Thursday, January 30, 2014

THE JĀTAKA OR STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS (Book -5) -6














THE JĀTAKA

OR
STORIES OF THE BUDDHA'S FORMER BIRTHS



No. 532.

SONA-NANDA-JĀTAKA.

"Angel or minstrel-god," etc. This was a story told by the Master, while living at Jetavana, about a Brother who supported his mother. The circumstance which led up to it was the same as that related in the Sāma 1 Birth. But on this occasion the Master said, "Brethren, do not take offence at this Brother. Sages of old, though they were offered rule over all India, refused to accept it and supported their parents": and so saying he told a story of the past.

Once upon a time the city of Benares-was known as Brahmavaddhana. At that time a king named Manoja 2 reigned there, and a certain Brahmin magnate, possessed of eighty crores, had no heir, and his Brahmin wife at the bidding of her lord prayed for a son. Then the Bodhisatta passing from the Brahma world was conceived in her womb, and at his birth they called him young Sona. By the time that he could run alone, another Being left the Brahma world and he too was conceived by her, and when he was born they called him young Nanda. As soon as they had been taught the Vedas and had attained proficiency in the liberal arts, the Brahmin, observing how handsome the boys were, addressing his wife said, "Lady, we will unite our son, the youthful Sona, in the bonds of wedlock." She readily assented and reported the matter to her son. [313] He said, "I have quite enough of the household life as it is. So long as you live, I will watch over you, and on your death I will withdraw to the Himalayas and become an ascetic." She repeated this to the Brahmin, and when they had spoken to him again and again but had failed to persuade him, they addressed themselves to the young Nanda, saying, "Dear son, do you set up an establishment." He answered, "I will not pick up what my brother has rejected, as if it were a lump of phlegm 3. I too on your death will together with my brother join the ascetics." The parents thought, "If they, though they are quite young, thus give up the lusts of the flesh, how much more should all of us adopt the ascetic life," and they said, "Dear son,

why talk of becoming ascetics when we are dead? We will all take the vows." And telling their purpose to the king they disposed of all their wealth in the way of charity, making freedmen of their slaves and distributing what was right and proper amongst their kinsfolk, and then all four of them setting forth from the city of Brahmavaddhana, they built them a hermitage in the Himalaya region in a pleasant grove, near a lake covered by the five kinds of lotus, and there they dwelt as ascetics. The two brothers watched over their parents. And early in the morning they bring them pieces of stick to brush their teeth and water to rinse their mouth. They sweep out the hut, cell and all, supply them with water to drink, bring them sweet berries from the wood to eat, provide them with hot or cold water for the bath, dress their matted locks, shampooing their feet and rendering them all similar services. As time thus passed on, the sage Nanda thought, "I shall have to provide all kinds of fruit as food for my father and mother," so whatever ordinary fruit he had gathered on the spot either yesterday or even the day before that 1, he would bring in the early morning and give to his parents to eat. They ate it and after rinsing their mouth they observed a fast. But the wise Sona went a long distance and gathered sweet and ripe fruit and offered it to them. Then they said, "Dear son, we ate early this morning what your younger brother brought us and we are now fasting. We have no need of this fruit now." So his fruit was not eaten but was all wasted, and the next day and so on it was just the same. [314] And thus through his possession of the five Supernatural Faculties he travelled a great distance to fetch fruit, but they refused to eat it. Then the Great Being thought, "My father and mother are very delicate, and Nanda brings all sorts of unripe or half ripe fruit for them to eat, and this being so, they will not live long. I will stop him from doing this." So addressing him he said, "Nanda, henceforth when you bring them fruit, you are to wait 2 till I come, and we will both of us at the same time supply them with food," Though he was thus spoken to, desiring merit for himself only, Nanda paid no heed to his brother's words. The Great Being thought, "Nanda acts improperly in disobeying me: I will send him away 3." Then thinking he would watch over his parents by himself, he said, "Nanda, you are past teaching and pay no heed to the words of the wise. I am the elder. My father and mother are my charge: I alone will watch over them. You cannot stay on here: get you

gone elsewhere," and he snapped his fingers at him. After being thus dismissed, Nanda could no longer remain in his brother's presence, and bidding him farewell he drew nigh to his parents and told them what had happened. Then retiring into his hut of leaves, he fixed his gaze on the mystic circle and that very day he developed the five Supernatural Faculties and the eight Attainments, and he thought, "I can fetch precious sand from the foot of Mount Sineru and sprinkling it in the cell of my brother's hut I can ask his forgiveness, and should he not even so be mollified, I will fetch water from lake Anotatta and ask him to forgive me, and should he not even thus be mollified, supposing my brother should not pardon me for the sake of angelic beings, I would bring the four Great Kings and Sakka and ask his forgiveness, and should he still not be mollified, I would bring the chief king in all India, Manoja, and the rest of the kings and beg him to pardon me. And this being so, the fame of my brother's virtue would be spread throughout India and would be blazed abroad as the sun and moon." Meanwhile by his magic power he alighted in the city of Brahmavaddhana at the door of the king's palace, [315] and sent a message to the king, saying, "A certain ascetic wishes to see you." The king said, "What has an ascetic to do with seeing me? He must have come for some food." He sent him rice, but he would have none of it. Then he sent husked rice and garments and roots, but he would have none of them. At last he sent a messenger to ask why he had come, and in answer to the messenger he said, "I am come to serve the king." The king, on hearing this, sent back word, "I have plenty of servitors, bid him do his duty as an ascetic." On hearing this he said, "By my own power I will get the sovereignty over all India, and bestow it on your king." The king when he heard this thought, "Ascetics, verily, are wise: they certainly know some clever tricks." Then he summoned him to his presence, assigned him a seat and saluting him asked, "Holy sir, will you, as they tell us, gain the rule over all India and grant it to me?" "Yes, sire." "How will you manage it?" "Sire, without shedding the blood of any one, no, not even so much as a tiny fly would drink, and without wasting your treasure, by my own magic power will I gain the sovereignty and make it over to you. Only, without a moment's delay, you must sally forth this very day." The king believed his words and set out, escorted by an army corps. If it was hot for the army, the sage Nanda by his magic created a shade and made it cool. If it rained, he did not allow the rain to fall upon the army. He kept off a hot wind. He did away with stumps and thorns in the road and every kind of danger. He made the road as level as the circle used in the Kasia rite, and spreading a skin he sat cross-legged upon it in the air, and so moved in front of the army. Thus first of all he came with his army to the Kosala kingdom, and, pitching his camp near the city, he sent a message to the king

