Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 190. Sīlānisaṁsa-Jātaka
No. 190.
SĪLĀNISAṀSA-JĀTAKA.
[111] "Behold the fruit of sacrifice," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
staying in Jetavana, about a believing layman. This was a faithful, pious soul,
an elect disciple. One evening, on his way to Jetavana, he came to the hank of
the river Aciravatī, when the ferrymen had pulled up their boat on the shore in
order to attend service; as no boat could be seen at the landing-stage, and our
friend's mind being full of delightful thoughts of the Buddha, he walked into
the river 1. His feet did not sink below the water. He got as far as mid-river
walking as though he were on dry land; but there he noticed the waves. Then his
ecstasy subsided, and his feet began to sink. Again he strung himself up to high
tension, and walked on over the water. So he arrived at Jetavana, greeted the
Master, and took a seat on one side. The Master entered into conversation with
him pleasantly. "I hope, good layman," said he, "you had no mishap on your way."
"Oh, Sir," he replied, "on my way I was so absorbed in thoughts of the Buddha
that I set foot upon the river; but I walked over it as though it had been dry
ground!" "Ah, friend layman," said the Master, "you are not the only one who has
kept safe by remembering the virtues of the Buddha. In olden days pious laymen
have been shipwrecked in mid-ocean, and saved themselves by remembering the
Buddha's virtues." Then, at the man's request, he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, in the days when Kassapa was Supreme Buddha, a disciple, who
had entered on the Paths, took passage on board ship in company with a barber of
some considerable property. The barber's wife had given him in charge of our
friend, to look after him in better and in worse.
A week later, the ship was wrecked in mid-ocean. These two persons
p. 78
clinging to one plank were cast up on an island. There the barber killed some
birds, and cooked them, offering a share of his meal to the lay brother. "No,
thank you," said he, "I have had enough." He was thinking to himself, "In this
place there is no help for us except the Three Jewels 1," and so he pondered
upon the blessings of the Three Jewels. As he pondered and pondered, a
Serpent-king who had been born in that isle changed his own body to the shape of
a great ship. The ship was filled with the seven kinds of precious things. [112]
A Spirit of the Sea was the helmsman. The three masts were made of sapphire, the
anchor 2 of gold, the ropes of silver, and the planks were golden.
The Sea-spirit stood on board, crying--"Any passengers for India?" The lay
brother said, "Yes, that's where we are bound for." "In with you then--on board
with you! "He went aboard, and wanted to call his friend the barber. "You may
come," says the helmsman, "but not he." "Why not?" "He is not a man of holy
life, that's why," said the other; "I brought this ship for you, not for him."
"Very well:--the gifts I have given, the virtues I have practised, the powers I
have developed--I give him the fruit of all of them!" "I thank you, master!"
said the barber. "Now," said the Sea-spirit, "I can take you aboard." So he
conveyed them both oversea, and sailed upstream to Benares. There, by his power,
he created a store of wealth for both of them, and bespoke them thus.
"Keep company with the wise and good. If this barber had not been in company
with this pious layman, he would have perished in the midst of the deep." Then
he uttered these verses in praise of good company:
"Behold the fruit of sacrifice, virtue, and piety:
A serpent in ship-shape conveys the good man o'er the sea.
"Make friendship only with the good, and keep good company;
Friends with the good, this Barber could his home in safety see."
[113] Thus did the Spirit of the Sea hold forth, poised in mid-air. Finally he
went to his own abode, taking the Serpent-king along with him.
_____________________________
The Master, after finishing this discourse, declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the pious layman entered on the
Fruit of the Second Path:--"On that occasion the converted lay brother attained
Nirvana; Sāriputta was the Serpent-king, and the Sea-spirit was I myself."
Footnotes
77:1 The resemblance to St Peter on the Sea of Galilee is striking.
78:1 The Three Jewels are Buddha, the Law, the Order. For the seven precious
things (or jewels), see Childers, p. 402 b.
78:2 lakāro or laṅkūro. I do not know what the word means. Prof. Cowell suggests
"anchor," the Mod. Persian for which is langar.
Next: No. 191. Ruhaka-Jātaka
Showing posts with label Dukanipata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dukanipata. Show all posts
Monday, May 16, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Sihacamma Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 189. Sīhacamma-Jātaka
p. 76
No. 189.
SĪHACAMMA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Nor lion, nor tiger I see," etc.--This story, like the last, was about
Kokālika, told by the Master in Jetavana. This time he wanted to intone. The
Master. on hearing of it told the following story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a farmer's family, and when he grew up ḥe got a livelihood by tillage.
At the same time there was a Merchant who used to go about hawking goods, which
a donkey carried for him. Wherever he went, he used to take his bundle off the
ass, and throw a lionskin over him, [110] and then turn him loose in the rice
and barley fields. When the watchmen saw this creature, they imagined him to be
a lion, and so durst not come near him.
One day this hawker stopped at a certain village, and while he was getting his
own breakfast cooked, he turned the ass loose in a barley field with the
lionskin on. The watchmen thought it was a lion, and durst not come near, but
fled home and gave the alarm. All the villagers armed themselves, and hurried to
the field, shouting and blowing on conchs and beating drums. The ass was
frightened out of his wits, and gave a hee-haw! Then the Bodhisatta, seeing that
it was a donkey, repeated the first stanza:
"Nor lion nor tiger I see,
Not even a leopard is he:
But a donkey--the wretched old hack!
With a lionskin over his back!"
As soon as the villagers learnt that it was only an ass, they cudgelled him till
they broke his bones, and then went off with the lionskin. When the Merchant
appeared, and found that his ass had come to grief, he repeated the second
stanza:--
"The donkey, if he had been wise,
Might long the green barley have eaten;
A lionskin was his disguise:
But he gave a hee-haw, and got beaten!"
p. 77
As he was in the act of uttering these words, the ass expired. The Merchant left
him, and went his way.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"At that time
Kokālika was the ass, and the wise farmer was I myself."
Footnotes
76:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, pp. 14 and 39; Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories,
p. v. This is Aesop's Ass in the Lion's Skin.
Next: No. 190. Sīlānisaṁsa-Jātaka
p. 76
No. 189.
SĪHACAMMA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Nor lion, nor tiger I see," etc.--This story, like the last, was about
Kokālika, told by the Master in Jetavana. This time he wanted to intone. The
Master. on hearing of it told the following story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a farmer's family, and when he grew up ḥe got a livelihood by tillage.
At the same time there was a Merchant who used to go about hawking goods, which
a donkey carried for him. Wherever he went, he used to take his bundle off the
ass, and throw a lionskin over him, [110] and then turn him loose in the rice
and barley fields. When the watchmen saw this creature, they imagined him to be
a lion, and so durst not come near him.
One day this hawker stopped at a certain village, and while he was getting his
own breakfast cooked, he turned the ass loose in a barley field with the
lionskin on. The watchmen thought it was a lion, and durst not come near, but
fled home and gave the alarm. All the villagers armed themselves, and hurried to
the field, shouting and blowing on conchs and beating drums. The ass was
frightened out of his wits, and gave a hee-haw! Then the Bodhisatta, seeing that
it was a donkey, repeated the first stanza:
"Nor lion nor tiger I see,
Not even a leopard is he:
But a donkey--the wretched old hack!
