THE JĀTAKA
OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS
No. 364.
KHAJJOPANAKA-JĀTAKA.
No. 365.
AHIGUṆḌIKA-JĀTAKA.
"Lo! here we lie," etc.—This story the Master, whilst living at Jetavana, told concerning an aged priest. The story has been already related in full in the Sālaka Birth. 1 In this version also the old man after ordaining a village lad abuses and strikes him. The lad escaped and returned to the world. [198] The old man once more admitted him to orders, and acted just as before. The youth, after he had for the third time returned to the world, on being again solicited to come back, would not so much as look the old man in the face. The matter was talked over in the Hall of Truth, how that a certain elder could live neither with his novice nor without him, while the boy after seeing the old man's fault of temper, being a sensitive youth, would not even look at him. The Master cameand asked what was the subject of discussion. When they told him, he said, "Not now only, Brethren, but formerly also this same youth was a sensitive novice, who after observing the elder's faults would not so much as look at him." And so saying he told a story of the past.
Now a certain snake-charmer caught a monkey and trained him to play with a snake. And when a festival was proclaimed at Benares, he left the monkey with the corn-merchant and roamed about for seven days, making sport with the snake. The merchant meanwhile fed the monkey with food both hard and soft. On the seventh day the snake-charmer got drunk at the festival merry-making, and came back and struck the monkey three times with a piece of bamboo, and then taking him with him to a garden, he tied him up and fell asleep. The monkey got loose from his chain, and climbing up a mango tree, sat there eating the fruit. The snake-charmer on waking up saw the monkey perched on the tree and thought, "I must catch him by wheedling him." And in talking with him he repeated the first stanza:
Lo! here we lie, my pretty one,
Like gambler by the dice undone.
Let fall some mangoes: well we know,
Our living to thy tricks we owe.
The monkey, on hearing this, uttered the remaining verses:Like gambler by the dice undone.
Let fall some mangoes: well we know,
Our living to thy tricks we owe.
Thy praises, friend, unmeaning sound;
A pretty monkey ne’er was found.
[199] Who in the stores, when drunk, I pray,
Did starve and beat me sore to-day?
When I, snake-charmer, call to mind
The bed of pain where I reclined,
Though I should some day be a king,
No prayer from me this boon should wring,
Thy cruelty remembering.
But if a man is known to live
Content at home, is apt to give,
And springs of gentle race, the wise
With such should form the closest ties.
With these words the monkey was lost in a crowd of
fellow-monkeys. 1A pretty monkey ne’er was found.
[199] Who in the stores, when drunk, I pray,
Did starve and beat me sore to-day?
When I, snake-charmer, call to mind
The bed of pain where I reclined,
Though I should some day be a king,
No prayer from me this boon should wring,
Thy cruelty remembering.
But if a man is known to live
Content at home, is apt to give,
And springs of gentle race, the wise
With such should form the closest ties.
Footnotes
130:1 See No. 249, vol. ii.131:1 Another reading gives, "was lost in a thicket of trees".
No. 366.
GUMBIYA-JĀTAKA. 1
[200] "Poison like honey," etc.—This story was told by the Master while dwelling at Jetavana, about a Brother who regretted taking orders. The Master asked him if it were true that he regretted it. "It is true, Holy Sir," he said. "What have you seen to cause this feeling?" asked the Master. When the Brother replied, "It was owing to the charms of a woman," the Master said, "These five qualities of desire are like the honey sprinkled over with deadly poison, and left in the road by one Gumbika." And hereupon at the request of the Brother he told a story of the past.Then a certain Yakkha, named Gumbiya, strewed leaves on a spot in the middle of the forest, and dropping some pieces of honey, covered them with deadly poison, and himself wandered all about the road, pretending to tap the trees, as if he were looking for honey. In their ignorance men thought, "This honey must have been left here as a meritorious act," and then through eating it, they met their death. And the demons came and devoured their flesh. The men also belonging to the Bodhisatta's caravan, some of them being naturally greedy, at the sight of these dainties, could not restrain themselves, and partook of them. But those that were wise said, "We will consult the Bodhisatta before we eat," and stood holding it in their hands. And when he saw what they had in their hands, he made them throw it away. And those that had already eaten the whole of it died. But to those who had eaten only half of it, he administered an emetic, and after they had vomited, [201] he gave them the four sweet things, and so by his supernatural power they recovered. The Bodhisatta
arrived in safety at the place he wished to reach, and after disposing of his wares, he returned to his own house.
Poison like honey in look, taste, and
smell,
Was laid by Gumbiya with purpose fell:
All who as honey ate the noxious food,
Through their own greed did perish in the wood.
But they who wisely from the bait abstained,
Were free from torture and at peace remained.
So lust, like poison-bait, for man is laid;
His heart's desire has oft to death betrayed.
But who, though frail, besetting sins forego,
Escape from bonds of suffering and woe.
Was laid by Gumbiya with purpose fell:
All who as honey ate the noxious food,
Through their own greed did perish in the wood.
But they who wisely from the bait abstained,
Were free from torture and at peace remained.
So lust, like poison-bait, for man is laid;
His heart's desire has oft to death betrayed.
But who, though frail, besetting sins forego,
Escape from bonds of suffering and woe.
Footnotes
132:1 Compare No. 85, vol. i.No. 367.
SĀLIYA-JĀTAKA.
"Who got his friend," etc.—This was a story told by the Master, whilst living in the Bamboo Grove, in reference to a saying that Devadatta could not even inspire alarm.[203] "See, here is one lying in the fork of this tree," said the old man.
The Bodhisatta, not knowing it was a snake, climbed up the tree and seized it by the neck, but when he found it was a snake, he did not allow
it to turn upon him, but getting a good grip of it, he hastily flung it from him. It fell on the neck of the old doctor, and coiling round him, it bit him so severely 1 that its teeth met in his flesh and the old man fell down dead on the spot, and the snake made its escape. People gathered together about him, and the Great Being, in expounding the Law to the assembled multitude, repeated these verses:
Who got his friend to seize
A deadly snake, as hedgehog, if you please,
By the snake's bite was killed
As one that evil to his neighbour willed.
He that to strike is fain
The man that never striketh back again,
Is struck and lieth low,
E’en as this knave sore hurt by deadly blow.