of Kosala, bidding him either give battle or yield himself to his power. The king was enraged and said, "What then, am I not a king? I will fight you "; and he sallied forth at the head of his forces, [316] and the two armies engaged in battle. The sage Nanda, spreading out wide the antelope skin on which he sat between the two armies, caught up with it all the arrows shot by the combatants on both sides, and in neither army was there a single soldier wounded by a shaft, and, when all the arrows in their possession were spent, both armies stood helpless. And sage Nanda went to the Kosala king and reassured him, saying, "Great king, be not dismayed. There is no danger threatening you: the kingdom shall still be yours. Only submit to king Manoja." He believed what Nanda said and agreed to do so. Then conducting him into the presence of Manoja, Nanda said, "The king of Kosala submits to you, sire: let the kingdom still remain his." Manoja readily assented and receiving his submission, he marched with the two armies to the kingdom of Aga and took Aga, and then he took Magadha in the kingdom of that name, and by these means he made himself master of the kings of all India, and accompanied by them he marched straight back to the city of Brahmavaddhana. Now he was seven years, seven months, and seven days in taking the kingdoms of all these kings, and from each royal city he caused to be brought all manner of food, both hard and soft, and taking the kings, one hundred and one in number, for seven days he held a great carouse with them. The sage Nanda thought, "I will not show myself to the king until he has enjoyed the pleasures of sovereignty for seven days." And going his rounds for alms in the country of the Northern Kurus, he abode for the space of seven days in the Himalayas, at the entrance of the Golden Cave. And Manoja on the seventh day, after contemplating his great majesty and might, bethought him, "This glory was not given me by my father and mother nor by any one else. It originated through the ascetic Nanda and surely it is now seven days since I set eyes on him. Where in the world can be the friend that bestowed on me this glory?" and he called to mind sage Nanda. And he, knowing that he was remembered, came and stood before him in the air. The king thought, "I do not know whether this ascetic is a man or a deity. [317] If he be a man, I will give him the sovereignty over all India, but if he be a divinity, I will pay him the honour due to a god," and to prove him he spoke the first stanza:
Angel or minstrel-god art thou, or do we haply see
Sakka, to cities bountiful, or mortal-born may be,
With magic powers endued? Thy name we fain would learn from thee.
On hearing his words Nanda in declaring his nature repeated a second stanza:
No angel I, no minstrel-god, nor Sakka dost thou see:
A mortal I with magic powers. The truth I tell to thee.

The king, on hearing this, thought, "He says he is a human being; even so he has been useful to me. I will satisfy him with the great honour I pay him," and he said:
Great service thou hast wrought for us, beyond all words to tell,
Midst floods of rain no single drop upon us ever fell.
Cool shade thou didst create for us, when parching winds arose,
From deadly shaft 1 thou didst us shield, amidst our countless foes.

Next many a happy realm thou mad'st own me as sovereign lord,
Over a hundred kings became obedient to our word.

What from our treasures thou shalt choose, we cheerfully resign,
Cars yoked to steeds or elephants, or nymphs attired so fine,
Or if a lovely palace be thy choice, it shall be thine.

In Aga realms or Magadha if thou art fain to live,
Wouldst rule Avanti, Assaka—this too we gladly give.

Yea e’en the half of all our realm we cheerfully resign,
Say but the word, what thou wouldst have, at once it shall be thine.

[318] Hearing this, sage Nanda, explaining his wishes, said:
No kingdom do I crave, nor any town or land,
Nor do I seek to win great riches at thy hand.
"But if thou hast any affection for me," he said, "do my bidding in this one thing."
Beneath thy sovereign sway my aged parents dwell,
Enjoying holy calm in some lone woodland cell.
With these old sages I'm allowed no merit to acquire,
If thou and thine would plead my cause, Sona would cease his ire.

Then the king said to him:
Gladly in this will I perform, O brahmin, thy behest,
But who are they that I should take to further thy request?
[319] The sage Nanda said:
More than a hundred householders, rich brahmins too I name,
And all these mighty warrior chiefs of noble birth and fame,
With king Manoja, are enough to satisfy my claim.
Then the king said:
Go, harness steeds and elephants and yoke them to the car,
Go, fling my banners to the wind, from carriage-pole and bar,
I go to seek where Kosiya 2, the hermit, dwells afar.

Equipped then with his fourfold host the king marched out to seek
Where he did dwell in charming cell, a hermit mild and meek.
These verses were inspired by Perfect Wisdom.

Now on the day on which the king reached the hermitage, the sage Sona reflected: " It is now more than seven years, seven months [320]

and seven days since my young brother went forth from us. Where can he possibly be now?" and looking with the divine eye he saw him and said to himself, "He is coming with a hundred and one kings and an escort of twenty-four legions to beg my pardon. These kings and their retinues have witnessed many marvellous things done by my young brother, and being ignorant of my supernatural power they say of me, "This false ascetic overestimates his power and measures himself with our lord." By such boasting 1 they will become destined to hell. I will give them a specimen of my magic-working powers," and placing a carrying-pole in the air, not touching his shoulder by an interval of four inches, he thus travelled in space, passing close by the king, to fetch water from lake Anotatta. But the sage Nanda, when he saw him coming, had not the courage to show himself, but, disappearing on the spot where he was sitting, he escaped and hid himself in the Himalayas. Howbeit king Manoja, when he saw Sona approaching in the comely guise of an ascetic, spoke this stanza:
Who goes to fetch him water through the air at such a pace,
With wooden pole not touching him by quite four inches space?
The Great Being, being thus addressed, spoke a couple of stanzas:
I'm Sona; from ascetic rule I never go astray
My parents I unweariedly support by night and day.
Berries and roots as food for them I gather in the wood,
Ever recalling to my mind how they once wrought me good.

Hearing this, the king wishing to make friends with him, spoke another stanza:
[321]
We fain would reach the hermitage where Kosiya doth dwell,
Show us the road, good Sona, which will lead us to his cell.
Then the Great Being by his supernatural power created a footpath leading to the hermitage and spoke this stanza:
This is the path: mark well, O king, yon clump of sombre green;
There midst a grove of ebon trees the hermitage is seen.

Thus did the mighty sage instruct these warrior kings, and then
Once more he travelled through the air and hurried home again.
Next having swept the hermitage he sought his sire's retreat,
And waking up the aged saint he offered him a seat.

"Come forth," he cried, "O holy sage, be seated here, I pray,
For high-born kings of mighty fame will pass along this way."

The old man having heard his son his presence thus implore,
Came forth in haste from out his hut and sat him by the door.

These verses were inspired by Perfect Wisdom.

And the sage Nanda came to the king at the very moment when the Bodhisatta reached the hermitage, bringing with him water from Anotatta,

and Nanda pitched their camp not far from the hermitage. Then the king bathed and arrayed himself in all his splendour, and, escorted by one hundred and one kings, he came with the sage Nanda in great state and glory and entered the hermitage, to beg the Bodhisatta to forgive his brother. Then the father of the Bodhisatta, on seeing the king approach them, inquired of the Bodhisatta and he explained the matter to him.

[322] The Master, in making this clear, said:
On seeing him all in a blaze of glory standing near,
Surrounded by a band of kings, thus spoke the aged seer:
Who marches here with tabour, conch, and beat of sounding drums,
Music to cheer the heart of kings? Who here in triumph comes?