With a lionskin over his back!"
As soon as the villagers learnt that it was only an ass, they cudgelled him till
they broke his bones, and then went off with the lionskin. When the Merchant
appeared, and found that his ass had come to grief, he repeated the second
stanza:--
"The donkey, if he had been wise,
Might long the green barley have eaten;
A lionskin was his disguise:
But he gave a hee-haw, and got beaten!"
p. 77
As he was in the act of uttering these words, the ass expired. The Merchant left
him, and went his way.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"At that time
Kokālika was the ass, and the wise farmer was I myself."
Footnotes
76:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, pp. 14 and 39; Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories,
p. v. This is Aesop's Ass in the Lion's Skin.
Next: No. 190. Sīlānisaṁsa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Sihakotthuka Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 188. Sīhakoṭṭhuka-Jātaka
p. 75
No. 188.
SĪHAKOṬṬHUKA-JĀTAKA.
"Lion's claws and lion's paws," etc.--This is a story told by the Master whilst
at Jetavana, about Kokālika. They say that Kokālika one day hearing a number of
wise Brethren preaching, desired to preach himself; all the rest is like the
circumstances given in a previous tale 1. This time again the Master on hearing
of it said, "Not this once only has Kokālika been shown up for what he was worth
by means of his own voice; the very same thing happened before." And he told a
story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was a Lion
in the Himalaya mountains, and he had a cub by a she jackal who mated with him.
The cub was just like his sire in toes, claws, mane, colour, figure--all these;
but in voice he was like his dam.
One day, after a shower of rain, all the Lions were gambolling together and
roaring; the cub thought he would like to roar too, and yelped like a jackal. On
hearing which all the Lions fell silent at once! Another cub of the same sire,
own brother of this one, heard the sound, and said, "Father, yon lion is like us
in colour and everything except in voice. Who's he?" in asking which question he
repeated the first stanza:
"Lion's claws and lion's paws,
Lion's feet to stand upon;
But the bellow of this fellow
Sounds not like a lion's son!"
[109] In answer the Bodhisatta said, "It's your brother, the Jackal's cub; like
me in form, but in voice like his dam." Then he gave a word of advice to the
other cub--"My dear son, as long as you live here keep a quiet tongue in your
head. If you give tongue again, they'll all find out that you are a Jackal." To
drive the advice home he repeated the second stanza:--
"All will see what kind you be
If you yelp as once before;
So don't try it, but keep quiet:
Yours is not a lion's roar."
After this advice the creature never again so much as tried to roar.
_____________________________
When the Master had finished this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In those
days Kokālika was the Jackal, Rahula was the brother cub, and the king of beasts
was I myself."
Footnotes
75:1 No. 172; compare no. 189. Kokālika is often alluded to in this way; cp.
nos. 117, 481. There is a story in the Cullavagga i. 18. 3, turning on a similar
point; a hen has a chick by a crow, and when it would city cock-a-doodle-doo it
caws, and vice versa (Vinaya Texts, S. B. E., ii. p. 362).
Next: No. 189. Sīhacamma-Jātaka
p. 75
No. 188.
SĪHAKOṬṬHUKA-JĀTAKA.
"Lion's claws and lion's paws," etc.--This is a story told by the Master whilst
at Jetavana, about Kokālika. They say that Kokālika one day hearing a number of
wise Brethren preaching, desired to preach himself; all the rest is like the
circumstances given in a previous tale 1. This time again the Master on hearing
of it said, "Not this once only has Kokālika been shown up for what he was worth
by means of his own voice; the very same thing happened before." And he told a
story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was a Lion
in the Himalaya mountains, and he had a cub by a she jackal who mated with him.
The cub was just like his sire in toes, claws, mane, colour, figure--all these;
but in voice he was like his dam.
One day, after a shower of rain, all the Lions were gambolling together and
roaring; the cub thought he would like to roar too, and yelped like a jackal. On
hearing which all the Lions fell silent at once! Another cub of the same sire,
own brother of this one, heard the sound, and said, "Father, yon lion is like us
in colour and everything except in voice. Who's he?" in asking which question he
repeated the first stanza:
"Lion's claws and lion's paws,
Lion's feet to stand upon;
But the bellow of this fellow
Sounds not like a lion's son!"
[109] In answer the Bodhisatta said, "It's your brother, the Jackal's cub; like
me in form, but in voice like his dam." Then he gave a word of advice to the
other cub--"My dear son, as long as you live here keep a quiet tongue in your
head. If you give tongue again, they'll all find out that you are a Jackal." To
drive the advice home he repeated the second stanza:--
"All will see what kind you be
If you yelp as once before;
So don't try it, but keep quiet:
Yours is not a lion's roar."
After this advice the creature never again so much as tried to roar.
_____________________________
When the Master had finished this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In those
days Kokālika was the Jackal, Rahula was the brother cub, and the king of beasts
was I myself."
Footnotes
75:1 No. 172; compare no. 189. Kokālika is often alluded to in this way; cp.
nos. 117, 481. There is a story in the Cullavagga i. 18. 3, turning on a similar
point; a hen has a chick by a crow, and when it would city cock-a-doodle-doo it
caws, and vice versa (Vinaya Texts, S. B. E., ii. p. 362).
Next: No. 189. Sīhacamma-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Catumatta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 187. Catumaṭṭa-Jātaka
No. 187.
CATUMAṬṬA-JĀTAKA.
"Sit and sing," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at Jetavana,
about an old Brother. Once, we are told, two of the chief disciples were sitting
together, questioning and answering; when up came au old Brother, and
p. 74
made a third. [107] Taking a seat, he said, "I have a question too, Sirs, which
I should like to ask you: and if you have any difficulty, you may put it to me."
The Elders were disgusted; they rose up and left him. The congregation who
listened to the discourse of the Elders, after the meeting broke up, came to the
Master; he asked what brought them there untimely and they told him what had
happened. He replied, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that Sāriputta and
Moggallāna have been disgusted with this man, and left him without a word; it
was just the same in olden days." And he proceeded to tell a story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta became a
tree-sprite that lived in a forest. Two young Geese flew down from Mount
Cittakūṭa and perched upon this tree. They flew about in search of food,
returned thither again, and after resting flew back to their mountain home. As
time went on and on, the sprite struck up a friendship with them. Coming and
going, they were great friends, and used to talk of religion to one another
before they parted.
It happened one day as the birds sat on the treetop, talking with the
Bodhisatta, that a Jackal, halting at the foot of the tree, addressed the young
Geese in the words of the following stanza:
"Sit and sing upon the tree
If in private you would be.
Sit upon the ground, and sing
Verses to the beasts' own king!"
Filled with disgust, the young Geese took wing and flew back to Cittakūṭa. When
they were gone, the Bodhisatta repeated the second stanza for the Jackal's
benefit:--
"Fairwing here to fairwing sings,
God to god sweet converse brings;
Perfect beauty 1, you must then
Back into your hole again!"