So dust that should be thrown
Against the wind, back in one's face is blown;
And ill designed to one
That holy is, and has no evil done,
On the fool's pate at last
Recoils, like dust when thrown against the blast.
A deadly snake, as hedgehog, if you please,
By the snake's bite was killed
As one that evil to his neighbour willed.
He that to strike is fain
The man that never striketh back again,
Is struck and lieth low,
E’en as this knave sore hurt by deadly blow.
So dust that should be thrown
Against the wind, back in one's face is blown;
And ill designed to one
That holy is, and has no evil done,
On the fool's pate at last
Recoils, like dust when thrown against the blast.
No. 368.
TACASĀRA-JĀTAKA.
204] "Fallen into hand of foes," etc.—This story the Master, whilst dwelling at Jetavana, told concerning the Perfection of Wisdom. It was then the Master said, "Not now only, Brethren, but formerly also the Tathāgata proved himself wise and full of resources." And herewith he related an old legend of the past.Once upon a time in the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born in the household of a village proprietor. The whole story runs on exactly like that of the previous birth. But in this version when the doctor was dead, his village neighbours said, "These youths have
caused the man's death. We will bring them before the king." And they bound them in fetters and led them to Benares. The Bodhisatta in the course of his journey admonished the other lads and said to them: "Do not be afraid. Even when you are brought into the presence of the king, show yourselves fearless and happy in your mind. The king will first of all talk with us, and afterwards I shall know what to do." They readily acquiesced in what he said, and acted accordingly. When the king found them calm and happy, he said, "These poor wretches have been bound in chains and brought here as murderers, and although they have come to such misery, they are without fear and even happy. I will ask them the reason why they are not troubled."
And he repeated the first stanza:
Fallen into hand of foes
And with bamboo fetters bound,
How can ye conceal your woes,
And with smiling face be found?
On hearing this the Bodhisatta uttered the remaining verses:And with bamboo fetters bound,
How can ye conceal your woes,
And with smiling face be found?
There is no
good however slight,
That man from groans and mourning e’er will gain;
His adversaries feel delight,
When they behold a foe o’ercome with pain.
[205] But enemies with grief are filled
When with bold front he goes to meet his fate,
And blenches not, as one well-skilled
All things with judgment to discriminate.
Be it by muttered spell or charm,
By lavish gifts, or help of powerful kin,
That he may best escape from harm,
A man should strive some vantage ground to win.
But should he fail to reach success,
With others' aid or by himself alone,
He should not grieve but acquiesce;
Fate is too strong, his utmost he has done.
[206] The king on hearing the Bodhisatta's exposition of the law,
investigated the matter, and discovering the innocence of the boys, he had
their fetters removed, and bestowed much honour on the Great Being, and made
him his temporal and spiritual adviser and his valued minister. He also
conferred honour on the other youths and appointed them to various offices.That man from groans and mourning e’er will gain;
His adversaries feel delight,
When they behold a foe o’ercome with pain.
[205] But enemies with grief are filled
When with bold front he goes to meet his fate,
And blenches not, as one well-skilled
All things with judgment to discriminate.
Be it by muttered spell or charm,
By lavish gifts, or help of powerful kin,
That he may best escape from harm,
A man should strive some vantage ground to win.
But should he fail to reach success,
With others' aid or by himself alone,
He should not grieve but acquiesce;
Fate is too strong, his utmost he has done.
Footnotes
134:1 Reading karakarā nikhāditvā, cf. the Sanskrit kaṭakaṭā.No. 369.
MITTAVINDA-JĀTAKA. 1
"What was the evil," etc.—This story the Master whilst living at Jetavana told concerning an unruly Brother. The incident that led to the story will be found in the Mahāmittavinda Birth.
What was the evil wrought by me,
Thus to provoke the curse of heaven,
That my poor head should ever be
With circling wheel of torture riven?
[207] The Bodhisatta, on hearing this, uttered the second stanza:Thus to provoke the curse of heaven,
That my poor head should ever be
With circling wheel of torture riven?
Forsaking homes of joy and bliss,
That decked with pearls, with crystal this,
And halls of gold and silver sheen,
What brought thee to this gloomy scene?
Then Mittavindaka replied in a third stanza:That decked with pearls, with crystal this,
And halls of gold and silver sheen,
What brought thee to this gloomy scene?
"Far fuller joys I there shall
gain
Than any these poor worlds can show."
This was the thought that proved my bane
And brought me to this scene of woe.
The Bodhisatta then repeated the remaining stanzas:Than any these poor worlds can show."
This was the thought that proved my bane
And brought me to this scene of woe.
From four to eight, to sixteen thence,
and so
To thirty-two insatiate greed doth grow.
Thus on and on thou, greedy soul, wert led
Till doomed to wear this wheel upon thy head.
So all, pursuing covetous desire,
Insatiate still, yet more and more require:
The broadening path of appetite they tread,
And, like thee, bear this wheel upon their head.
To thirty-two insatiate greed doth grow.
Thus on and on thou, greedy soul, wert led
Till doomed to wear this wheel upon thy head.
So all, pursuing covetous desire,
Insatiate still, yet more and more require:
The broadening path of appetite they tread,
And, like thee, bear this wheel upon their head.
But while Mittavindaka was still speaking, the wheel fell upon him and crushed him, so that he could say no more. But the divine being returned straight to his celestial abode.
Footnotes
136:1 See Nos. 41, 82, 104, vol. i., and Divyāvadāna, p. 603.No. 370.
PALĀSA-JĀTAKA.
"The goose said to the Judas tree," etc.—This was a story told by the Master, whilst residing at Jetavana, concerning the rebuke of sin. The incident that led to the story will be set forth in the Paññā Birth. But on this occasion the Master addressing the Brethren said, "Brothers, sin ought to be regarded with suspicion. Though it be as small as a banyan shoot, it may prove fatal. Sages of old too suspected whatever was open to suspicion." And with this he related a story of the past.[209]
The goose said to the Judas tree,
"A banyan shoot is threatening thee:
What thou dost in thy bosom rear
Will rend thee limb from limb, I fear."
On hearing this the tree-god, not heeding his words, repeated the
second stanza:"A banyan shoot is threatening thee:
What thou dost in thy bosom rear
Will rend thee limb from limb, I fear."
Well! let it grow, and should I be
A refuge to the banyan tree,
And tend it with a parent's love,
It will to me a blessing prove.