Who in this blaze of glory comes, with turban-cloth of gold,
As lightning bright, and quiver-armed, a hero young and bold?

Who comes all bright and glorious, with face of golden sheen,
Like embers of acacia wood, aglow in furnace seen?

Who comes with his umbrella held aloft in such a way,
That it with ribs so clearly marked wards off the sun's fierce ray?

Who is it, with a yak-tail fan stretched forth to guard his side,
Is seen, like some wise sage, on back of elephant to ride?

Who comes in pomp and majesty of parachutes all white,
And mail-clad steeds of noble strain, encircling left and right?

Who hither comes, surrounded by a hundred kings or more,
An escort of right noble kings, behind him and before?

With elephants, with chariots and with horse and foot brigade,
Who comes with all the pomp of war, in fourfold 1 host arrayed?

Who comes with all the legions vast that follow in his train,
Unbroken, limitless as are the billows of the main?

It is Manoja, king of kings, with Nanda here has come,
As though ’twere Indra, lord of heaven, to this our hermit home.

His is the mighty host that comes, obedient in his train,
Unbroken, limitless as are the billows of the main.

[323] The Master said:
In robe of finest silk arrayed, with sandal oil bedewed,
These kings approach the saintly men in suppliant attitude.

Then king Manoja with a salutation took his seat apart, and, exchanging friendly greetings, spoke a couple of stanzas:
O holy men, we trust that you are prosperous and well,
With grain to glean and roots and fruit abundant where you dwell.
Have you been much by flies and gnats and creeping things annoyed,
Or from wild beasts of prey have you immunity enjoyed?


Then these stanzas were spoken by them as question and answer:
We thank thee, king, and answer thus: We prosper and are well,
With grain to glean and roots and fruit abundant where we dwell.
From flies and gnats and creeping things we suffer not annoy,
And from wild beasts of prey we here immunity enjoy.

Areca nuts for such as live as hermits here abound,
No harmful sickness that I know has ever here been found.

Welcome 1, O king, a happy chance directed thee this way,
Mighty thou art and glorious: what errand brings thee, pray?

[324] The tindook and the piyal leaves, and kāsumārī sweet,
And fruits like honey, take the best we have, O king, and eat.

And this cool water from a cave high hidden on a hill,
O mighty monarch, take of it, drink if it be thy will.

Accepted is thy offering by me and all, but pray
Give ear to what wise Nanda here, our friend, has got to say.

For all of us in Nanda's train as suppliants come to thee,
To beg a gracious hearing for poor Nanda's humble plea.

The sage Nanda, thus addressed, rose from his seat and saluted his father and mother and brother, and, conversing with his followers, said:
Let country folk, a hundred odd, and brahmins of great fame,
And all these noble warrior chiefs, illustrious in name,
With king Manoja, our great lord, all sanction this my claim.
Ye Yakkhas in this hermitage that are assembled here,
And woodland spirits, old and young 2, to what I say give ear.

My homage paid to these, I next this holy sage address,
In me a brother thou didst erst as thy right hand possess.

To serve my aged parents is the boon from thee I ask:
Cease, mighty saint, to hinder me in this my holy task.

[325] Kind service to our parents has long time been paid by thee;
The good approve such deeds—why not yield it in turn to me?
And to the merit I thus win the way to heaven is free.

Others there are that know in this the path of duty lies,
It is the way to heaven, as thou, O sage, dost recognise.

And yet a holy man bars me from merit such as this,
When I by service fain would bring my parents perfect bliss.

[326] Thus addressed by Nanda, the Great Being said, "You have heard what he had to say: now hear me," and he spoke these stanzas:
All ye that swell my brother's train, my words now hear in turn;
Whoso shall ancient precedent of his forefathers spurn,
Sinning against his elders, he, reborn in hell, shall burn.
But they who skilled in holy lore the Way of Truth may know,
Keeping the moral law, shall ne’er to World of Suffering go.

Brother and sister, parents, all by kindred tie allied,
A charge upon the eldest son will evermore abide.


As eldest son this heavy charge I gladly undertake,
And as a pilot guards his ship, the Right I'll ne’er forsake.
On hearing this all the kings were highly delighted and said, "To-day we learn that all the rest of a family are a charge laid upon the eldest," and they forsook the sage Nanda and became devoted to the Great Being and, singing his praises, recited two stanzas:
We have found knowledge like a flame that shines at dead of night,
E’en so has holy Kosiya revealed to us the Right.
Just as the sun-god by his rays illumines all the sea,
Showing the form of living things, as good or bad they be,
So holy Kosiya reveals the Right to me and thee.

[327] Thus was it that although these kings had so long a time believed in the sage Nanda, from witnessing his wonderful works, yet did the Great Being by the power of knowledge destroy their faith in him, and, causing them to accept his words, thus make them all his most obedient servants. Then the sage Nanda thinking, "My brother is a wise and clever fellow and mighty in the scriptures. He has got the better of these kings and won them over to his side. Except him I have no other refuge. To him only will I make my supplication; and he spoke this stanza:
Since thou my suppliant attitude heed’st not, nor outstretched hand,
Thy humble bond-slave will I be, to wait -at thy command.
The Great Being naturally entertained no angry or hostile feeling towards Nanda, but he had acted as he did by way of rebuking him, in order to bring down his high stomach, when he spoke so exceeding proudly. But now on hearing what he had to say he was mightily pleased, and conceived a favour towards him, and saying, "Now I forgive you and will allow you to watch over your father and mother," and making known his virtues he said:
Nanda, thou know’st the true faith well, as saints have taught it thee,
"’Tis only noble to be good"—thou greatly pleasest me.
My worthy parents I salute: list ye to what I say,
The charge of you as burden was ne’er felt in any way.

My parents I have tended long, their happiness to earn,
Now Nanda comes and humbly begs to serve you in his turn.

[328] Whiche’er of you two saintly ones would Nanda's service own,
Speak but the word and he shall come to wait on thee alone.

Then his mother, rising from her seat, said, "Dear Sona, your young brother has been long absent from his home. Now that he has at length returned, I do not venture to ask him myself, for we are altogether dependent upon you, but with your sanction I might now be allowed to take this holy youth to my arms and kiss him on the forehead," and, to make her meaning clear, she spoke this stanza:

Sona, dear son, on whom we lean, if thou allowest this,
Embracing him once more I will the holy Nanda kiss.
Then the Great Being said to her, "Well, dear mother, I give you permission: go and embrace your son Nanda and smell and kiss his head, and soothe the sorrow in your heart." So she went to the sage Nanda and embracing him before all the assembly she smelled and kissed his head, putting an end to the sorrow in her heart, and conversing with the Great Being she spoke this verse:
Just as the tender bo-tree shoot is shaken by the blast,
So throbs my heart with joy at sight of Nanda come at last.
Nanda, methinks, as in a dream returned I seem to see,
Half mad and jubilant I cry, "Nanda comes back to me."

But if on waking I should find my Nanda gone away,
To greater sorrow than before my soul would be a prey.