_____________________________
[108] When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In
those times the old man was the Jackal, Sāriputta and Moggallāna the two young
Geese, and I myself was the tree-sprite."
Footnotes
74:1 Lit. 'lovely in four points,' i.e. as the schol. explains 'in form, in
birth, in voice, in quality': said sarcastically.
Next: No. 188. Sīhakoṭṭhuka-Jātaka
No. 187.
CATUMAṬṬA-JĀTAKA.
"Sit and sing," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at Jetavana,
about an old Brother. Once, we are told, two of the chief disciples were sitting
together, questioning and answering; when up came au old Brother, and
p. 74
made a third. [107] Taking a seat, he said, "I have a question too, Sirs, which
I should like to ask you: and if you have any difficulty, you may put it to me."
The Elders were disgusted; they rose up and left him. The congregation who
listened to the discourse of the Elders, after the meeting broke up, came to the
Master; he asked what brought them there untimely and they told him what had
happened. He replied, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that Sāriputta and
Moggallāna have been disgusted with this man, and left him without a word; it
was just the same in olden days." And he proceeded to tell a story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta became a
tree-sprite that lived in a forest. Two young Geese flew down from Mount
Cittakūṭa and perched upon this tree. They flew about in search of food,
returned thither again, and after resting flew back to their mountain home. As
time went on and on, the sprite struck up a friendship with them. Coming and
going, they were great friends, and used to talk of religion to one another
before they parted.
It happened one day as the birds sat on the treetop, talking with the
Bodhisatta, that a Jackal, halting at the foot of the tree, addressed the young
Geese in the words of the following stanza:
"Sit and sing upon the tree
If in private you would be.
Sit upon the ground, and sing
Verses to the beasts' own king!"
Filled with disgust, the young Geese took wing and flew back to Cittakūṭa. When
they were gone, the Bodhisatta repeated the second stanza for the Jackal's
benefit:--
"Fairwing here to fairwing sings,
God to god sweet converse brings;
Perfect beauty 1, you must then
Back into your hole again!"
_____________________________
[108] When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In
those times the old man was the Jackal, Sāriputta and Moggallāna the two young
Geese, and I myself was the tree-sprite."
Footnotes
74:1 Lit. 'lovely in four points,' i.e. as the schol. explains 'in form, in
birth, in voice, in quality': said sarcastically.
Next: No. 188. Sīhakoṭṭhuka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Dadhi-Vahana Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 186. Dadhi-Vāhana-Jātaka
No. 186.
DADHI-VĀHANA-JĀTAKA 3.
"Sweet was once the mango's savour," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
dwelling in Jetavana, on the subject of keeping bad company. The circumstances
were the same as above. Again the Master said: "Brethren, bad
p. 70
company is evil and injurious; why should one talk of the evil effects of had
company on human beings? In days long gone by, even a vegetable, a mango tree,
whose sweet fruit was a dish fit for the gods, turned sour and bitter through
the influence of a noisome and bitter nimb tree." Then he told a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, four brahmins,
brothers, of the land of Kāsi, left the world and became hermits; they built
themselves four huts in a row in the highlands of the Himalaya, and there they
lived.
The eldest brother died, and was born as Sakka. Knowing who he had been, he used
to visit the others every seven or eight days, and lend them a helping hand.
One day, he visited the eldest of the anchorites, and after the usual greeting,
took his seat to one side. [102] "Well, Sir, how can I serve you?" he enquired.
The hermit, who was suffering from jaundice, replied, "Fire is what I want."
Sakka gave him a razor-axe. (A razor-axe is so called because it serves as razor
or as axe according as you fit it into the handle.) "Why," said the hermit, "who
is there to get me firewood with this?" "If you want a fire, Sir," replied
Sakka, "all you have to do is to strike your hand upon the axe, and say--'Fetch
wood and make a fire!' The axe will fetch the wood and make you the fire."
After giving him this razor-axe he next visited the second brother, and asked
him the same question--"How can I serve you, Sir?" Now there was an elephant
track by his hut, and the creatures annoyed him. So he told Sakka that he was
annoyed by elephants, and wanted them to be driven away. Sakka gave him a drum.
"If you beat upon this side, Sir," he explained, "your enemies will run away;
but if you strike the other, they will become your firm friends, and will
encompass you with an army in fourfold array." Then he handed him the drum.
Lastly he made a visit to the youngest, and asked as before how he could serve
him. He too had jaundice, and what he said was--"Please give me some curds."
Sakka gave him a milk-bowl, with these words: "Turn this over if you want
anything, and a great river will pour out of it, and will flood the whole place,
and it will be able even to win a kingdom for you." With these words he
departed.
After this the axe used to make fire for the eldest brother, the second used to
beat upon one side of his drum and drive the elephants away, and the youngest
had his curds to eat.
About this time a ẉild boar, that lived in a ruined village, lit upon a gem
possessed of magic power. Picking up the gem in his mouth, he rose in the air by
its magic. From afar he could see an isle in mid-ocean, and there he resolved to
live. So descending he chose a pleasant spot beneath a mango tree, [103] and
there he made his abode.
p. 71
One day he fell asleep under the tree, with the jewel lying in front of him. Now
a certain man from the Kāsi country, who had been turned out of doors by his
parents as a ne’er-do-well, had made his way to a seaport, where he embarked on
shipboard as a sailors' drudge. In mid-sea the ship was wrecked, and he floated
upon a plank to this island. As he wandered in search of fruit, he espied our
boar fast asleep. Quietly he crept up, seized the gem, and found himself by
magic rising through the air! He alighted on the mango tree, and pondered. "The
magic of this gem," thought he, "has taught yon boar to be a sky-walker; that's
how he got here, I suppose. Well! I must kill him and make a meal of him first;
and then I'll be off." So he snapt off a twig, dropping it upon the boar's head.
The boar woke up, and seeing no gem, ran trembling up and down. The man up in
the tree laughed. The boar looked up, and seeing him ran his head against the
tree, and killed himself.
The man came down, lit a fire, cooked the boar and made a meal. Then he rose up
in the sky, and set out on his journey.
As he passed over the Himalaya, he saw the hermits' settlement. So he descended,
and spent two or three days in the eldest brother's hut, entertaining and
entertained, and he found out the virtue of the axe. He made up his mind to get
it for himself. So he showed our hermit the virtue of his gem, and offered to
exchange it for the axe. The hermit longed to be able to pass through mid-air 1,
and struck the bargain. The man took the axe, and departed; but before he had
gone very far, he struck upon it, and said--"Axe! smash that hermit's skull and
bring the gem to me!" Off flew the axe, clove the hermit's skull, and brought
the gem back.
Then the man hid the axe away, and paid a visit to the second brother. [104]
With him the visitor stayed a few days, and soon discovered the power of his
drum. Then he exchanged his gem for the drum, as before, and as before made the
axe cleave the owner's skull. After this he went on to the youngest of the three
hermits, found out the power of the milk-bowl, gave his jewel in exchange for
it, and as before sent his axe to cleave the man's skull. Thus he was now owner
of jewel, axe, drum, and milk-bowl, all four.