Then the goose uttered the third stanza:A refuge to the banyan tree,
And tend it with a parent's love,
It will to me a blessing prove.
It is a cursed shoot, I fear,
Thou dost within thy bosom rear.
I say goodbye and off I flee,
This growth alas! misliketh me.
With these words the royal goose spread out his wings and made
straight for mount Cittakūṭa. Thenceforth
he came not back any more. By and bye the banyan shoot grew up. This tree also
had its guardian deity. And in its growth, it broke down the Judas tree, and
with a branch the abode of the tree-god also fell. At this moment reflecting on
the words of the royal goose, the tree-god thought, [210] "The king of the
geese foresaw this danger in the future and warned me of it, but I did not
hearken unto his words." And thus lamenting, he uttered the fourth stanza:Thou dost within thy bosom rear.
I say goodbye and off I flee,
This growth alas! misliketh me.
A spectre grim like Meru's height
Has brought me to a fearful plight;
Scorning the words friend goosey said,
I now am overwhelmed with dread.
Thus did the banyan, as it grew up, break down all the Judas tree
and reduce it to a mere stump, and the dwelling place of the tree-god wholly
disappeared.Has brought me to a fearful plight;
Scorning the words friend goosey said,
I now am overwhelmed with dread.
Wise men abhor the parasitic thing
That chokes the form to which it loves to cling.
The wise, suspecting danger from the weed,
Destroy the root before it comes to seed.
This was the fifth stanza, inspired by Perfect Wisdom.That chokes the form to which it loves to cling.
The wise, suspecting danger from the weed,
Destroy the root before it comes to seed.
No. 371.
DĪGHITIKOSALA-JĀTAKA. 1
[211] "Thou art within my power," etc.—This story the Master, whilst dwelling at Jetavana, told concerning some quarrelsome folk from Kosambī. When they came to Jetavana, the Master addressed them at the time of their reconciliation and said, "Brethren, ye are my lawful sons in the faith, begotten by the words of my mouth. Children ought not to trample under foot the counsel given them by their father, but ye follow not my admonition. Sages of old, when the men who had slain their parents and seized upon their kingdom fell into their hands in the forest, did not put them to death, though they were confirmed rebels, but they said, "We will not trample on the counsel given us by our parents." And hereupon he related a story of the past. In this Birth both the incident that led up to the story and the story itself will be fully set forth in the Saṅghabhedaka Birth.
Thou art within my power, O king,
As prone thou liest here:
What stratagem hast thou to bring
Deliverance from thy fear?
Then the king uttered the second stanza:As prone thou liest here:
What stratagem hast thou to bring
Deliverance from thy fear?
Within thy power, my friend, I lie
All helpless on the ground,
Nor know I any means whereby
Deliverance may be found.
[212] Then the Bodhisatta repeated the remaining verses:All helpless on the ground,
Nor know I any means whereby
Deliverance may be found.
Good deeds and words alone, not wealth,
O king,
In hour of death can any comfort bring.
2"This man abused me, that struck me a blow,
A third o’ercame and robbed me long ago."
All such as harbour feelings of this kind,
To mitigate their wrath are ne’er inclined.
"He did abuse and buffet me of yore,
He overcame me and oppressed me sore."
In hour of death can any comfort bring.
2"This man abused me, that struck me a blow,
A third o’ercame and robbed me long ago."
All such as harbour feelings of this kind,
To mitigate their wrath are ne’er inclined.
"He did abuse and buffet me of yore,
He overcame me and oppressed me sore."
They who such thoughts refuse to
entertain,
Appease their wrath and live at one again.
Not hate, but love alone makes hate to cease:
This is the everlasting law of peace.
After these words the Bodhisatta said, "I will not do thee a
wrong, Sire. But do thou slay me." And he placed his sword in the king's
hand. The king too said, "Neither will I wrong thee." And he sware an
oath, and went with him to the city, and presented him to his councillors and
said, "This, Sirs, is prince Dīghāvu, the son of the king of Kosala. He
has spared my life. [213] I may not do him any harm." And so saying he
gave him his daughter in marriage, and established him in the kingdom that had
belonged to his father. Thenceforth the two kings reigned happily and
harmoniously together.Appease their wrath and live at one again.
Not hate, but love alone makes hate to cease:
This is the everlasting law of peace.
Footnotes
139:1 Compare No. 428 infra, Dhammapada, Comment., p. 104, and Mahāvagga, X. 2.139:2 Dhammapada v. 3-5.
No. 372.
MIGAPOTAKA-JĀTAKA.
"To sorrow for the dead," etc.—This story the Master, whilst dwelling at Jetavana, told about a certain elder. It is said that he admitted a youth to orders, and that this novice, after ministering to him zealously, by and bye fell sick and died. The old man overcome with grief at the youth's death went about loudly lamenting. The Brethren, failing to console him, raised a discussion in the Hall of Truth, saying, "A certain old man on the death of his novice goes about lamenting. By dwelling on the thought of death, he will surely become a castaway." When the Master came, he inquired of the Brethren what was the subject they had met to discuss, and on hearing what it was he said, "Not now only, but formerly also, the old man went about lamenting, when this youth died." And with this he related a story of the past.adopting the life of an ascetic lived on wild fruits. One day he found in the forest a young deer that had lost its dam. He took it home to his hermitage, and fed and cherished it. The young deer grew up a handsome and comely beast, and the ascetic took care of it and treated it as his own child. One day the young deer died of indigestion from a surfeit of grass. The ascetic went about lamenting and said, "My child is dead." Then Sakka, king of heaven, exploring the world, saw that ascetic, [214] and thinking to alarm him, he came and took his stand in the air and uttered the first stanza:
To sorrow for the dead doth ill become
The lone ascetic, free from ties of home.
The ascetic no sooner heard this than he uttered the second
stanza:The lone ascetic, free from ties of home.
Should man with beast consort, O Sakka,
grief
For a lost playmate finds in tears relief.
Then Sakka repeated two stanzas:For a lost playmate finds in tears relief.
Such as to weep are fain may still
lament the dead,
Weep not, O sage, ’tis vain to weep the wise have said.
If by our tears we might prevail against the grave,Weep not, O sage, ’tis vain to weep the wise have said.
Thus would we all unite our dearest ones to save.
