king, "when you bring me this deer I will reward you richly; go and bring it here." He gave the money for his expenses, and dismissed him. The man said, "Never fear: if I cannot bring the stag I will bring his skin; if I can't get that I will bring his hair." Then the man returned home, and gave the king's money to his family. Then he went out and saw the royal stag. "Where shall I lay my snare," he mused, "so as to catch him?" He saw his chance at the drinking-place. He twisted a stout cord of leather thongs, and set it with a pole at the place where the Great Being went down to drink water.
Next day, the Great Being with the eighty thousand deer during his search for food came thither to drink water at the usual ford. Just as he was going down, he was caught in the noose. Then he thought, "If I cry out the cry of capture 2, all my troop will flee in

terror without drinking." [415] Although he was fast at the end of the pole, he stood pretending to drink, as if he were free. When the eighty thousand deer had drunk, and now stood clear of the water, he thrice jerked at the noose, to break it if possible. The first time he cut his skin, the second time cut into his flesh, and the third time he strained a tendon, so that the snare touched the bone. Then, unable to break it, he uttered the cry of capture: all the herd of deer fled terrified in three troops. Citta-miga could not see the Great Being in any of the three troops: "This danger," thought he, "which has come upon us, has fallen on my brother." Then returning, he saw him there fast caught. The Great Being caught sight of him, and cried, "Don't stand there, brother, there is danger here!" Then, urging him to flee, he repeated the first stanza:

"In fear of death, O Cittaka, those herds of creatures flee:
Go thou with them, and linger not, for they shall live with thee."

The three stanzas which follow are said by the two alternately:

"No, no, Rohanta, I'll not go; my heart has drawn me near;
I'm ready to lay down my life, I will not leave thee here."

"Then blind, with none to care for them, our parents 1 both must die:
O go, and let them live with thee: O do not linger nigh!"
"No, no, Rohanta, I'll not go; my heart has drawn me near;
I'm ready to lay down my life, I will not leave thee here."
[416] He took his stand, supporting the Bodhisatta on the right side, and cheering him.
Sutanā also, the young doe, ran about among the deer, but could not find her brothers anywhere. "This danger," she thought, "must have fallen upon my brothers." She turned back and came to them; and the Great Being, as he saw her come, repeated the fifth stanza:

"Go, timid doe, and run away; an iron snare holds me:
Go with the rest, and linger not, and they shall live with thee."

The three next stanzas are said alternately as before:

"No, no, Rohanta, I'll not go; my heart has drawn me near;
I'm ready to lay down my life, I will not leave thee here."

"Then blind, with none to care for them, our parents both must die:
O go, and let them live with thee: O do not linger nigh!"
"No, no, Rohanta, I'll not go; my heart has drawn me near;
I'll lose my life, but never leave thee snared and captured here."
Thus she also refused to obey; and stood by his left side consoling him.
Now the huntsman saw the deer scampering off, and heard the cry of capture. "It must be the king of the herd is caught!" he said; and, tightening his girdle, he grasped the spear to give him the death,

and ran quickly up. The Great Being repeated the ninth stanza as he saw him coming:

"The furious hunter, arms in hand, see him approaching near!
And he will slay us here to-day with arrow or with spear."

[417] Citta did not flee, though he saw the man. But Sutanā, not being strong enough to stand still, ran a little way for fear of death. Then with the thought—"Where shall I flee if I desert my two brothers?" she returned again, renouncing her own life 1, with death on her brow, and stood by the left side of her brother.

---

To explain this, the Master recited the tenth stanza:

"The tender doe in panic fear a little way did fly,
Then did a thing most hard to do, for she returned to die."

---

When the hunter came up, he saw these three creatures standing together. A pitiful thought arose in his heart, as he guessed they were brothers and sister born of one womb. "Only the king of the herd," thought he, "is caught in the snare; the other two are bound with the ties of honour. What kin can they be to him?" which question he asked thus:

"What are these deer that wait upon the prisoner, though free,
Nor for the sake of very life will leave him here, and flee?"

Then the Bodhisatta answered:

"My brother and my sister these, of one same mother born:
Nor for the sake of very life will leave me here forlorn."