[329] Back to his parents dear to-day Nanda at last has come,
Dear to my lord and me alike, with us he makes his home.

Though Nanda to his sire is dear, let him stay where he will,
—Thou to thy father's wants attend—Nanda shall mine fulfil.

The Great Being assented to his mother's words, saying, "So be it," and he admonished his brother, saying, "Nanda, you have received the portion of the eldest son; verily a mother is a great benefactress. Be careful in watching over her," and celebrating a mother's virtues he spoke two stanzas:
Kind, pitiful, our refuge she that fed us at her breast,
A mother is the way to heaven, and thee she loveth best.
She nursed and fostered us with care; graced with good gifts is she,
A mother is the way to heaven, and best she loveth thee.

Thus did the Great Being in two stanzas tell of a mother's virtues, and when his mother had once more taken her seat, he said, "You, Nanda, have got a mother who has suffered things hard to be borne. Both of us have been painfully reared by our mother. Now, you are carefully to watch over her and not to give her sour berries to eat," and to make it clear in the midst of the assembled people that deeds of great difficulty fell to a mother's lot, he said:
[330]
Craving a child in prayer she kneels each holy shrine before,
The changing seasons closely scans and studies astral lore.
Pregnant in course of time she feels her tender longings grow,
And soon the unconscious babe begins a loving friend to know.

Her treasure for a year or less she guards with utmost care,
Then brings it forth and from that day a mother's name will bear.

With milky breast and lullaby she soothes the fretting child,
Wrapped in his comforter's warm arms his woes are soon beguiled.

Watching o’er him, poor innocent, lest wind or heat annoy,
His fostering nurse she may be called, to cherish thus her boy.

What gear his sire and mother have she hoards for him, "May be,"
She thinks, "some day, my dearest child, it all may come to thee."


"Do this or that, my darling boy," the worried mother cries,
And when he's grown to man's estate, she still laments and sighs.
He goes in reckless mood to see a neighbour's wife at night,
She fumes and frets, "Why will he not return while it is light?"
If one thus reared with anxious pains his mother should neglect,
Playing her false, what doom, I pray, but hell can he expect?

If one thus reared with anxious pains his father should neglect,
Playing him false, what doom, I pray, but hell can he expect?

Those that love wealth o’ermuch, ’tis said, their wealth will soon have lost,
One that neglects a mother soon will rue it to his cost.

Those that love wealth o’ermuch, ’tis said, their wealth will soon have lost,
One that neglects a father soon will rue it to his cost.

Joy, careless ease, laughter and sport, are the sure heritage
Of him that studiously shall tend a mother in old age.

Joy, careless ease, laughter and sport, are the sure heritage
Of him that studiously shall tend a father in old age.

Gifts 1, loving speech, kind offices, together with the grace
Of calm indifference of mind shown in due time and place—

These virtues to the world are as linch-pin to chariot wheel,
These lacking, still a mother's name to children would appeal.

[331] A mother like the sire should be with reverent honour crowned,
Sages approve the man in whom these virtues may be found.

Thus parents, worthy of all praise, a high position own,
By ancient sages Brahma called. So great was their renown.

Kind parents from their children should receive all reverence due,
He that is wise will honour them with service good and true.

He should provide them food and drink, bedding and raiment meet,
Should bathe them and anoint with oil and duly wash their feet.

For filial services like these sages his praises sound
Here in this world, and after death in heaven his joys abound.

[332] Thus, as though he should set Mount Sineru rolling, did the Great Being bring his lesson to an end. On hearing him all these kings with their hosts became believers. So then establishing them in the five moral laws and exhorting them to be diligent in almsgiving and the like virtues, he dismissed them, and they all, after ruling their kingdoms righteously, at the end of their days went to swell the host of heaven. The sages, Sona and Nanda, as long as they lived, ministered to their parents and became destined to the Brahma world.

The Master here ended his lesson and revealing the Truths identified the Birth:—At the end of the Truths the Brother who cherished his mother was established in the fruition of the First Path:—"At that time the parents were members of the Great King's Court, the sage Nanda was Ānanda, king Manoja was Sāriputta, the hundred and one kings were eighty chief elders and certain others, the twenty-four complete armies were Buddha's disciples, but the sage Sona was I myself."

Footnotes

164:1 Vol. VI. No. 540.
164:2 Manoja Jātaka, vol. III. No. 397.
164:3 Reading khea.
165:1 The text is probably corrupt; perhaps parāha is concealed in para(m)aho. Cf. pare, Jāt. II. 279. 2, III. 423. 18, "the day before yesterday," but in Jāt. IV. 481. 25 it seems to mean "the day after to-morrow," peren-die. Cognate words bearing this double meaning are found both in Hindí and Bengálí.
165:2 patimāneti, to wait for. Cf. Morris, P. T. S. J. 1884, Jāt. I. 258. 17, II. 288. 14, IV. 203. 27, Mil. I. 14 (S. B. E.).
165:3 paāmeti to dismiss. Cf. Morris, P. T. S. J. for 1884, Mil. I. 258, Cullavagga, XII. 2. 3, Jāt. II. 28. 15.
168:1 Reading sarattāam.
168:2 The family name of Sona and his father.
169:1 vambheti, see Morris, P. T. S. J. for 1884, p. 95.
170:1 Elephants, cavalry, chariots and infantry.
171:1 These lines occur in No. 503, Sattigumba Jātaka, vol. IV. p. 270, English version.
171:2 bhūtabhavyāni, fully developed and embryo deities: for bhavya, a class of gods, cf. Vishu Purāa, III. 12.
174:1 Childers gives the four Sagahavatthus, appertaining to kings, as largesse, affability, beneficent rule, and impartiality.


BOOK XXI. ASĪTINIPĀTA.

No. 533.

CULLAHASA-JĀTAKA. 1

[333] "All other birds, etc." This was a story told by the Master, while dwelling in the Bamboo Grove, as to how the venerable Ānanda renounced his life. For when archers were suborned to slay the Tathāgata, and the first one that was sent by Devadatta 2 on this errand returned and said, "Holy sir, I cannot deprive the Blessed One of life: he is possessed of great supernatural powers," Devadatta replied, "Well, sir, you need not slay the ascetic Gotama. I myself will deprive him of life." And as the Tathāgata was walking in the shadow cast westward 3 by the Vulture's Peak, Devadatta climbed to the top of the mountain and hurled a mighty stone as if shot from a catapult, thinking, "With this stone will I slay the ascetic Gotama," but two mountain peaks meeting together intercepted the stone, and a splinter from it flew up and struck the Blessed One on the foot and drew blood, and severe pains set in. Jīvaka, cutting open the Tathāgata's foot with a knife, let out the bad blood and removed the proud flesh, and anointing the wound with a medicament healed it. The Master moved about just as he was wont aforetime, surrounded by his attendants, with all the great charm of a Buddha. So on seeing him Devadatta thought, "Verily no mortal beholding the excellent beauty of Gotama's person dare approach him, but the king's elephant Nāāgiri is a fierce and [334] savage animal and knows nothing of the virtues of the Buddha, the Law, and the Assembly. He will bring about the destruction of the ascetic." So he went and told the matter to the king. The king readily fell in with the suggestion, and, summoning his elephant-keeper, thus addressed him; "Sir, to-morrow you are to make Nāāgiri mad with drink, and at break of day to let him loose in the street where the ascetic Gotama walks." And Devadatta asked the keeper how much arrack the elephant was wont to drink on ordinary days, and when he answered, "Eight pots," he said, "To-morrow give him sixteen pots to drink, and send him in the direction of the street frequented by the ascetic Gotama." "Very good," said the keeper. The king had a drum beaten throughout the city and proclaimed, "To-morrow Nāāgiri will be maddened with strong drink and let loose in the city. The men of the city are to do all that they have to do in the early morning and after that no one is to venture out into the street." And Devadatta came down