While Sakka was thus speaking, the ascetic recognising that it was useless to weep, and singing the praises of Sakka, repeated three stanzas 1:
[215]
As ghee-fed flame that blazes out amain
Is quenched with water, so he quenched my pain.
With sorrow's shaft my heart was wounded sore:Is quenched with water, so he quenched my pain.
He healed my wound and did my life restore.
The barb extracted, full of joy and peace,
At Sakka's words I from my sorrow cease.
After thus admonishing the ascetic, Sakka departed to his own place of abode.
Footnotes
141:1 These stanzas are to be found in No. 352 supra, and in No. 410 infra.No. 373.
MŪSIKA-JĀTAKA.
"People cry "Where is she gone," etc.—This story the Master, whilst residing in the Bamboo Grove, told about Ajātasattu. The incident that led to the story has been already fully told in the Thusa Birth. 1 Here too the Master observed the king at the same moment playing with his boy and also listening to the Law. And knowing as he did that danger to the king will arise through his son, he said, "Sire, kings of old suspected what was open to suspicion, and kept their heirs in confinement, saying, "Let them bear rule, after our bodies have been burned on the funeral pyre." And with this he told a story of the past.[216] Now he had at this time a horse, and a sore place appeared on its foot. And in order to give proper attention to the sore the horse was kept to the stable. Now close by was a well. And a mouse used to venture out of its hole and nibble the sore place on the horse's foot. The horse could not stop it, and one day being unable to bear the pain, when the mouse came to bite him, he struck it dead with his hoof and kicked it into the well. The grooms not seeing the mouse said, "On other days the mouse came and bit the sore place, but now it is not to be seen. What has become of it?" The Bodhisatta witnessed the whole thing and said, "Others from not knowing ask, "Where is the mouse?"' But I alone know that the mouse has been killed by the horse, and dropped into the well." And making this very fact an illustration, he composed the first stanza and gave it to the young prince.
Looking about for another illustration, he saw that same horse, when the boil was healed, go out and make his way to a barley field to get some barley to eat, and thrust his head through a hole in the fence, and taking this as an illustration he composed a second stanza and gave it to the
prince. But the third stanza he composed by his own mother-wit and gave this also to him. And be said, "My friend, when you are established in the kingdom, as you go in the evening to the bathing tank, walk as far as the front of the staircase, repeating the first stanza, and as you enter the palace in which you dwell, walk to the foot of the stairs, repeating the second stanza, and as you go thence to the top of the stairs, repeat the third stanza." And with these words he dismissed him.
The young prince returned home and acted as viceroy, and on his father's death he became king. An only son was born to him, and when he was sixteen years old he was eager to be king. And being minded to kill his father, he said to his retainers, "My father is still young. When I come to look upon his funeral pyre I shall be a worn-out old man. What good will it be for me to come to the throne then?" "My lord," they said, "it is out of the question for you to go to the frontier and play the rebel. You must find some way or other to slay your father, and to seize upon his kingdom." [217] He readily agreed, and went in the evening, and took his sword and stood in the king's palace near the bathing tank, prepared to kill his father. The king in the evening sent a female slave called Mūsikā, saying, "Go and cleanse the surface of the tank. I shall take a bath." She went there and while she was cleaning the bath she caught sight of the prince. Fearing that what he was about might be revealed, he cut her in two with his sword and threw the body into the tank. The king came to bathe. Everybody said, "To-day the slave Mūsikā does not return. Where and whither is she gone?" The king went to the edge of the tank, repeating the first stanza:
People cry, "Where is she gone?
Mūsikā, where hast thou fled?"
This is known to me alone:
In the well she lieth dead.
Thought the prince, "My father has found out what I have
done." And being panic-stricken he fled and told everything to his
attendants. After the lapse of seven or eight days, they again addressed him
and said, "My lord, if the king knew he would not be silent. What he said
must have been a mere guess. Put him to death." So one day he stood sword in
hand at the foot of the stairs, and when the king came he was looking about for
an opportunity to strike him. The king came repeating the second stanza:Mūsikā, where hast thou fled?"
This is known to me alone:
In the well she lieth dead.
Like a beast of burden still
Thou dost turn and turn about,
Thou that Mūsikā 1 didst kill,
Fain wouldst Yava 1 eat, I doubt.
Thou dost turn and turn about,
Thou that Mūsikā 1 didst kill,
Fain wouldst Yava 1 eat, I doubt.
[218] Thought the prince, "My father has seen me," and fled in terror. But at the end of a fortnight he thought, "I will kill the king by a blow from a shovel." So he took a spoon-shaped instrument with a long handle and stood poising it. The king climbed to the top of the stair, repeating the third stanza:
Thou art but a weakling fool,
Like a baby with its toy,
Grasping this long spoon-like tool,
I will slay thee, wretched boy.
That day being unable to escape, he grovelled at the king's feet
and said, "Sire, spare my life." The king after rating him had him
bound in chains and cast into prison. And sitting on a magnificent royal seat
shaded by a white parasol, he said, "Our teacher, a far-famed brahmin
foresaw this danger to us, and gave us these three stanzas." And being
highly delighted, in the intensity of his joy he gave forth the rest of the
verses:Like a baby with its toy,
Grasping this long spoon-like tool,
I will slay thee, wretched boy.
I am not free by dwelling in the sky,
Nor by some act of filial piety.
Nay when my life was sought by this my son,
Escape from death through power of verse was won.
Knowledge of every kind he apt to learn,
And what it all may signify discern:
Though thou shouldst use it not, the time will be
When what thou hearest may advantage thee.
[219] By and bye on the death of the king the young prince was
established on the throne.Nor by some act of filial piety.
Nay when my life was sought by this my son,
Escape from death through power of verse was won.
Knowledge of every kind he apt to learn,
And what it all may signify discern:
Though thou shouldst use it not, the time will be
When what thou hearest may advantage thee.
Footnotes
142:1 No. 338 supra.143:1 Mūsikā means mouse, Yava barley.
No. 374.
CULLADHANUGGAHA-JĀTAKA. 1
"Since thou hast gained," etc.—This story was told by the Master whilst living at Jetavana, about the temptation of a Brother by the wife of his unregenerate days. When the Brother confessed that it was owing to the wifethat he had left, that he regretted having taken orders, the Master said, "Not now only, Brother, did this woman do you a mischief. Formerly too it was owing to her that your head was cut off." And at the request of the Brethren he related a story of the past.
sword in his hand and the sheath in that of her husband. The robber grasping the hilt drew out the sword, and cut off the head of the Archer. After slaying her husband he took the woman with him, and as they journeyed together he inquired of her origin. "I am the daughter," she said, "of a world-famed professor at Takkasilā."