He now rose up and past through the air. Stopping hard by Benares, he wrote a
letter which he sent by a messenger's hands, that the king must either fight him
or yield. On receipt of this message the king sallied forth to "seize the
scoundrel." But he beat on one side of his drum, and was promptly surrounded by
an army in fourfold array. When he saw that the king had deployed his forces, he
then overturned the milk-bowl, and a great river poured forth; multitudes were
drowned
p. 72
in the river of curds. Next he struck upon his axe. "Fetch me the king's head!"
cried he; away went the axe, and came back and dropt the head at his feet. Not a
man could raise hand against him.
So encompassed by a mighty host, he entered the city, and caused himself to be
anointed king under the title of king Dadhi-vāhana, or Carried-on-the-Curds, and
ruled righteously.
One day, as the king was amusing himself by casting a net into the river, he
caught a mango fruit, fit for the gods, which had floated down from Lake
Kaṇṇamuṇḍa. When the net was hauled out, the mango was found, and shown to the
king. It was a huge fruit, as big as a basin, round, and golden in colour. The
king asked what the fruit was: Mango, said the foresters. He ate it, and had the
stone planted in his park, and watered with milk-water.
The tree sprouted up, and in three years it bore fruit. Great was the worship
paid to this tree; milk-water was poured about it; perfumed garlands with five
sprays 1 were hung upon it; wreaths were festooned about it; a lamp was kept
burning, and fed with scented oil; and all round it was a screen of cloth. The
fruit was sweet, and had the colour of fine gold. King Dadhi-vāhana, before
sending presents of these mangoes to other kings, [105] used to prick with a
thorn that place in the stone where the sprout would come from, for fear of
their growing the like by planting it. When they ate the fruit, they used to
plant the stone; but they could not get it to take root. They enquired the
reason, and learnt how the matter was.
One king asked his gardener whether he could spoil the flavour of this fruit,
and turn it bitter on the tree. Yes, the man said he could; so his king gave him
a thousand pieces and sent him on his errand.
So soon as he had arrived in Benares, the man ṣent a message to the king that a
gardener was come. The king admitted him to the presence. After the man had
saluted him, the king asked, "You are a gardener?" "Yes, Sire," said the man,
and began to sound his own praises. "Very well," said the king, "you may go and
assist my park-keeper." So after that these used both to look after the royal
grounds.
The new comer managed to make the park look more beautiful by forcing flowers
and fruit out of their season. This pleased the king,
p. 73
so that he dismissed the former keeper and gave the park into sole charge of the
new one. No sooner had this man got the park into his own hands than he planted
nimbs and creepers about the choice mango tree. By and by the nimbs sprouted up.
Above and below, root with root, and branch with branch, these were all
entangled with the mango tree. Thus this tree, with its sweet fruit, grew bitter
as the bitter-leaved nimb by the company of this noxious and sour plant. As soon
as the gardener knew that the fruit had gone bitter, he took to his heels.
King Dadhi-vāhana went a-walking in his pleasaunce, and took a bite of the mango
fruit. The juice in his mouth tasted like a nasty nimb; swallow it he could not,
so he coughed and spat it out. Now at that time the Bodhisatta was his temporal
and spiritual counsellor. The king turned to him. "Wise Sir, this tree is as
carefully cared for as ever, and yet its fruit has gone bitter. What's the
meaning of it?" and asking this question, he repeated the first stanza:--[106]
"Sweet was once the mango's savour, sweet its scent, its colour gold:
What has caused this bitter flavour? for we tend it as of old."
The Bodhisatta explained the reason in the second stanza:--
"Round about the trunk entwining, branch with branch, and root with root,
See the bitter creeper climbing; that is what has spoilt your fruit;
And so you see bad company will make the better follow suit."
On hearing this the Bodhisatta caused all the nimbs and creepers to be removed,
and their roots pulled up; the noxious soil was all taken away, and sweet earth
put in its place; and the tree was carefully fed with sweet water, milk-water,
scented water. Then by absorbing all this sweetness its fruit grew sweet again.
The king put his former gardener in charge of the park, and after his life was
done passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"In those days
I was the wise counsellor."
Footnotes
69:3 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, pp. 1 and 20; Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories,
p. xvi. This tale belongs to the same group as Grimm no. 36, The Wishing Table,
the Gold-Ass, and the Cudgel in the Sack: no. 54, The Knapsack, the Hat and the
Horn to which see the bibliographical note in Hunt's edition.
71:1 This was one of the supernatural powers much coveted by Buddhists.
72:1 The meaning of gandhapañcaṅgulikaṁ is uncertain. Perhaps a garland in which
sprouts or twigs were arranged radiating like the fingers of a hand. See Morris
in J. P. T. S., 1884, ṣ. v. See vol. i. p. 71 for a different rendering; but
there gandhena pañcaṅgulikaṁ datvā seems rather to mean "making five-finger
wreaths with scent." The spread hand is in many places a symbol used to avert
the evil eye. In some villages of India it is marked on the house walls (North
Ind. N. and Q., i. 42); it is carved on Phoenician tombstones (see those in the
Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris); and I have seen it in all parts of Syria, on
the houses of Jews, Christians, and Moslems.
Next: No. 187. Catumaṭṭa-Jātaka
No. 186.
DADHI-VĀHANA-JĀTAKA 3.
"Sweet was once the mango's savour," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
dwelling in Jetavana, on the subject of keeping bad company. The circumstances
were the same as above. Again the Master said: "Brethren, bad
p. 70
company is evil and injurious; why should one talk of the evil effects of had
company on human beings? In days long gone by, even a vegetable, a mango tree,
whose sweet fruit was a dish fit for the gods, turned sour and bitter through
the influence of a noisome and bitter nimb tree." Then he told a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, four brahmins,
brothers, of the land of Kāsi, left the world and became hermits; they built
themselves four huts in a row in the highlands of the Himalaya, and there they
lived.
The eldest brother died, and was born as Sakka. Knowing who he had been, he used
to visit the others every seven or eight days, and lend them a helping hand.
One day, he visited the eldest of the anchorites, and after the usual greeting,
took his seat to one side. [102] "Well, Sir, how can I serve you?" he enquired.
The hermit, who was suffering from jaundice, replied, "Fire is what I want."
Sakka gave him a razor-axe. (A razor-axe is so called because it serves as razor
or as axe according as you fit it into the handle.) "Why," said the hermit, "who
is there to get me firewood with this?" "If you want a fire, Sir," replied
Sakka, "all you have to do is to strike your hand upon the axe, and say--'Fetch
wood and make a fire!' The axe will fetch the wood and make you the fire."
After giving him this razor-axe he next visited the second brother, and asked
him the same question--"How can I serve you, Sir?" Now there was an elephant
track by his hut, and the creatures annoyed him. So he told Sakka that he was
annoyed by elephants, and wanted them to be driven away. Sakka gave him a drum.