These words made his heart more exceedingly soft. Citta, that royal stag, perceiving that his heart grew soft, said, "Friend hunter, do not imagine that this creature is a deer and no more. He is king of fourscore thousand deer, one of virtuous life, tenderhearted to all creatures, of great wisdom; he supports his sire and dam, now blind and old. If you slay a righteous being like this, in slaying him you slay dam and sire, my sister and me, all five; but if you grant my brother his life, you bestow life on the five of us." [418] Then he repeated a stanza:

"Grown blind, with none to care for them, they both will perish so:
O grant thou life to all the five, and let my brother go!"

When the hunter heard this pious discourse, he was glad at heart. "Fear not, my lord," said he, and repeated the next stanza:

"So be it: see I now set free the parent-fostering deer:
His parents when they find him safe shall make a merry cheer."

As he said this, he thought: "What do I want with the king and his honours? If I hurt this royal deer, either the earth will gape and swallow me up, or a thunderbolt will fall and strike me. I will let him go." So approaching the Great Being, he pulled down the pole, and cut the leather thong; then he embraced the deer, and laid him close to the water, tenderly and gently loosed him out of the noose, joined the ends of the tendon, and the lips of the flesh-wound, and the edges of the skin, washed off the blood with water, pitifully chafed him again and again. By the power of his love and the Great Being's perfection all grew whole again, sinews, flesh, and skin: hide and hair covered the foot: no one could have guessed where he had been wounded. The Great Being stood there, full of happiness. Citta looked on him and rejoiced, and rendered thanks to the hunter in this stanza:

"Hunter, be happy now, and may thy kindred happy be,
As I am happy to behold the mighty stag set free."

Now the Great Being thought, "Is it of his own doing this hunter snared me, or at the bidding of another?" and he asked the cause of his capture. The huntsman said: "My lord, I have nothing to do with you; but the king's consort, Khemā, desires to hear you discourse of righteousness; therefore I snared you at the king's bidding."—"That being so, my good friend, you did a bold thing to set me free. [419] Come, bring me to the king, and I will discourse before the queen."—"Indeed, my lord, kings are cruel. Who knows what may come of it? I don't care for any honour the king might show me: go where you will." But again the Great Being thought it was a bold thing to set him free; he must give him a chance of winning the promised honour. So he said, "Friend, chafe my back with your hand." He did so; his hand became covered with golden hairs. "What shall I do with these hairs, my lord?"—"Take them, my friend, show them to the king and queen, tell them here are hairs from that golden stag; take my place, and discourse to them in the words of these verses I shall repeat: when she hears you, that will alone be sufficient to satisfy her craving." "Recite the Law, O king!" said the man; and the other taught him ten stanzas of the holy life, and described the Five Virtues, and dismissed him with a warning to be vigilant. The hunter treated the Great Being as one would treat a teacher: thrice he walked round him right-wise, did the four obeisances, and wrapping the hairs in a lotus leaf went away. The three animals accompanied him for a little way, then after feeding and drinking, returned to their parents.
Father and mother questioned him: "Rohanta, my son, we heard you were caught, and how came you free?" They put the question in a stanza:

"How didst thou win thy liberty when life was nearly done:
How did the hunter set thee free from treacherous trap, my son?"

In answer to which the Bodhisatta repeated three stanzas:

"Cittaka won me liberty with words that charmed the ear,
That touched the heart, that pierced the heart, words uttered sweet and clear.

"Sutanā won me liberty with words that charmed the ear,
That touched the heart, that pierced the heart, words uttered sweet and clear.
[420] "The hunter gave me liberty, these charming words to hear,
That touched the heart, that pierced the heart, words uttered sweet and clear."
His parents expressed their gratitude, saying:

"He with his wife and family, O happy may they be,
As we are happy to behold Rohanta now set free!"

Now the huntsman came out of the wood, and went to the king; then saluting him stood on one side. The king when he saw him said:

"Come tell me, hunter: dost thou say, "See the deer's hide I bring":
Or hast thou no deer's hide to show because of any thing?"

The hunter replied:

"Into my hands the creature came, into my privy snare,
And was fast caught: but others, free, attended on him there.