"How did he get you for his wife?" he said.
"My father," she said, "was so pleased at his having acquired from him an art equal to his own, that he gave me to him to wife. And because I fell in love with you, I let you kill my lawful husband."
Thought the robber chief, "This woman now has killed her lawful husband. As soon as she sees some other man, she will treat me too after the same sort. I must get rid of her."
And as he went on his way, he saw their path cut off by what was usually a poor little shallow stream, but which was now flooded, and he said, "My dear, there is a savage crocodile in this river. What are we to do?"
"My lord," she said, "take all the ornaments I wear, and make them into a bundle in your upper robe, and carry them to the further side of the river, and then come back and take me across."
"Very well," he said, and took all her adornments, and going down to the stream, like one in great haste, he gained the other bank, and left her and fled.
On seeing this she cried, "My lord, you go as if you were leaving me. Why do you do this? Come back and take me with you." And addressing him she uttered the first stanza:
Since thou hast gained the other side,
With all my goods in bundle tied,
Return as quickly as may be
And carry me across with thee.
The robber, on hearing her, as he stood on the further bank,
repeated the second stanza: 1With all my goods in bundle tied,
Return as quickly as may be
And carry me across with thee.
Thy fancy, lady, ever roves
From well-tried faith to lighter loves,
[222] Me too thou wouldst ere long betray,
Should I not hence flee far away.
But when the robber said, "I will go further hence: you stop
where you are," she screamed aloud, and he fled with all her adornments.
Such was the fate that overtook the poor fool through excess of passion. And
being quite helpless she drew nigh to a clump of cassia plants and sat there
weeping. At that moment Sakka, looking down upon the world, saw her smitten
with desire and weeping for the loss of both husband and lover.From well-tried faith to lighter loves,
[222] Me too thou wouldst ere long betray,
Should I not hence flee far away.
And thinking he would go and rebuke her and put her to shame, he took with him Mātali and Pañcasikha 1, and went and stood on the bank of the river and said, "Mātali, do you become a fish, Pañcasikha, you change into a bird, and I will become a jackal. And taking a piece of meat in my mouth, I will go and place myself in front of this woman, and when you see me there, you, Mātali, are to leap up out of the water, and fall before me, and when I shall drop the piece of meat I have taken in my mouth, and shall spring up to seize the fish, at that moment, you, Pañcasikha, are to pounce upon the piece of meat, and to fly up into the air, and you, Mātali, are to fall into the water."
Thus did Sakka instruct them. And they said, "Good, my lord." Mātali was changed into a fish, Pañcasikha into a bird, and Sakka became a jackal. And taking a piece of meat in his mouth, he went and placed himself in front of the woman. The fish leaping up out of the water fell before the jackal. The jackal dropping the piece of meat he held in his mouth, sprang up to catch the fish. The fish jumped up and fell into the water, and the bird seized the piece of meat and flew up into the air. The jackal thus lost both fish and meat and sat sulkily looking towards the clump of cassia. The woman seeing this said, "Through being too covetous, he got neither flesh nor fish," [223] and, as if she saw the point of the trick, she laughed heartily.
The jackal, on hearing this, uttered the third stanza:
Who makes the cassia thicket ring
With laughter, though none dance or sing,
Or clap their hands, good time to keep?
Fair one, laugh not, when thou shouldst weep.
On hearing this, she repeated the fourth stanza:With laughter, though none dance or sing,
Or clap their hands, good time to keep?
Fair one, laugh not, when thou shouldst weep.
O silly jackal, thou must wish
Thou hadst not lost both flesh and fish.
Poor fool! well mayst thou grieve to see
What comes of thy stupidity.
Then the jackal repeated the fifth stanza:Thou hadst not lost both flesh and fish.
Poor fool! well mayst thou grieve to see
What comes of thy stupidity.
Another's faults are plainly seen,
’Tis hard to see one's own, I ween.
Methinks thou too must count the cost,
When spouse and lover both are lost.
[224] On hearing his words she spoke this stanza:’Tis hard to see one's own, I ween.
Methinks thou too must count the cost,
When spouse and lover both are lost.
King jackal, ’tis just as you say,
So I will hie me far away,
And seek another wedded love
And strive a faithful wife to prove.
So I will hie me far away,
And seek another wedded love
And strive a faithful wife to prove.
Then Sakka, king of heaven, hearing the words of this vicious and unchaste woman, repeated the final stanza:
He that would steal a pot of clay
Would steal a brass one any day:
So she who was her husband's bane
Will be as bad or worse again.
Thus did Sakka put her to shame and brought her to repent, and
then returned to his own abode.Would steal a brass one any day:
So she who was her husband's bane
Will be as bad or worse again.
Footnotes
144:1 See Morris, Folk-Lore Journal, ii. 371, and Tibetan Tales, xii., Susroṇi. Compare also No. 425 infra.146:1 This stanza occurs in No. 318 supra, with which this story may be compared.
147:1 His charioteer and a gandharva.
No. 375.
KAPOTA-JĀTAKA. 1
"I feel quite well," etc.—This story the Master, whilst dwelling at Jetavana, told concerning a greedy Brother. This story of the greedy Brother has already been fully told in divers ways. In this case the Master asked him if he were greedy and on his confessing that it was so, said, "Not now only, but formerly also, Brother, you were greedy, and through greed came by your death." And herewith he told a story of the past.I will now eat fish and meat to my heart's content." And so thinking, he repeated the first stanza:
I feel quite well and at my ease,
Since Mr. Pigeon off is gone.
My cravings I will now appease:
Potherbs and meat should strengthen one.
So when the cook who was roasting the fish and meat came out of
the kitchen, wiping away streams of sweat from his person, the crow hopped out
of his basket and bid himself in a basin of spices. The basin gave forth a
"click" sound, and the cook came in haste, and seizing the crow
pulled out his feathers. And grinding some moist ginger and white mustard he
pounded it with a rotten date, and smeared him all over with it, and rubbing it
on with a potsherd [226] he wounded the bird. Then he fastened the potsherd on
his neck with a string, and threw him back into the basket, and went off.Since Mr. Pigeon off is gone.