"If you beat upon this side, Sir," he explained, "your enemies will run away;
but if you strike the other, they will become your firm friends, and will
encompass you with an army in fourfold array." Then he handed him the drum.
Lastly he made a visit to the youngest, and asked as before how he could serve
him. He too had jaundice, and what he said was--"Please give me some curds."
Sakka gave him a milk-bowl, with these words: "Turn this over if you want
anything, and a great river will pour out of it, and will flood the whole place,
and it will be able even to win a kingdom for you." With these words he
departed.
After this the axe used to make fire for the eldest brother, the second used to
beat upon one side of his drum and drive the elephants away, and the youngest
had his curds to eat.
About this time a ẉild boar, that lived in a ruined village, lit upon a gem
possessed of magic power. Picking up the gem in his mouth, he rose in the air by
its magic. From afar he could see an isle in mid-ocean, and there he resolved to
live. So descending he chose a pleasant spot beneath a mango tree, [103] and
there he made his abode.
p. 71
One day he fell asleep under the tree, with the jewel lying in front of him. Now
a certain man from the Kāsi country, who had been turned out of doors by his
parents as a ne’er-do-well, had made his way to a seaport, where he embarked on
shipboard as a sailors' drudge. In mid-sea the ship was wrecked, and he floated
upon a plank to this island. As he wandered in search of fruit, he espied our
boar fast asleep. Quietly he crept up, seized the gem, and found himself by
magic rising through the air! He alighted on the mango tree, and pondered. "The
magic of this gem," thought he, "has taught yon boar to be a sky-walker; that's
how he got here, I suppose. Well! I must kill him and make a meal of him first;
and then I'll be off." So he snapt off a twig, dropping it upon the boar's head.
The boar woke up, and seeing no gem, ran trembling up and down. The man up in
the tree laughed. The boar looked up, and seeing him ran his head against the
tree, and killed himself.
The man came down, lit a fire, cooked the boar and made a meal. Then he rose up
in the sky, and set out on his journey.
As he passed over the Himalaya, he saw the hermits' settlement. So he descended,
and spent two or three days in the eldest brother's hut, entertaining and
entertained, and he found out the virtue of the axe. He made up his mind to get
it for himself. So he showed our hermit the virtue of his gem, and offered to
exchange it for the axe. The hermit longed to be able to pass through mid-air 1,
and struck the bargain. The man took the axe, and departed; but before he had
gone very far, he struck upon it, and said--"Axe! smash that hermit's skull and
bring the gem to me!" Off flew the axe, clove the hermit's skull, and brought
the gem back.
Then the man hid the axe away, and paid a visit to the second brother. [104]
With him the visitor stayed a few days, and soon discovered the power of his
drum. Then he exchanged his gem for the drum, as before, and as before made the
axe cleave the owner's skull. After this he went on to the youngest of the three
hermits, found out the power of the milk-bowl, gave his jewel in exchange for
it, and as before sent his axe to cleave the man's skull. Thus he was now owner
of jewel, axe, drum, and milk-bowl, all four.
He now rose up and past through the air. Stopping hard by Benares, he wrote a
letter which he sent by a messenger's hands, that the king must either fight him
or yield. On receipt of this message the king sallied forth to "seize the
scoundrel." But he beat on one side of his drum, and was promptly surrounded by
an army in fourfold array. When he saw that the king had deployed his forces, he
then overturned the milk-bowl, and a great river poured forth; multitudes were
drowned
p. 72
in the river of curds. Next he struck upon his axe. "Fetch me the king's head!"
cried he; away went the axe, and came back and dropt the head at his feet. Not a
man could raise hand against him.
So encompassed by a mighty host, he entered the city, and caused himself to be
anointed king under the title of king Dadhi-vāhana, or Carried-on-the-Curds, and
ruled righteously.
One day, as the king was amusing himself by casting a net into the river, he
caught a mango fruit, fit for the gods, which had floated down from Lake
Kaṇṇamuṇḍa. When the net was hauled out, the mango was found, and shown to the
king. It was a huge fruit, as big as a basin, round, and golden in colour. The
king asked what the fruit was: Mango, said the foresters. He ate it, and had the
stone planted in his park, and watered with milk-water.
The tree sprouted up, and in three years it bore fruit. Great was the worship
paid to this tree; milk-water was poured about it; perfumed garlands with five
sprays 1 were hung upon it; wreaths were festooned about it; a lamp was kept
burning, and fed with scented oil; and all round it was a screen of cloth. The
fruit was sweet, and had the colour of fine gold. King Dadhi-vāhana, before
sending presents of these mangoes to other kings, [105] used to prick with a
thorn that place in the stone where the sprout would come from, for fear of
their growing the like by planting it. When they ate the fruit, they used to
plant the stone; but they could not get it to take root. They enquired the
reason, and learnt how the matter was.
One king asked his gardener whether he could spoil the flavour of this fruit,
and turn it bitter on the tree. Yes, the man said he could; so his king gave him
a thousand pieces and sent him on his errand.
So soon as he had arrived in Benares, the man ṣent a message to the king that a
gardener was come. The king admitted him to the presence. After the man had
saluted him, the king asked, "You are a gardener?" "Yes, Sire," said the man,
and began to sound his own praises. "Very well," said the king, "you may go and
assist my park-keeper." So after that these used both to look after the royal
grounds.
The new comer managed to make the park look more beautiful by forcing flowers
and fruit out of their season. This pleased the king,
p. 73
so that he dismissed the former keeper and gave the park into sole charge of the
new one. No sooner had this man got the park into his own hands than he planted
nimbs and creepers about the choice mango tree. By and by the nimbs sprouted up.
Above and below, root with root, and branch with branch, these were all
entangled with the mango tree. Thus this tree, with its sweet fruit, grew bitter
as the bitter-leaved nimb by the company of this noxious and sour plant. As soon
as the gardener knew that the fruit had gone bitter, he took to his heels.
King Dadhi-vāhana went a-walking in his pleasaunce, and took a bite of the mango
fruit. The juice in his mouth tasted like a nasty nimb; swallow it he could not,
so he coughed and spat it out. Now at that time the Bodhisatta was his temporal
and spiritual counsellor. The king turned to him. "Wise Sir, this tree is as
carefully cared for as ever, and yet its fruit has gone bitter. What's the
meaning of it?" and asking this question, he repeated the first stanza:--[106]
"Sweet was once the mango's savour, sweet its scent, its colour gold:
What has caused this bitter flavour? for we tend it as of old."
The Bodhisatta explained the reason in the second stanza:--
"Round about the trunk entwining, branch with branch, and root with root,
See the bitter creeper climbing; that is what has spoilt your fruit;
And so you see bad company will make the better follow suit."
On hearing this the Bodhisatta caused all the nimbs and creepers to be removed,
and their roots pulled up; the noxious soil was all taken away, and sweet earth
put in its place; and the tree was carefully fed with sweet water, milk-water,
scented water. Then by absorbing all this sweetness its fruit grew sweet again.