from the palace and went to the elephant-stall and, addressing the keepers, said, "We are able, I tell you, from a high position to degrade a man to a lowly one and to raise a man from a low position to a high one. If you are eager for honour, early to-morrow morning give Nāāgiri sixteen pots of fiery liquor, and at the time when the ascetic Gotama comes that way, wound the elephant with spiked goads, and when in his fury he has broken down his stall, drive him in the direction of the street where Gotama is wont to walk, and so bring about the destruction of the ascetic." They readily agreed to do so. This rumour was noised abroad throughout the whole city. The lay disciples attached to the Buddha, the Law, and the Priesthood, on hearing it, drew nigh to the Master and said, "Holy sir, Devadatta has been closeted with the king and to-morrow he will have Nāāgiri let loose in the street where you walk. Do not go into the city to-morrow for alms but remain here. We will provide food in the monastery for the priests, with Buddha at their head." The Master without directly saying, "I will not enter the city to-morrow for alms," answered and said, "Tomorrow I will work a miracle and tame Nāāgiri and crush the heretics. And without going my round for alms in Rājagaha I will leave the city, attended by a company of the Brethren, and go straight to the Bamboo Grove, and the people of Rājagaha shall repair thither with many a bowl of food and to-morrow there shall be a meal provided in the refectory of the monastery." In this way did the Master grant their request. And on learning that the Tathāgata had acceded to their wishes, they set out from the city, carrying bowls of food, and saying, "We will distribute our gifts in the monastery itself." And the Master in the first watch taught the Law, in the middle watch he solved hard questions, in the first part of the last watch he lay down lion-like on his right side, and the second part [335] he spent in the Attainment of Fruition, in the third part, entering into a trance of deep pity for the sufferings of humanity, he contemplated all his kinsfolk that were ripe for conversion 1 and seeing that as the result of his conquest of Nāāgiri eighty-four thousand beings would be brought to a clear understanding of the Law, at daybreak, after attending to his bodily necessities, he addressed Ānanda and said, "Ānanda, to-day bid all the Brethren that are in the eighteen monasteries that are round about Rājagaha to accompany me into that city." The elder did so, and all the Brethren assembled at the Bamboo Grove. The Master attended by a great company of Brethren entered Rājagaha and the elephant-keepers proceeded according to their instructions and there was a great gathering of people. The believers thought, "To-day there will be a mighty battle between the lord elephant Buddha and this elephant of the brute world. We shall witness the defeat of Nāāgiri by the incomparable skill of the Buddha," and they climbed up and stood upon the upper storeys and roofs and house-tops. But the unbelieving heretics thought, "Nāāgiri is a fierce, savage creature, and knows nothing of the merits of Buddhas and the like. To-day he will crush the glorious form of the ascetic Gotama and bring about his death. To-day we shall look upon the back of our enemy." And they took their stand on upper storeys and other high places. And the elephant, on seeing the Blessed One approach him, terrified the people by demolishing the houses and raising his trunk he crushed the waggons into powder, and, with his ears and tail erect with excitement, he ran like some towering mountain in the direction of the Blessed One. On seeing him the Brethren thus addressed the Blessed One, "This Nāāgiri, holy sir, a fierce and savage creature, and a slayer of men, is coming along this road 2. Of a truth he knows nothing of the merit of Buddhas and the like. Let the Blessed One, the Auspicious One, withdraw." "Fear not, Brethren," he said, "I am able to overcome Nāāgiri." Then the venerable Sāriputta prayed the Master, saying, "Holy sir, when any service has to be rendered to a father, it is a burden laid on his eldest son. I will vanquish this creature." Then the Master said, "Sāriputta, the power of a Buddha is one thing, that of his disciples is another," and he rejected his offer,

saying, "You are to remain here." This too was the prayer of the eighty chief elders for the most part, but he refused them all. Then the venerable Ānanda by reason of his strong affection for the Master was unable to acquiesce in this and cried, "Let this elephant kill me first," and he stood before the Master, ready to sacrifice his life for the Tathāgata. So the Master said to him, "Go away, Ānanda, do not stand in front of me." The elder said, "Holy sir, this elephant [336] is fierce and savage, a slayer of men, like the flame at the beginning of a cycle. Let him first slay me and afterwards let him approach you." And though he was spoken to for the third time, the elder remained in the same spot and did not retire. Then the Blessed One by the exercise of his supernatural power made him fall back and placed him in the midst of the Brethren. At this moment a certain woman, catching sight of Nāāgiri, was terrified with the fear of death, and as she fled she dropped the child, which she was carrying on her hip, between the Tathāgata and the elephant and made her escape. The elephant, pursuing the woman, came up with the child, who uttered a loud cry. The Master thrilling with the charity that is expressly commanded 1, and, uttering the honeyed accents of a voice like that of Brahma, called to Nāāgiri, saying, "Ho! Nāāgiri, those that maddened you with sixteen pots of arrack did not do this that you might attack someone else, but acted thus thinking you would attack me. Do not tire out your strength by rushing about aimlessly but come hither." On hearing the voice of the Master he opened his eyes and beheld the glorious form of the Blessed One, and he became greatly agitated and by the power of Buddha the intoxicating effects of the strong drink passed off. Dropping his trunk and shaking his ears he came and fell down at the feet of the Tathāgata. Then the Master addressing him said, Nāāgiri, you are a brute elephant, I am the Buddha elephant. Henceforth be not fierce and savage, nor a slayer of men, but cultivate thoughts of charity." So saying he stretched forth his right hand and coaxed the elephant's forehead and taught the Law to him in these words:
 2 This elephant shouldst thou presume to assail,
An awful doom thou wouldst erelong bewail.
To strike this elephant would destine thee
To state of suffering in worlds to be.
From mad and foolish recklessness abstain,
The reckless fool to heaven will ne’er attain.
If in the next world thou wouldst win heaven's bliss,
See that thou doest what is right in this.