My cravings I will now appease:
Potherbs and meat should strengthen one.
When the pigeon came back and saw him he said, "Who is this crane lying in my friend's basket? He is a hot-tempered fellow and will come and kill this stranger." And thus jesting, he spoke the second stanza:
"Child of the Clouds," 1 with tufted crest,
Why didst thou steal my poor friend's nest?
Come here, Sir Crane. My friend the crow
Has a hot temper, you must know.
The crow, on hearing this, uttered the third stanza:Why didst thou steal my poor friend's nest?
Come here, Sir Crane. My friend the crow
Has a hot temper, you must know.
Well mayst thou laugh at such a sight,
For I am in a sorry plight.
The cook has plucked and basted me
With rotten dates and spicery.
The pigeon, still making sport of him, repeated the fourth stanza:For I am in a sorry plight.
The cook has plucked and basted me
With rotten dates and spicery.
Bathed and anointed well, I think,
Thou hast thy fill of food and drink.
Thy neck so bright with jewel sheen,
Hast thou, friend, to Benares been?
Then the crow repeated the fifth stanza:Thou hast thy fill of food and drink.
Thy neck so bright with jewel sheen,
Hast thou, friend, to Benares been?
Let not my friend or bitterest foe
On visit to Benares go.
They plucked me bare and as a jest
Have tied a potsherd on my breast.
[227] The pigeon hearing this repeated the final stanza:On visit to Benares go.
They plucked me bare and as a jest
Have tied a potsherd on my breast.
These evil habits to outgrow
Is hard with such a nature, crow.
Birds should be careful to avoid
The food they see by man enjoyed.
Is hard with such a nature, crow.
Birds should be careful to avoid
The food they see by man enjoyed.
After thus reproving him, the pigeon no longer dwelt there, but spread his wings and flew elsewhere. But the crow died then and there.
Footnotes
148:1 Compare No. 42, vol. i., No. 274, vol. ii.149:1 Cranes are conceived at the sound of thunder-clouds. Cf. Meghadūta 9.
BOOK VI.—CHANIPĀTA.
No. 376.
AVĀRIYA-JĀTAKA.
[228] "Ne’er be angry, etc." The Master told this
tale while dwelling at Jetavana, about a ferryman. This man, they say, was
foolish and ignorant: he knew not the qualities of the Three Jewels and of all
excellent beings: he was hasty, rough and violent. A certain country Brother,
wishing to wait on the Buddha, came one evening to the ferry on the Aciravatī
and said to the ferryman: "Lay-brother, I wish to cross, let me have your
boat." "Sir, it is too late, stay here." "Lay-brother, I
cannot stay here, take me across." The ferryman said angrily, "Come
then, Sir Priest," and took him into the boat: but he steered badly and
made the boat ship water, so that the Brother's robe was wet, and it was dark
before he put him on the farther bank. When the Brother reached the monastery,
he could not wait on the Buddha that day. Next day he went to the Master,
saluted and sat on one side. The Master gave greeting and asked when he had
come. "Yesterday." "Then why do you not wait on me till
to-day?" When he heard his reason, the Master said, "Not now only,
but of old also that man was rough: and he annoyed wise men of old, as he did
you." And when asked he told an old-world tale.of patience and kindness and compassion," and with such daily exhortation he spoke two stanzas:
Ne’er be angry, prince of warriors;
ne’er be angry, lord of earth:
Anger ne’er requite with anger: thus a king is worship-worth.
In the village, in the forest, on the sea or on the shore,Anger ne’er requite with anger: thus a king is worship-worth.
Ne’er be angry, prince of warriors: ’tis my counsel evermore.
So the Bodhisatta spoke these stanzas to the king every day. The king was pleased with him and offered him a village whose revenue was a hundred thousand pieces: but he refused. In this way the Bodhisatta lived for twelve years. Then he thought, "I have stayed too long, I will take a journey through the country and return here": so without telling the king and only saying to the gardener, "Friend, I weary, I will journey in the country and return, pray do you tell the king," [230] he went away and came to a ferry on the Ganges. There a foolish ferryman named Avāriyapitā lived: he understood neither the merits of good men nor his own gain and loss: when folk would cross the Ganges, he first took them across and then asked for his fare; when they gave him none, he quarrelled with them, getting much abuse and blows but little gain, so blind a fool was he.
Concerning him, the Master in his Perfect Wisdom spoke the third stanza:
The father of Avāriya,
His boat's on Ganges wave:
He ferries first the folk across,
And then his fare he'll crave:
And that is why he earns but strife,
A thriftless, luckless, knave!
The Bodhisatta came to this ferryman and said, "Friend, take
me to the other bank." He said, "Priest, what fare will you pay
me?" "Friend, I will tell you how to increase your wealth, your
welfare, and your virtue." The ferryman thought, "He will certainly
give me something," so he took him across and then said, "Pay me the
fare." The Bodhisatta said, "Very well, friend," and so telling
him first how to increase his wealth, he spoke this stanza:His boat's on Ganges wave:
He ferries first the folk across,
And then his fare he'll crave:
And that is why he earns but strife,
A thriftless, luckless, knave!
Ask your fare before the crossing,
never on the further shore:
Different minds have folk you ferry, different after and before.
[231] The ferryman thought, "This will be only his admonition
to me, now he will give me something else": but the Bodhisatta said,
"Friend, you have there the way to increase wealth, now hear the way to
increase welfare and virtue," so he spoke a stanza of admonition:Different minds have folk you ferry, different after and before.
In the village, in the forest, on the
sea, and on the shore,
Ne’er be angry, my good boatman; ’tis my counsel evermore.
Ne’er be angry, my good boatman; ’tis my counsel evermore.
So having told him the way to increase welfare and virtue, he said, "There you have the way to increase welfare, and the way to increase virtue." Then that stupid one, not reckoning his admonition as anything, said, "Priest, is that what you give me as my fare?" "Yes, friend." "I have no use for it, give me something else." "Friend, except that I have nothing else." "Then why did you go on my boat?" he said, and threw the ascetic down on the bank, sitting on his chest and striking his mouth.
The Master said: "So you see that when the ascetic gave this admonition to the king he got the boon of a village, and when he gave the same admonition to a stupid ferryman he got a blow in the mouth: therefore when one gives this admonition it must be given to suitable people, not to unsuitable," and so in his Perfect Wisdom he then spoke a stanza:
For counsel good the king bestowed the
revenue of a town:
The boatman for the same advice has knocked the giver down.