The king put his former gardener in charge of the park, and after his life was
done passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"In those days
I was the wise counsellor."
Footnotes
69:3 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, pp. 1 and 20; Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories,
p. xvi. This tale belongs to the same group as Grimm no. 36, The Wishing Table,
the Gold-Ass, and the Cudgel in the Sack: no. 54, The Knapsack, the Hat and the
Horn to which see the bibliographical note in Hunt's edition.
71:1 This was one of the supernatural powers much coveted by Buddhists.
72:1 The meaning of gandhapañcaṅgulikaṁ is uncertain. Perhaps a garland in which
sprouts or twigs were arranged radiating like the fingers of a hand. See Morris
in J. P. T. S., 1884, ṣ. v. See vol. i. p. 71 for a different rendering; but
there gandhena pañcaṅgulikaṁ datvā seems rather to mean "making five-finger
wreaths with scent." The spread hand is in many places a symbol used to avert
the evil eye. In some villages of India it is marked on the house walls (North
Ind. N. and Q., i. 42); it is carved on Phoenician tombstones (see those in the
Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris); and I have seen it in all parts of Syria, on
the houses of Jews, Christians, and Moslems.
Next: No. 187. Catumaṭṭa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Anabhirati Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 185. Anabhirati-Jātaka
No. 185.
ANABHIRATI-JĀTAKA.
"Thick, muddy water," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in
Jetavana, and it was about a young brahmin.
A young brahmin, as they say, belonging to Sāvatthi, had mastered the Three
Vedas, and used to teach sacred verses to a number of young brahmins and
kshatriyas. In time he settled down as a married man. His thoughts being now
busy with wealth and ornaments, serving men and serving women, lands and
substance, kine and buffaloes, sons and daughters, he became subject to passion,
error, folly. This obscured his wits, so that he forgot how to repeat his
formulæ in due order, and every now and then the charms did not come clear in
his mind. This man one day procured a quantity of flowers and sweet scents, and
these he took to the Master in Jetavana Park. After his greeting, he sat down on
one side. [100] The Master talked pleasantly to him. "Well, young Sir, you are a
teacher of the sacred verses. Do you know them all by heart?" "Well, Sir, I used
to know them all right, but since I married my mind has been darkened, and I
don't know them any longer." "Ah, young Sir," the Master said, "just the same
happened before; at first your mind was clear, and you knew all your verses
perfectly, but when your mind was obscured by passions and lusts, you could no
longer clearly see them." Then at his request the Master told the following
story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
in the family of a brahmin magnifico. When he grew up, it studied under a
far-famed teacher of Takkasilā, where he learnt all
p. 69
magic charms. After returning to Benares he taught these charms to a large
number of Brahmin and kshatriya youths.
Amongst these youths was one young brahmin who had learnt the Three Vedas by
heart; he became a master of ritual 1, and could repeat the whole of the sacred
texts without stumbling in a single line. By and bye he married and settled
down. Then household cares clouded his mind, and no longer could he repeat the
sacred verses.
One day his teacher paid him a visit. "Well, young Sir," he enquired, "do you
know all your verses off by heart?" "Since, l have been the head of a
household," was the reply, "my mind has been clouded, and I cannot repeat them."
"My son," said his teacher, "when the mind is clouded, no matter how perfectly
the scriptures have been learnt, they will not stand out clear. But when the
mind is serene there is no forgetting them." And thereupon he repeated the two
verses following:
"Thick, muddy water will not show
Fish or shell or sand or gravel that may lie below 2:
So with a clouded wit:
Nor your nor other's good is seen in it.
"Clear, quiet waters ever show
All, be it fish or shell, that lies below; [101]
So with unclouded wit:
Both your and other's good shows clear in it."
_____________________________
When the Master had finished this discourse, he declared the Truths, and
identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the young Brahmin entered
upon the Fruit of the First Path:--"In those days, this youth was the young
brahmin, and I was his teacher."
Footnotes
69:1 Or it may mean 'a pupil-teacher.'
69:2 There is an irregularity in this stanza, the Pali having an extra line. I
have reproduced this by making line 2 of an irregular length.
Next: No. 186. Dadhi-Vāhana-Jātaka
No. 185.
ANABHIRATI-JĀTAKA.
"Thick, muddy water," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in
Jetavana, and it was about a young brahmin.
A young brahmin, as they say, belonging to Sāvatthi, had mastered the Three
Vedas, and used to teach sacred verses to a number of young brahmins and
kshatriyas. In time he settled down as a married man. His thoughts being now
busy with wealth and ornaments, serving men and serving women, lands and
substance, kine and buffaloes, sons and daughters, he became subject to passion,
error, folly. This obscured his wits, so that he forgot how to repeat his
formulæ in due order, and every now and then the charms did not come clear in
his mind. This man one day procured a quantity of flowers and sweet scents, and
these he took to the Master in Jetavana Park. After his greeting, he sat down on
one side. [100] The Master talked pleasantly to him. "Well, young Sir, you are a
teacher of the sacred verses. Do you know them all by heart?" "Well, Sir, I used
to know them all right, but since I married my mind has been darkened, and I
don't know them any longer." "Ah, young Sir," the Master said, "just the same
happened before; at first your mind was clear, and you knew all your verses
perfectly, but when your mind was obscured by passions and lusts, you could no
longer clearly see them." Then at his request the Master told the following
story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
in the family of a brahmin magnifico. When he grew up, it studied under a
far-famed teacher of Takkasilā, where he learnt all
p. 69
magic charms. After returning to Benares he taught these charms to a large
number of Brahmin and kshatriya youths.
Amongst these youths was one young brahmin who had learnt the Three Vedas by
heart; he became a master of ritual 1, and could repeat the whole of the sacred
texts without stumbling in a single line. By and bye he married and settled
down. Then household cares clouded his mind, and no longer could he repeat the
sacred verses.
One day his teacher paid him a visit. "Well, young Sir," he enquired, "do you
know all your verses off by heart?" "Since, l have been the head of a
household," was the reply, "my mind has been clouded, and I cannot repeat them."
"My son," said his teacher, "when the mind is clouded, no matter how perfectly
the scriptures have been learnt, they will not stand out clear. But when the
mind is serene there is no forgetting them." And thereupon he repeated the two
verses following:
"Thick, muddy water will not show
Fish or shell or sand or gravel that may lie below 2:
So with a clouded wit:
Nor your nor other's good is seen in it.
"Clear, quiet waters ever show
All, be it fish or shell, that lies below; [101]
So with unclouded wit:
Both your and other's good shows clear in it."
_____________________________
When the Master had finished this discourse, he declared the Truths, and
identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the young Brahmin entered
upon the Fruit of the First Path:--"In those days, this youth was the young
brahmin, and I was his teacher."
Footnotes
69:1 Or it may mean 'a pupil-teacher.'
69:2 There is an irregularity in this stanza, the Pali having an extra line. I
have reproduced this by making line 2 of an irregular length.