"Then pity made my flesh to creep, a pity strange and new.
If I should slay this deer (thought I) then I shall perish too."
"What were these deer, O hunter, what their nature and their ways,
What colour theirs, what quality, to merit such high praise?"
The king put this question several times over, as one much astonished. The hunter replied in this stanza:
[421]

"With silvery horns and graceful shape, with hide and fell most bright,
Red slot, and shining brilliant eyes all lovely to the sight."

As he repeated this stanza, the huntsman placed in the king's hand those golden hairs of the Great Being, and in another verse summed up the description of the character of these deer:

"Such is their nature and their ways, my lord, and such these deer:
They used to find their parents food: I could not fetch them here."

In these words he described the qualities of the Great Being, and of the stag Citta, and of Sutanā the doe; adding this, "The royal stag, O king, showed me his hairs, commanding me to take his place, and to declare the Law before the queen in ten stanzas of a holy life 1."[422] Then sitting upon a golden throne, he declared the Law in those stanzas.
  The queen's craving was satisfied. The king was pleased, and repeated these stanzas, as he rewarded the huntsman with great honour

"A jewelled earring give I thee, a hundred drachms of gold,
A lovely throne like flower of flax, with cushions laid fourfold 1,

"Two wives of equal rank and worth, a bull and kine five score,
My benefactor! and I'll rule with justice evermore.
"Trade, farming, gleaning 2, usury, whate’er thy calling be,
See that thou sin not, but by these support thy family."
[423] When he heard these words of the king's, he answered, "No house or home for me; grant me, my lord, to become an ascetic." The king's consent given, he handed over the king's rich gifts to his wife and family, and went away to Himalaya, where he embraced the ascetic life, and cultivated the Eight Attainments, and became destined for Brahma's world. And the king clave to the Great One's teaching, and went to swell the hosts of heaven. The teaching endured for a thousand yèars.

---

This discourse ended, the Master said, "Thus, Brethren, long ago as now Ānanda renounced life for my sake." Then he identified the Birth: "At that time, Channa was the huntsman and Sāriputta the king, a sister was Queen Khemā; some of the king's family were the father and mother, Uppalavaṇṇā was Sutanā, Ānanda was Citta, the Sākiya clan were the eighty thousand deer, and I was myself the royal stag Rohanta."

---

"To friends and courtiers, warrior king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.

"In war and travel, warrior king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
"In town and village, warrior king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
"In every land and realm, O king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
"To brahmins and ascetics all, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
"To beasts and birds, O warrior king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
"Do righteously, O warrior king; from this all blessings flow:
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
"With watchful vigilance, O king, on paths of goodness go:
The brahmins, Indra, and the gods have won their godhead so.
"These are the maxims told of old: and following wisdom's ways
The goddess of all happiness herself to heaven did raise."
In this manner did the huntsman declare the Law, as the Great Being had shown him, with a Buddha's skill, as though he were bringing down to earth the heavenly Ganges. The crowd with a thousand voices cried approval. The queen's longing was satisfied when she heard the discourse.

Footnotes

257:1 No. 546, vol. vi. 329 (Pali).
257:2 No. 533, vol. v. 333 (Pali).
258:1 Mora jātaka: No. 129, Vol. ii. p. 53.
258:2 Correct vol. ii. 153 (trans. p. 109) and iii. 184 (p. 122), where it is translated (with Childers) "loud and long," "a succession of cries."
259:1 The word "parents" is supplied by the scholiast: it is "those" in the text.
260:1 i.e. accepting death as her fate (written on the forehead).
262:1 The Burmese recension reads: Then the king seated him on his royal throne inlaid with seven kinds of jewels; and sitting himself with his queen on a lowly seat, placed to one side, with a reverential obeisance, he begged him to speak. The hunter spoke thus, declaring the Law:

"Unto thy parents, warrior king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.

"To wife and child, O warrior king, do righteously; and so
By following a righteous life to heaven the king shall go.
263:1 catussado is so explained by the scholiast. On p. 309. 26 (=p. 195 note 2 above) he paraphrases it as "rich in four different things" there specified. The word ussado is derived by Childers from Skt. utsad and rendered "protuberance." It also may mean "sprinkled" or "covered" (Skt. utsādita), iii. 512. 10, iv. 60. 6.
263:2 The MS. uñchācariyāya gives a syllable too many, and should perhaps be uñchācariyā, then the sentence is anacoluthic.