As the man was striking the priest, his wife came with his rice,
and seeing the ascetic, she said, "Husband, this is an ascetic of the
king's court, do not strike him." He was angry, and saying, "You
forbid me to strike this false priest!" he sprang up and struck her down.
The plate of rice fell and broke, and the fruit of her womb miscarried. The
people gathered round him and [232] crying, "Murdering rascal!" they
bound him and brought him to the king. The king tried him and caused him to be
punished.The boatman for the same advice has knocked the giver down.
The Master in his Perfect Wisdom explaining the matter spoke the last stanza:
The rice was spilt, his wife was
struck, child killed before its birth,
To him, like fine gold to a beast, counsel was nothing worth.
To him, like fine gold to a beast, counsel was nothing worth.
No. 377.
SETAKETU-JĀTAKA.
"Friend, be not angry," etc.—The Master told this tale at Jetavana, of a deceitful Brother. The occasion of the story will appear in the Uddāla 1 Birth.Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a far-famed teacher and taught the sacred texts to five hundred pupils. The senior of them, Setaketu by name, was born of a brahmin family from the north, and was very proud on account of his caste. One day he went out of the town with other pupils, and when coming in again he saw a [233] caṇḍāla. "Who are you?" he said. "I am a caṇḍāla." He feared the wind after striking the caṇḍāla's body might touch his own body, so he cried, "Curse you, you ill-omened caṇḍāla, get to leeward," and went quickly to windward, but the caṇḍāla was too quick for him and stood to windward of him. Then he abused and reviled him the more, "Curse you, ill-omened one." The caṇḍāla asked, "Who are you?" "I am a brahmin student." "Very well, if you are, you will be able to answer me a question." "Yes." "If you can't, I will put you between my feet." The brahmin, feeling confident, said, "Proceed." The caṇḍāla, making the company understand the case, asked the question, "Young brahmin, what are the quarters? " "The quarters are four, the East and the rest." The caṇḍāla said, "I am not asking about that kind of quarter: and you, ignorant even of this, loathe the wind that has struck my body," so he took him by the shoulder and forcing him down put him between his feet. The other pupils told their teacher of the affair. He asked, "Young Setaketu, have you been put between a caṇḍāla's feet?" "Yes, teacher: the son of a slave put me between his feet, saying, "He doesn't know even the quarters"; but now I shall know what to do to him," and so he reviled the caṇḍāla angrily. The teacher admonished him: "Young Setaketu, be not angry with him, he is wise; he was asking about another kind of quarter, not this: what you have not seen, or heard, or understood is far more than what you have": and he spoke two stanzas by way of admonition:
Friend, be not angry, anger is not
good:
Wisdom is more than you have seen or heard:
[234] By "quarter" parents may be understood,
And teacher is denoted by the word.
The householder who gives food, clothes and drink,Wisdom is more than you have seen or heard:
[234] By "quarter" parents may be understood,
And teacher is denoted by the word.
Whose doors are open, he a "quarter" is:
And "quarter" in the highest sense, we think,
Is that last state where misery shall be bliss. 1
[235] So the Bodhisatta explained the quarters to the young brahmin: but he thinking, "I was put between a caṇḍāla's feet," left that place and going to Takkasilā learned all the arts from a far-famed teacher. With that teacher's permission he left Takkasilā, and wandered learning all practical arts. Coming to a frontier village he found five hundred ascetics
dwelling near it and was ordained by them. All their arts, texts and practices he learnt, and they accompanied him to Benares. Next day he went to the palace-yard begging. The king, pleased with the ascetics' deportment, gave them food in the palace and lodging in his garden. One day he said, sending them food, "I will salute your reverences this evening in the garden." Setaketu went to the garden and collecting the ascetics, said, "Sirs, the king is coming to-day; now by once conciliating kings a man may live happily all the years of his life, so now some of you do the swinging penance, some lie on thorn-beds, some endure the five fires, some practise the mortification by squatting, some the act of diving, some repeat texts," and after these orders he set himself at the door of the hut on a chair with a head-rest, put a book with a brilliant-coloured wrapping on a painted stand, and explained texts as they were inquired about by four or five intelligent pupils. At that moment the king arrived [236] and seeing them doing these false penances he was delighted: he came up to Setaketu, saluted him and sat on one side: then talking to his family priest he spoke the third stanza:
With uncleansed teeth, and goatskin
garb and hair
All matted, muttering holy words in peace:
Surely no human means to good they spare,
They know the Truth, and they have won Release.
The priest heard this and spoke the fourth stanza:All matted, muttering holy words in peace:
Surely no human means to good they spare,
They know the Truth, and they have won Release.
A learned sage may do ill deeds, O
king:
A learned sage may fail to follow right:
A thousand Vedas will not safety bring,
Failing just works, or save from evil plight.
When the king heard this, he took away his favour from the
ascetics. Setaketu thought: "This king took a liking to the ascetics, but
this priest has destroyed it as if he had cut it with an axe: I must talk to
him": so talking to him he spoke the fifth stanza:A learned sage may fail to follow right:
A thousand Vedas will not safety bring,
Failing just works, or save from evil plight.
[237]
"A learned sage may do ill deeds,
O king:
A learned sage may fail to follow right"
You say: then Vedas are a useless thing:
Just works with self-restraint are requisite.
The priest hearing this, spoke the sixth stanza:A learned sage may fail to follow right"
You say: then Vedas are a useless thing:
Just works with self-restraint are requisite.
Nay, Vedas are not useless utterly:
Though works with self-restraint true doctrine is:
Study of Vedas lifts man's name on high,
But ’tis by conduct that he reaches Bliss.
So the priest refuted Setaketu's doctrine. He made them all
laymen, gave them shields and weapons, and appointed them to be attendants on
theThough works with self-restraint true doctrine is:
Study of Vedas lifts man's name on high,
But ’tis by conduct that he reaches Bliss.
king as Superior Officers: and hence they say comes the race of Superior 1 Officers.
Footnotes
153:1 No. 487, vol. iv.154:1 This rests on fanciful puns on the names of the four quarters.
No. 378.
DARĪMUKHA-JĀTAKA.