  The whole body of the elephant constantly thrilled with joy, and had he not been a mere quadruped, he would have entered on the fruition of the First Path. The people, on beholding this miracle, shouted and snapped their fingers. In their joy they cast upon him all manner of ornaments and covered therewith all the body of the elephant. [337] Thenceforth Nāāgiri was known as Dhanapālaka (keeper of treasure).—Now on the occasion of this encounter with Dhanapālaka eighty-four thousand beings drank the nectar of immortality.—And the Master established Dhanapālaka in the five moral laws. With his trunk taking up dust from the feet of the Blessed One the elephant sprinkled it on his head, and retiring with bent body he stood bowing to the Dasabala as long as he was in sight, and then he turned and entered the elephant-stall. Thenceforth he was quite tame and harmed no man. The Master, now that his desire was fulfilled, decided that the treasure should remain the property of those by whom it had been thrown upon the elephant and thinking, "To-day I have wrought a great miracle. It is not seemly that I should go my rounds for alms in this city," and after crushing the heretics, surrounded by a band of the Brethren, he sallied forth from the city like a victorious warrior chief and made

straight for the Bamboo Grove. The citizens, taking with them a quantity of boiled rice, drink, and some solid food, went to the monastery and set on foot almsgiving on a grand scale. That day at eventide, as they sat filling the Hall of Truth, the Brethren started a topic, saying, "The venerable Ānanda achieved a marvellous thing in being ready to sacrifice his life for the sake of the Tathāgata. On seeing Nāāgiri, though he was thrice forbidden by the Master to remain, he refused to go away. O sirs, of a truth the elder was the doer of a marvellous deed." The Master, thinking, "The conversation turns on the merits of Ānanda, I must be present at it," went forth from his Perfumed Chamber and came and asked them, saying, "On what subject are ye discoursing, Brethren, as ye sit here?" And when they answered, "On such and such a topic," he said, "Not now only, but formerly too, Ānanda, even when he was born in an animal form, renounced his life for my sake," and so saying he told a story of the past.

Once upon a time in the kingdom of Mahisaka in the city of Sakua a king named Sakua ruled his kingdom righteously. At that time not far from the city a certain fowler in a village of fowlers got his living by snaring birds and selling them in the city. Near that city was a lotus-lake called Mānusiya, twelve leagues in circumference, covered with five varieties of lotus. Thither repaired a flock of all manner of birds and the fowler set his snares there freely. At this time the king of the Dhataraṭṭha geese, with a following of ninety-six thousand geese, dwelt in Golden Cave on mount Cittakūa and his commander-in-chief was named Sumukha. Now one day a flock [338] composed of some golden geese came to the lake Mānusiya, and, after browsing to their heart's content in this abundant feeding ground, they flew up to the beautiful Cittakūa and thus addressed the Dhataraṭṭha king: "Sire, there is a lotus-lake called Mānusiya, a rich feeding ground lying midst the haunts of men. Thither we will go to feed." He answered, "The haunts of men are dangerous: let not this approve itself to you." And though he declined to go, yet being importuned he said, "If it be your good pleasure, we will go," and with his following he repaired to that lake. Alighting from the air he set his foot in a noose at the very moment he touched the ground. So the noose seized his foot as it were with an iron vice and caught and held him fast. Then thinking to sever the snare he tugged at it, and first the skin was broken, next the flesh was torn, and lastly the tendon, till the snare touched the bone and the blood flowed and severe pains set in. He thought, "If I should utter a cry of capture, my kinsfolk would be alarmed and without feeding would fly away famished and through weakness they would fall into the water." So he bore with the pain and when his kinsfolk had eaten their fill and were disporting themselves after the manner of geese, he uttered the loud cry of a captured bird. On hearing it these geese were frightened with the fear of death and flew off in the direction of Cittakūa. As soon as they were gone, Sumukha, the captain of the geese, thought, "Can it be that this means something terrible has happened to the Great King?
  I will find out what it is," and flying at full speed, and not seeing the Great Being amongst those in the van of the retreating army of geese, he sought him in the main body of the birds and there too failing to find him he said, "Without all doubt something terrible has occurred," [339] and he turned back and found the Great Being caught in a snare, stained with blood and suffering great pain, lying on the muddy ground, And he alighted and sat on the ground and trying to comfort the Great Being he said, "Fear not, sire: I will release you from the snare at the sacrifice of my own life."
Then to test him the Great Being spoke the first stanza:
All other birds, heedless of me, have fled in haste away;
What friendship can a captive know? Be off, make no delay.
Here moreover followed these stanzas 1:
Whether I go or stay with thee, I still some day must die:
I've courted thee in weal, in woe from thee I may not fly.
I either then must die with thee, or live a life forlorn,
Far better ’twere to die at once than live thy loss to mourn.

It is not right to leave thee, sire, in such a sorry state;
Nay, I am well content to share whate’er may be thy fate.

What fate for one caught in a snare except the cruel spit?
How in thy senses and still free couldst thou to this submit?

What good for thee or me, O bird, herein dost thou descry,
Or for the kin surviving us, if both of us should die?

Wrapt, golden-wingèd one, in night will be thy deed of worth;
What moral would such sacrifice, if brought to light, show forth?

That blessings follow Right, O king of birds, dost thou not see?
Right duly honoured shows to men what their true good may be.

[340] Seeing the Right and all the Good that still from Right may spring,
For love of thee I cheerfully my life away would fling.

If mindful of the Right one ne’er forsakes a suffering friend,
Not e’en to save one's life, such act as Right the wise commend.

Thy duty nobly done, the while I recognise thy love,
Depart at once, if thou wouldst do the thing I most approve.

Perhaps in time the ties that bound my kin beneath my sway,
With fuller knowledge and control may pass to thee some day.

As thus these noble birds exchanged high thoughts, to them, behold,
Like Death to some bedridden wretch appeared this fowler bold.

The friends in him discerning well the enemy they fear,
Long silent sat and motionless, as he to them drew near.

Seeing the geese rise here and there and vanish into space,
Their foe, where sat these noble birds, in haste approached the place.

And as he ran with utmost speed and reached the fated spot,
The fowler, trembling at the thought, cried, "Are they caught or not?"

The one he saw caught in the snare, the other bird he found
Watching his captive friend, himself unfettered and unbound.


Perplexed and doubting in his mind he viewed the noble pair,
—Full grown were they, two comely birds—and thus he spake them fair.
Granted that one caught in a snare may never fly away 1,
Why, mighty bird, dost thou, still free, resolve with him to stay?

What is this fowl to thee, that when the rest are fled and gone,
Though free, beside the captive bird thou sittest here alone?

 20 foe of birds, my friend and king, dear as my life is he;
Forsake him—no, I never will, until Death calls for me.

[341] How was it that this bird ne’er spied the fowler's secret snare?
Of mighty chiefs the function is of danger to be ware.

 3When ruin comes upon a man and Death's hour draweth nigh,
Though you may close upon it come, nor trap nor snare you spy.

Snares of all kinds, O holy ones, are ofttimes set in vain:
In fatal hour at last one's caught in hidden snare and slain.