No. 502.

HAṀSA-JĀTAKA.

"There go the birds," etc.—This story the Master told while dwelling in the Bamboo Grove, about Elder Ānanda's renunciation of life. Then also the Brethren were talking in the Hall of Truth about the Elder's good qualities, when the Master came in and asked them what they sat talking of there. He said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that Ānanda has renounced his life for my sake, but he did the same before." And then he told them a story of the past.

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Once upon a time, there reigned in Benares a king named Bahuputtaka, or the Father of Many Sons, and his Queen Consort was Khemā. At that time the Great Being dwelt on Mount Cittakūṭa, and he was the chief of ninety thousand wild geese, having come to life as a golden goose. [424] And at that time, as already recounted, the queen saw a dream, and told the king she had conceived a woman's craving to hear a Golden Goose discourse of the Law. When the king enquired, were there any such creatures as golden geese, he was told yes, there were on Mount Cittakūṭa. Then he had made a lake which he called Khemā, and caused to be planted all manner of food-corn, and daily in the four quarters made proclamation of immunity to be cried, and sent forth a hunter to catch geese. How this man was sent forth, and his watching of the birds, and how news was told the king when the golden geese came, and in what manner the snare was set and the Great Being was caught in the snare, how Sumukha chief captain of the geese saw him not in the three divisions of the geese, and returned, all this will be set forth in the Mahāhaṁsa Birth 1. Now as then the Great Being was caught in the noose and stick; and even as he hung in the noose at the end of the stick, he stretched forth his neck looking along the way that the geese had gone, and espying Sumukha as he came, thought, "When he comes I will put him to the test." So when he came, the Great Being repeated three stanzas:

"There go the birds, the ruddy geese, all overcome with fear:
O golden-yellow Sumukha, depart! what want you here?

"My kith and kin deserted me, away they all have flown,
Without a thought they fly away: why are you left alone?
"Fly, noble bird! with prisoners no fellowship can be:
Sumukha, fly! nor lose the chance while you may yet be free."

[425] To which Sumukha replied, sitting on the mud—

"No, I'll not leave you, Royal Goose, when trouble draweth nigh:
But stay I will, and by your side will either live or die."

Thus Sumukha, with a lion's note; and Dhataraṭṭha answered with this stanza:

"A noble heart, brave words are these, Sumukha, which you say:
’Twas but to put you to the test I bade you fly away."

As they were thus conversing together, up comes the huntsman, staff in hand, at the top of his speed. Sumukha encouraged Dhataraṭṭha, and flew to meet the man, respectfully declaring the virtues of the royal bird. Immediately the hunter's heart was softened; which Sumukha perceiving, went back, and stood encouraging the king of the geese. And the hunter approaching the king of the geese, recited the sixth stanza:

"They foot it by unfooted ways, birds flying in the sky:
And did you not, O noble Goose, afar the snare espy?"

The Great Being said:

"When life is coming to an end, and death's hour draws anigh,
Though you may close upon it come nor trap nor snare you spy 1."

[426] The hunter, pleased with the bird's remark, then addressed three stanzas to Sumukha.

"There go the birds, the ruddy geese, all overcome with fear:
And you, O golden-yellow fowl, are still left waiting here.

"They ate and drank, the ruddy geese: uncaring, they are flown;
Away they scurry through the air, and you are left alone.
"What is this fowl, that when the rest deserting him have flown,
Though free, you join the prisoner—why are you left alone?"
Sumukha replied:

"He is my comrade, friend, and king, dear as my life is he:
Forsake him—no, I never will, until death calls for me."

On hearing this the hunter was much pleased, and thought within him—"If I should harm virtuous creatures like these, the earth would gape open and swallow me up. What care I for the king's reward? I will set them free." And he repeated a stanza:

"Now seeing that for friendship's sake you are prepared to die,
I set your king and comrade free, to follow where you fly."