Next: No. 186. Dadhi-Vāhana-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Giridanta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 184. Giridanta-Jātaka
No. 184.
GIRIDANTA-JĀTAKA.
[98] "Thanks to the groom," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in
Veḷuvana Park, about keeping bad company. The circumstances have been already
recounted under the Mahilāmukha Jātaka 1. Again, as before, the Master said: "In
former days this Brother kept bad company just as he does now." Then he told an
old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, there was a king named Sāma, the Black, reigning in Benares.
In those days the Bodhisatta was one of a courtier's family, and grew up to be
the king's temporal and spiritual adviser. Now the king had a state horse named
Paṇḍava, and one Giridanta was his trainer, a lame man. The horse used to watch
him as he tramped on and on in front, holding the halter; and knowing him to be
his trainer, imitated him and limped too.
Somebody told the king how the horse was limping. The king sent surgeons. They
examined the horse, but found him perfectly sound; and so accordingly made
report. Then the king sent the Bodhisatta. "Go, friend," said he, "and find out
all about it." He soon found out that the horse was lame because he went about
with a lame trainer. So he told the king what it was. "It's a case of bad
company," said he, and went on to repeat the first stanza:--
"Thanks to the groom, poor Paṇḍava is in a parlous state:
No more displays his former ways, but needs must imitate."
p. 68
"Well, now, my friend," said the king, "what's to be done?" "Get a good groom,"
replied the Bodhisatta, "and the horse will be as good as ever." Then he
repeated the second stanza:--[99]
"Find but a fit and proper groom, on whom you can depend,
To bridle him and exercise, the horse will quickly mend;
His sorry plight will be set right; he imitates his friend."
The king did so. The horse became as good as before. The king showed great
honour to the Bodhisatta, being pleased that he knew even the ways of animals.
_____________________________
The Master, when this discourse was ended, identified the Birth:--"Devadatta was
Giridanta in those days; the Brother who keeps bad company was the horse; and
the wise counsellor was I myself."
Footnotes
67:1 No. 26.
Next: No. 185. Anabhirati-Jātaka
No. 184.
GIRIDANTA-JĀTAKA.
[98] "Thanks to the groom," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in
Veḷuvana Park, about keeping bad company. The circumstances have been already
recounted under the Mahilāmukha Jātaka 1. Again, as before, the Master said: "In
former days this Brother kept bad company just as he does now." Then he told an
old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, there was a king named Sāma, the Black, reigning in Benares.
In those days the Bodhisatta was one of a courtier's family, and grew up to be
the king's temporal and spiritual adviser. Now the king had a state horse named
Paṇḍava, and one Giridanta was his trainer, a lame man. The horse used to watch
him as he tramped on and on in front, holding the halter; and knowing him to be
his trainer, imitated him and limped too.
Somebody told the king how the horse was limping. The king sent surgeons. They
examined the horse, but found him perfectly sound; and so accordingly made
report. Then the king sent the Bodhisatta. "Go, friend," said he, "and find out
all about it." He soon found out that the horse was lame because he went about
with a lame trainer. So he told the king what it was. "It's a case of bad
company," said he, and went on to repeat the first stanza:--
"Thanks to the groom, poor Paṇḍava is in a parlous state:
No more displays his former ways, but needs must imitate."
p. 68
"Well, now, my friend," said the king, "what's to be done?" "Get a good groom,"
replied the Bodhisatta, "and the horse will be as good as ever." Then he
repeated the second stanza:--[99]
"Find but a fit and proper groom, on whom you can depend,
To bridle him and exercise, the horse will quickly mend;
His sorry plight will be set right; he imitates his friend."
The king did so. The horse became as good as before. The king showed great
honour to the Bodhisatta, being pleased that he knew even the ways of animals.
_____________________________
The Master, when this discourse was ended, identified the Birth:--"Devadatta was
Giridanta in those days; the Brother who keeps bad company was the horse; and
the wise counsellor was I myself."
Footnotes
67:1 No. 26.
Next: No. 185. Anabhirati-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Valodaka Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 183. Vālodaka-Jātaka
No. 183.
VĀLODAKA-JĀTAKA 1.
"This sorry draught," etc.--This story the Master told whilst at Jetavana, about
five hundred persons who ate broken meat.
At Sāvatthi, we learn, were five hundred persons who had left the
stumbling-block of a worldly life to their sons and daughters, [96] and lived
all together sitting under the Master's preaching. Of these, some were in the
First Path, some in the Second, some in the Third: not a single one but had
embraced salvation. They that invited the Master invited these also. But they
had five hundred pages waiting upon them, to bring them toothbrushes,
mouth-water, and garlands of flowers; these lads used to eat their broken meat.
After their meal, and a nap, they used to run down to the Aciravatī, and on the
river bank they would wrestle like very Mallians 2, shouting all the time. But
the five hundred lay brethren were quiet, made very little noise, courted
solitude.
p. 66
The Master happened to hear the pages shouting. "What is that noise, Ānanda?" he
asked. "The pages, who eat the broken meat," was the reply. The Master said:
"Ānanda, this is not the only time these pages have fed on broken meat, and made
a great noise after it; they used to do the same in the olden days; and then too
these lay brethren were just as quiet as they are now." So saying, at his
request, the Master told a story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as the son of one of his courtiers, and became the king's adviser in all things
both temporal and spiritual. Word came to the king of a revolt on the frontier.
He ordered five hundred chargers to he got ready, and an army complete in its
four parts 1. With this he set out, and quelled the rising, after which he
returned to Benares.
When he came home, he gave order, "As the horses are tired, let them have some
juicy food, some grape juice to drink." The steeds took this delicious drink,
then retired to their stables and stood quietly each in his stall.
But there was a mass of leavings, with nearly all the goodness squeezed out of
it. The keepers asked the king what to do with that. "Knead it up with water,"
was his command, "strain through a towel, and give it to the donkeys who carry
the horses' provender." This wretched stuff the donkeys drank up. It maddened
them, and they galloped about the palace yard braying loudly.
From an open window the king saw the Bodhisatta, and called out to him. [97]
"Look there! how mad these donkeys are from that sorry drink! how they bray, how
they caper! But those fine thorobreds that drank the strong liquor, they make no
noise; they are perfectly quiet, and jump not at all. What is the meaning of
this?" and he repeated the first stanza:
"This sorry draught, the goodness all strained out 2,
Drives all these asses in a drunken rout:
The thorobreds, that drank the potent juice,
Stand silent, nor skip capering about."
And the Bodhisatta explained the matter in the second stanza:--
"The low-born churl, though he but taste and try,
Is frolicsome and drunken by and by:
He that is gentle keeps a steady brain
Even if he drain most potent liquor dry."
When the king had listened to the Bodhisatta's answer, he had the donkeys driven
out of his courtyard. Then, abiding by the Bodhisatta's
p. 67
advice, he alms and did good until he passed away to fare according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth as follows:--"At
that time these pages were the five hundred asses, these lay brethren were the
five hundred thorobreds, Ānanda was the king, and the wise courtier was I
myself."