[238] "Pleasures of sense," etc.—This tale was told by the Master while dwelling in Jetavana, concerning the Great Renunciation. The incident that led to the story has been told before.festal car for seven days as there was no heir to the throne. This ceremony of the car will be explained in the Mahājanaka Birth. This car left the city and reached the gate of the garden, [239] accompanied by an army of the four divisions and by the music of hundreds of instruments. Darīmukha, hearing the music, thought, "This car is coming for my friend, he will be king to-day and give me the commander's place, but why should I be a layman? I will go away and become an ascetic"; so without a word to the Bodhisatta he went on one side and stood concealed. The priest stayed the car at the gate of the garden, and entering saw the Bodhisatta lying on the royal seat: observing the auspicious marks on his feet, he thought, "He has merit and is worthy to be king even of the four continents with two thousand islands around them, but what is his courage?" So he made all the instruments sound their loudest. The Bodhisatta woke and taking the cloth from his face he saw the multitude: then covering his face again he lay down for a little, and rising when the car stopped sat cross-legged on the seat. The priest resting on his knee said, "Lord, the kingdom falls to you." "Why, is there no heir?" "No, lord." "Then it is well," and so he accepted, and they anointed him there in the garden. In his great glory he forgot Darīmukha. He mounted the car and drove amid the multitude in solemn form round the city: then stopping at the palace-gate he arranged the places of the courtiers and went up to the terrace. At that instant Darīmukha seeing the garden now empty came and sat on the royal seat in the garden. A withered leaf fell before him. In it he came to see the principles of decay and death, grasped the three marks of things, and making the earth re-echo with joy he entered on paccekabodhi. At that instant the characters of a householder vanished from him, a miraculous bowl and frock fell from the sky and clave to his body, at once he had the eight requisites and the perfect deportment of a centenarian monk, [240] and by miracle he flew into the air and went to the cave Nandamūla 1 in the Himālaya.
The Bodhisatta ruled his kingdom with righteousness, but the greatness of his glory infatuated him and for forty years he forgot Darīmukha. In the fortieth year he remembered him, and saying, "I have a friend named Darīmukha; where is he now?" he longed to see him. Thenceforth even in the seraglio and in the assembly he would say, "Where is my friend Darīmukha? I will give great honour to the man who tells me of his abode." Another ten years passed while he remembered Darīmukha from time to time. Darīmukha, though now a paccekabuddha, after fifty years reflected and knew that his friend remembered him: and thinking, "He is now old and increased with sons and daughters, I will go and preach the law to him and ordain him," he went by miracle through
the air, and lighting in the garden he sat like a golden image on the stone seat. The gardener seeing him came up and asked, "Sir, whence come you?" "From the cave Nandamūlaka." "Who are you?" "Friend, I am Darīmukha the pacceka." "Sir, do you know our king?" "Yes, he was my friend in my layman days." "Sir, the king longs to see you, I will tell him of your coming." "Go and do so." He went and told the king that Darīmukha was come and sitting on the stone-seat. The king said, "So my friend is come, I shall see him ": so he mounted his car and with a great retinue went to the garden and saluting the paccekabuddha with kindly greeting he sat on one side. The paccekabuddha said, "Brahmadatta, do you rule your kingdom with righteousness, never follow evil courses or oppress the people for money, and do good deeds with charity?" [241] and after kindly greeting, "Brahmadatta, you are old, it is time for you to renounce pleasures, and be ordained," so he preached the law and spoke the first stanza:
Pleasures of sense are but morass and mire:
The "triply-rooted terror" them I call.
Vapour and dust I have proclaimed them, Sire:
Become a Brother and forsake them all.
[242] Hearing this, the king explaining that he was bound by
desires spoke the second stanza:The "triply-rooted terror" them I call.
Vapour and dust I have proclaimed them, Sire:
Become a Brother and forsake them all.
Infatuate, bound and deeply stained am
I,
Brahmin, with pleasures: fearful they may be,
But I love life, and cannot them deny:
Good works I undertake continually.
[243] Then Darīmukha though the Bodhisatta said, "I cannot be
ordained," did not reject him and exhorted him yet again:Brahmin, with pleasures: fearful they may be,
But I love life, and cannot them deny:
Good works I undertake continually.
He who rejects the counsel of his
friend,
Who pities him, and would avert his doom,
Thinking "this world is better," finds no end,
Foolish, of long rebirths within the womb.
That fearful place of punishment is his,Who pities him, and would avert his doom,
Thinking "this world is better," finds no end,
Foolish, of long rebirths within the womb.
Full of all filth, held evil by the good:
The greedy their desires can ne’er dismiss,
The flesh imprisons all the carnal brood.
[244] So Darīmukha the paccekabuddha showing the misery rising from conception and quickening, to show next the misery of birth spoke a stanza and a half:
Covered with blood and with gross
foulness stained,
All mortal beings issue from the birth:
Whate’er they touch thereafter is ordained
To bring them pain and sorrow on the earth.
I speak what I have seen, not what I hearAll mortal beings issue from the birth:
Whate’er they touch thereafter is ordained
To bring them pain and sorrow on the earth.
From others: I remember times of old.
[245] Now the Master in his Perfect Wisdom said, "So the paccekabuddha helped the king with good words," and at the end spoke the remaining half-stanza:
Darīmukha did to Sumedha's 1 ear
Wisdom in many a stanza sweet unfold.
The paccekabuddha, showing the misery of desires, making his words
understood, said, "O king, be ordained or not, but anyhow I have told the
wretchedness of desires and the blessings of ordination, be thou zealous,"
and so like a golden royal goose he rose in the air, and treading on clouds he
reached the Nandamūlaka cave. The Great Being made on his head the salutations
resplendent with the ten finger-nails put together and bowing down stood till
[246] Darīmukha passed out of sight: then he sent for his eldest son and gave
him the kingdom: and leaving desires, while a great multitude was weeping and
lamenting, he went to the Himālaya and building a hut of leaves he was ordained
as an ascetic: then in no long time he gained the Faculties and Attainments and
at his life's end he went to Brahma's heaven.Wisdom in many a stanza sweet unfold.
Footnotes
156:1 Cf. Hiouen-Thsang's Life, p. 257.156:2 "Cave-mouth": perhaps "very beautiful" should be "very wide".
157:1 This is specially the abode of paccekabuddhas.
Om Tat Sat
(Continued...)
(Continued...)
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