This said, he drew down Dhataraṭṭha from the stick, and loosed the noose, and took him to the bank, and pitifully washed the blood from him, [427] and set the dislocated muscles and tendons. And by reason of his

kindness of heart, and by the might of the Great Being's Perfections 1, on the instant his foot became whole again, and not a mark showed where he had been caught. Sumukha beheld the Great Being with joy, and gave thanks in these words:

"With all your kindred and your friends, O hunter, happy be 2,
As I am happy to behold the King of birds set free."

When the hunter heard this, he said, "Now you may depart, friend." Then the Great Being said to him, "Did you capture me for your own purposes, my good sir, or at the bidding of another?" He told him the facts. The other wondered whether it were better to return to Cittakūṭa, or go to the town. "If I go to the town," he thought, "the hunter will be rewarded, the queen's craving will be appeased, Sumukha's friendship will be made known, then also by virtue of my wisdom I shall receive the lake Khemā, as a free gift. It is better therefore to go to the city." This determined, he said, "Huntsman, take us on your carrying-pole to the king, and he shall set me free if he will."—"My lord, kings are hard; go your ways."—"What! I have softened a hunter like thee, and shall I not find favour with a king? Leave that to me; your part, friend, is to convey us to him." The man did so.
When the king set eyes on the geese, he was delighted. He placed both the geese on a golden perch, gave them honey and fried grain to eat and sweetened water to drink, and holding his hands out in supplication prayed them to speak of the Law. The king of the geese seeing how eager he was to hear first addressed him in pleasant words. These are the stanzas expressing the converse of king and goose one with another.

Now has his honor health and wealth, and is the kingdom full
Of welfare and prosperity, and does he justly rule?"

[428] "O here is health and wealth, O Goose, and here's a kingdom full
Of welfare and prosperity, with just and righteous rule."
"Is there no blemish seen amid your court, and are your foes
Far off; and like the shadow on the south, which never grows 3?"
"There is no blemish seen amid my courtiers, and my foes
Far off are like the shadow on the south, which never grows 3."
"And is your queen of equal birth, obedient, sweet of speech,
Fruitful, fair, famous, waiting on your wishes, doing each?"
"O yes, my queen's of equal birth, obedient, sweet of speech,
Fruitful, fair, famous, waiting on my wishes, doing each."
"O fostering ruler! have you sons a many, nobly bred,
Quickwitted, easy men to please whatever thing be sped?"

"O Dhataraṭṭha! sons I have of fame, five score and one:
Tell them their duty: they'll not leave your good advice undone."

On hearing this, the Great Being gave them admonition in five stanzas:

"He that puts off until too late the effort to do good,
Though nobly bred, with virtue dowered, yet sinks beneath the flood.

[429] "His knowledge fades, great loss is his; as one moonblind at night 1
Sees all things swollen twice their size with his imperfect sight.
"Who sees the truth in falsity no wisdom gains at all,
As on a rugged mountain-path the deer will often fall.
"If any strong courageous man loves virtue, follows right,
Though but a low-born churl, he burns like bonfires in the night.
"By using this similitude all wisdom's truths explain,
Cherish your sons till wise they grow, like seedlings in the rain."
[430] Thus did the Great Being discourse to the king the livelong night. The queen's craving was appeased. By sunrise he established him in the virtues of kings, and exhorted him to be vigilant, then with Sumukha flew out of the northern window and to Cittakūṭa away.

---

After this discourse, the Master said, "Thus, Brethren, this man offered his life for me before," and then he identified the Birth: "At that time Channa was the huntsman, Sāriputta the king, a sister was Queen Khemā, the Sākiya tribe was the flock of geese, Ānanda was Sumukha, and I was the Goose King myself."

Footnotes

264:1 No. 534, where the king of the geese is named Dhataraṭṭha.
265:1 This couplet occurs in ii. 52 (p. 35 of translation), and iii. 331 (p. 204,"When ruin…").
266:1 The Ten Perfections of the Bodhisatta are given in Childers' Dictionary, p. 335 a.
266:2 This line occurs in iii. 331 (p. 204 of translation, "O hunter…").
266:3 The last three words come from the scholiast's note.

Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 

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