[342] Thus did he by discoursing with him soften the fowler's heart, and begging for the life of the Great Being he spoke this stanza:
[343]
Is this the happy issue 4, say, of friendly talk with thee,
And wilt thou, prithee, spare our lives and let us both go free?
The fowler, charmed by Sumukha's sweet discourse, spoke this stanza:
No prisoner of mine art thou; begone, quick, hence away;
I would not shed thy blood; unscathed, live on for many a day.
Then Sumukha repeated four stanzas:
I should not care to live myself, if this my friend were dead,
Content with one, let him go free, and eat my flesh instead.
We two are much the same in age, in length and breadth of limb;
No loss for thee, if thou shouldst take me in exchange for him.

Regard it in this light and glut thy appetite on me;
First bind me in the snare, then let this king of birds go free.

Thus thou wouldst gain thy wish and I my heart's desire secure,
And peace would be ’twixt geese and thee, long as life should endure.

Thus by the preaching of the Law was this fowler's heart softened, even as cotton dipped in oil, and in yielding up the Great Being to him, as a slave to his owner, he said:
Be witness all your sages, friends, servants, and kith and kin,
Through thee alone this king of birds his liberty did win.
To few ’tis given to own a friend like thee prepared to share
A common fate, as when thy king was caught in deadly snare.

So I release thy friend the king, to follow thee afar,
Quick, hence away, amidst thy kin to shine fair as a star.


[344] And so saying, the fowler with kindness in his heart drew nigh to the Great Being, and cutting his bonds took him up in his arms and lifting him out of the water laid him on the bank of the lake upon the fresh grass, and with great tenderness gently loosing the snare that bound his foot threw it to a distance. Then conceiving a strong affection for the Great Being, with a heart full of love he took some water and washed away the blood from his wound, and once and again wiped it. Through the power of his charity the wound in the Bodhisatta's foot grew together, tendon uniting with tendon, flesh with flesh, skin with skin. Fresh skin formed and fresh down grew over it. The Bodhisatta was just as if his foot had never been trapped and sat rejoicing in his ordinary form. Then Sumukha, beholding how happy the Great Being was all owing to his action, in his gladness sang the praises of the fowler.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:
The goose glad at the king's release, in honour of his lord,
Thus charmed his benefactor's ear with this most pleasant word:
"Fowler, with all thy kith and kin, right happy mayst thou be,
As I am happy to behold the king of birds set free."


After thus singing the fowler's praises, Sumukha said to the Bodhisatta, "Sire, this man has wrought us a great service: had he not hearkened to our words, he might have won great wealth, either by making us tame birds to be kept for pleasure and offering us to some great lords, or by killing and selling us for food. But utterly regardless of his own livelihood he hearkened to our words. [345] Let us conduct him into the king's presence and make him happy for life." The Great Being agreed to this. Then Sumukha, after conversing with the Great Being in their own language, addressed the fowler in human speech and asked him, saying, "Friend, why did you set snares?" and on his replying, "For gain," "This being the case," said Sumukha, "take us with you into the city and present us to your king, and I will persuade him to bestow on you great riches," and he spoke these stanzas:
Come, I will teach thee how thou mayst win for thyself great gain,
Seeing the honour of this goose brooks not the slightest stain.
Quick, take us to the royal court, in body sound and whole,
Standing, unbound, at either end of this thy carrying-pole.

And say, "O sire, lo! here to thee two ruddy geese we bring,
The one is captain of the host, the other is their king."

This lord of men beholding then this royal goose will be
So glad and overjoyed, he will great wealth bestow on thee.


When he had so spoken, the fowler replied, "Let it not be your pleasure to see the king. Verily kings are fickle-minded: they would either keep you captive for their amusement or would put you to death." Sumukha said, "Fear not, my friend. By my preaching of the Law I have softened the heart of a fierce creature like you and have brought you to my feet, a fowler whose hand is red with blood. Kings, verily, are full of goodness and wisdom, and are such as can discern between good and evil words. So make haste and bring us into the presence of your king." The fowler said, "Well, be not angry with me. As it is your good pleasure, [346] I will take you to him." So he mounted the pair of birds on his pole and went to the court and introduced them to the king, and on being questioned by him the fowler declared all the facts of the case.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:
On hearing this he wrought the thing they craved in heart and soul,
And quickly took the geese to court, in body sound and whole,
Standing, unbound, one at each end of his long carrying-pole.
"Lo! here," he said, "two ruddy geese, O sire, to thee we bring,
One is the captain of the host, the other is their king."

How did these wingèd mighty ones, fowler, become thy prey,
How didst thou creep close up to them, nor frighten them away?

O lord of men, in every pool behold a gin or net,
In every  1haunt of birds, methinks, a deadly snare was set.

'Twas in some hidden trap like this I caught the king of geese,
His friend, still free, sat by his side and sought his lord's release.

This bird essayed a task beyond what vulgar souls achieve,
Resolved his every nerve to strain, his master to relieve.

There sat he, worthy to survive, content his life to give,
If but his lord, whose praise he sang, might be allowed to live.

Hearing his words I all at once attained to state of grace,
Gladly set free the captive bird and bade them leave the place.

The goose, rejoiced at his release, in honour of his lord,
Thus charmed his benefactor's ear with this most pleasant word:

"Fowler, with all thy kith and kin, right happy mayst thou be,
As I am happy to behold the king of birds set free.

Come, I will teach thee how thou mayst win for thyself great gain,
Seeing the honour of this goose brooks not the slightest stain.

Quick, take us to the royal court, in body sound and whole,
Standing, unbound, at either end of this thy carrying-pole.

And say, "O sire, lo! here to thee two ruddy geese we bring,
The one is captain of the host, the other is their king."

This lord of men, beholding then this royal goose will be
So glad and overjoyed, he will great wealth bestow on thee."


[347]
Thus at his bidding hither led by me the pair have come,
Although for me they both were free to seek their mountain home.
Such was the fate of this poor bird, though very righteous he,
So much that he with pity moved a fowler fierce like me.

This goose, O lord of men, to thee an offering bring I here,
Amidst the haunts of fowling men one scarce could find his peer.


[348] Thus did he standing there proclaim the virtues of Sumukha. Then the king Sakua offered to the goose-king a costly throne and to Sumukha a precious golden chair, and when they had taken their seats he served them with parched corn, honey, molasses, and the like, in golden vessels, and, when they had finished their meal, with outstretched hands he prayed the Great Being to preach the Law and took his seat upon a golden chair. And at his request the goose-king held pleasant converse with him.

The Master, to make everything clear, said:
Seeing the king now seated on a lovely golden chair,
The goose in tones to charm the ear thus did bespeak him fair.
Dost thou, my lord, enjoy good health and is all well with thee?
I trust thy realm is flourishing and ruled in equity.

O king of geese, my health is good and all is well with me;
My realm is very flourishing and ruled in equity.

Hast thou true men to counsel thee, free from all stain or blame,
Ready to die, if need there be, for thy good cause and name?

I have true men to counsel me, free from all stain or blame,
Ready to die, if need there be, for my good cause and name.

Hast thou a wife of equal birth, obedient, kind in word,
With children blest, good looks, fair name, compliant with her lord?

I have a wife of equal birth, obedient, kind in word,
With children blest, good looks, fair name, compliant with her lord.


[349] When the Bodhisatta had ended his words of friendly greeting, the king again conversing with him said:
When some mischance delivered thee to thy most deadly foe,
Didst thou then at his hands, O bird, great suffering undergo?
Did he run up and with his stick belabour thee, I pray?
Of such vile creatures, as I hear, this ever is the way.

I never was in danger, as I gratefully recall,
Nor did he deal with us as foes in any way at all.

The fowler, trembling and amazed, to question us was fain,
And Sumukha, wisest of birds, made answer back again.

Hearing his words he all at once attained to state of grace,
Gladly released me from the snare, and bade us leave the place.


To come and visit thee, O king, was Sumukha's desire,
Thinking our friend the fowler thus great riches might acquire.
You are right welcome, sirs, be sure, I'm glad to see you here,
And let your fowler friend receive his fill of earthly gear.

[350] And so saying the king fixed his gaze upon a certain councillor and when he asked, "What is your pleasure, sire," he said, "See that this fowler has his hair and beard trimmed and that after being washed and anointed he is sumptuously arrayed and then bring him here." And when this was done and the fowler was brought back, the king presented him with a village producing annually a hundred thousand pieces of money, and moreover a house standing in a position abutting on two streets, and a splendid chariot, and much store of yellow gold.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:
The king with riches manifold the fowler amply blest,
And then in tones that charmed the ear the ruddy goose addressed.

Then the Great Being instructed the king in the Law, and hearing his exposition he was glad at heart, and, being minded to pay some mark of respect to the preacher of the Law, he presented him with the white umbrella and made over his kingdom to him and he spoke these stanzas:
Whate’er I lawfully possess, whate’er I duly claim,
Shall pass beneath your sway, if ye your heart's desire will name.
Whether for alms or to enjoy and use it for your own,
To you I yield my gear and all, to you resign my throne.

Then the Great Being returned the white umbrella which the king had given to him. And the king thought, "I have heard the Law preached by the goose-king, but this Sumukha has been highly praised by the fowler, as speaking words sweet as honey, [351] I shall have to hear him also preach the Law." So holding converse with him he spake yet another stanza:
If wise and learned Sumukha would speak of his free will
A word or two, my happiness would then be greater still.
Then Sumukha said:
I could not in your presence, with propriety, my lord,
As though I were some Nāga prince, utter a single word.
For this the chief of ruddy geese, and thou, O mighty king,
On many grounds may rightly claim the homages that I bring.

I a mere underling, my lord, may scarcely intervene,
When high debate is being held your Majesties between.


The king, hearing what he said, was glad at heart and said, "The fowler praised you, and surely there cannot be any other like you, so sweet a preacher of the Law," and he repeated these stanzas:
The fowler rightly praised this bird as wise beyond its kind:
Such prudence is not found in one undisciplined 1 in mind.
Of noble creatures I have seen, with highest nature blest,
Surely this matchless bird amongst them all is far the best 2.

Your noble form and sweet discourse cast o’er me such a spell,
My only wish is that you both long time with me may dwell.

[352] Then the Great Being in praise of the king said:
Thou hast dealt with us as a man deals with his dearest friend:
Such was the kindness, Sir, thou didst to us poor birds extend.
Yet a great void the circle of our kin has to deplore,
And many a bird is sorely grieved to see our face no more.

To drive away their sorrow thou, O king, hast set us free,
So humbly taking leave we fly our friends once more to see.

I'm very glad acquaintance with your Highness to have made,
Henceforth, I trust, my friends may have less cause to be afraid.

When he had thus spoken the king suffered them to depart. And the Great Being declared to the king the misery attending the five kinds of vice and the blessing that followed virtue, and exhorted him, saying, "Keep the moral law and rule your kingdom righteously, and win the hearts of your people with the four modes of conciliation 3," and forthwith he set out for Cittakūa.

[353] The Master, to make the matter clear, said:
Thus to the lord of mortals spake the Dhataraṭṭha king,
Then sought these geese their kith and kin with utmost speed of wing.
Seeing their chiefs all safe and sound returned from haunts of men,
The wingèd flock with noisy cries welcomed them back again.

Thus circling round their lord in whom they trust, these ruddy geese
Paid all due honour to their king, rejoiced at his release.


While thus escorting their king these geese asked him, saying, "How, sire, did you escape?" The Great Being told them of his escape by the help of Sumukha, and of the action of the Sakua king and the fowler. On hearing this the flock of geese in their joy sang their praises, saying, "Long live Sumukha, captain of our host, and the Sakua king and the fowler. May they be happy and free from sorrow."


The Master, to make the matter clear, repeated a final stanza:
Thus all whose hearts are full of love succeed in what they do,
E’en as these geese back to their friends once more in safety flew.
[354] The Master here ended his story, saying, "Brethren, not now only, but of old also, Ānanda for my sake renounced his life," and he identified the Birth: "At that time Channa was the fowler, Sāriputta the king, Ānanda Sumukha, the followers of Buddha the ninety thousand geese, and I myself was the goose-king."

Footnotes

175:1 Compare with this Hasa-Jātaka, vol. IV. No. 502, and Jātaka-Mālā, XXII. The Story of the Holy Swans.
175:2 For the story of Devadatta, cf. Cullavagga, VII.
175:3 In the corresponding passage in Cullavagga, VII.. 3. 8, pacchāyāyam (Skt pra-cchāya) is read instead of pacchāchāyāya.
176:1 With bodhaneyya one may perhaps compare the of ο σωζμενοι of the N.
176:2 racchā, Skt rathyā, a carriage road or street. Jāt. I. 346. 18.
177:1 odissakamettā. Cf. Jāt. II. 61. 9, II. 146. 13.
177:2 These verses occur in Cullavagga, VII. 3. 12.
179:1 In the form of a dialogue between the captive goose-king and his faithful friend Sumukha. Afterwards the fowler intervenes.
180:1 kurute disam, to fly away. Text desam, scholiast disam, as required by the metre.
180:2 This couplet occurs in IV. p. 265, English version.
180:3 This couplet occurs three times before. See note on vol. IV. p. 265, English version.
180:4 sukhudraya, Jāt. IV. 451. 17, V. 389. 3, dukkhudraya IV. 398. 9, kaukudraya V. 241. 14.
182:1 Reading yam yad āyatanam.
185:1 akatatta, Skt akitātnian, cf. VI. 296. 1.
185:2 uttamasattava, "best of beings," sattava=satta, i.e. sattva.
185:3 sagahavatthu, see p. 174.







Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 
 

(My humble salutations to Sreeman Professor E B Cowell ji, H T Francis ji  and Robert Alexandri Neil for the collection)




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