Footnotes
65:1 The introductory story is varied in Dhammapada, Comm. p. 274.
65:2 The Mallians were a tribe of professional wrestlers.
66:1 Elephants, horse, chariots, infantry.
66:2 Dhammapada, p. 275.
Next: No. 184. Giridanta-Jātaka
No. 183.
VĀLODAKA-JĀTAKA 1.
"This sorry draught," etc.--This story the Master told whilst at Jetavana, about
five hundred persons who ate broken meat.
At Sāvatthi, we learn, were five hundred persons who had left the
stumbling-block of a worldly life to their sons and daughters, [96] and lived
all together sitting under the Master's preaching. Of these, some were in the
First Path, some in the Second, some in the Third: not a single one but had
embraced salvation. They that invited the Master invited these also. But they
had five hundred pages waiting upon them, to bring them toothbrushes,
mouth-water, and garlands of flowers; these lads used to eat their broken meat.
After their meal, and a nap, they used to run down to the Aciravatī, and on the
river bank they would wrestle like very Mallians 2, shouting all the time. But
the five hundred lay brethren were quiet, made very little noise, courted
solitude.
p. 66
The Master happened to hear the pages shouting. "What is that noise, Ānanda?" he
asked. "The pages, who eat the broken meat," was the reply. The Master said:
"Ānanda, this is not the only time these pages have fed on broken meat, and made
a great noise after it; they used to do the same in the olden days; and then too
these lay brethren were just as quiet as they are now." So saying, at his
request, the Master told a story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as the son of one of his courtiers, and became the king's adviser in all things
both temporal and spiritual. Word came to the king of a revolt on the frontier.
He ordered five hundred chargers to he got ready, and an army complete in its
four parts 1. With this he set out, and quelled the rising, after which he
returned to Benares.
When he came home, he gave order, "As the horses are tired, let them have some
juicy food, some grape juice to drink." The steeds took this delicious drink,
then retired to their stables and stood quietly each in his stall.
But there was a mass of leavings, with nearly all the goodness squeezed out of
it. The keepers asked the king what to do with that. "Knead it up with water,"
was his command, "strain through a towel, and give it to the donkeys who carry
the horses' provender." This wretched stuff the donkeys drank up. It maddened
them, and they galloped about the palace yard braying loudly.
From an open window the king saw the Bodhisatta, and called out to him. [97]
"Look there! how mad these donkeys are from that sorry drink! how they bray, how
they caper! But those fine thorobreds that drank the strong liquor, they make no
noise; they are perfectly quiet, and jump not at all. What is the meaning of
this?" and he repeated the first stanza:
"This sorry draught, the goodness all strained out 2,
Drives all these asses in a drunken rout:
The thorobreds, that drank the potent juice,
Stand silent, nor skip capering about."
And the Bodhisatta explained the matter in the second stanza:--
"The low-born churl, though he but taste and try,
Is frolicsome and drunken by and by:
He that is gentle keeps a steady brain
Even if he drain most potent liquor dry."
When the king had listened to the Bodhisatta's answer, he had the donkeys driven
out of his courtyard. Then, abiding by the Bodhisatta's
p. 67
advice, he alms and did good until he passed away to fare according to his
deserts.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth as follows:--"At
that time these pages were the five hundred asses, these lay brethren were the
five hundred thorobreds, Ānanda was the king, and the wise courtier was I
myself."
Footnotes
65:1 The introductory story is varied in Dhammapada, Comm. p. 274.
65:2 The Mallians were a tribe of professional wrestlers.
66:1 Elephants, horse, chariots, infantry.
66:2 Dhammapada, p. 275.
Next: No. 184. Giridanta-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Samgamavacara Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 182. Saṁgāmāvacara-Jātaka
No. 182.
SAṀGĀMĀVACARA-JĀTAKA.
"O Elephant, a hero thou," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at
Jetavana, about Elder Nanda.
The Master, on his first return to Kapila city, had received into the Community
Prince Nanda, his younger brother, and after returned to Sāvatthi and stayed
there. Now Father Nanda, remembering how as he was leaving his home, after
taking the Bowl, in the Master's company, Janapadakalyāṇī was looking out of a
window, with her hair half combed, and she said--"Why, Prince Nanda is off with
the Master!--Come back soon, dear lord!"--remembering this, I say, grew downcast
and despondent, yellower and yellower, and the veins stood knotted over his
skin.
When the Master learnt, of this, he thought, "What if I could establish Nanda in
sainthood!" To Nanda's cell he went, and sat on the seat which was offered him.
"Well, Nanda," he asked, "are you content with our teaching "Sir," replied
Nanda, "I am in love with Janapadakalyāṇī, and I am not content." "Have you been
on pilgrimage in the Himalaya, Nanda?" "No, Sir, not yet." "Then we will go."
"But, Sir, I have no miraculous power; how can I go?" "I will take you, Nanda."
So saying, the Master took him h, the hand, and thus passed through the air.
On the way they passed over a burnt field. There, upon the charred stump of a
tree, with nose and tail half gone, hair scorched off, and hide a cinder,
nothing but skin, all covered with blood, sat a she-monkey. "Do you see that
monkey, Nanda?" the Master asked. "Yes, Sir." "Take a good look at her," said
he. Then he pointed out, stretching over sixty leagues, the uplands of Manosilā,
the seven great lakes, Anotatta and the rest, the five great rivers, the whole
Himalaya highlands, with the magnificent hills named of Gold, of Silver, and of
Gems, and hundreds of other lovely spots. Next he asked, "Nanda, have you ever
seen the abode of the Thirty-three Archangels?" [93] "No, Sir, never," was the
reply. "Come along, Nanda," said he, "and I will show you the abode of the
Thirty-three." Therewith he brought him to the Yellowstone Throne 1, and made
him sit on it. Sakka, king of the gods in two heavens, came with his host
p. 64
of gods, gave greeting and sat down on one side. His handmaids to the number of
twenty-five million, and five hundred nymphs with doves' feet, came and made
greeting, then sat down on one side. The Master made Nanda look at these five
hundred nymphs again and again, with desire after them. "Nanda" said he, "do you
see these dove's-foot nymphs? "Yes, Sir." "Well, which is prettiest--they or
Janapadakalyāṇī?" "Oh, Sir! as that wretched ape was in comparison with
Janapadakalyāṇī, so is she compared with these!" "Well, Nanda, what are you
going to do?" "How is it possible, Sir, to win these nymphs?" "By living as an
ascetic, Sir," said the Master, "one may win these nymphs." The lad said, "If
the Blessed One pledges his word that an ascetic life will win these nymphs, an
ascetic life I will lead." "Agreed, Nanda, I pledge my word. Well, Sir," said
he, "don't let us make a long business of it. Let us be off, and I will become
an ascetic."
The Master brought him to Jetavana back again. The Elder began to follow the
ascetic life.
The Master recounted to Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith, how his younger
brother had made him pledge himself in the midst of the gods in the heaven of
the Thirty-three about the nymphs. In the same manner, he told the story to
Elder Mahāmoggallāna, to Elder Mahākassapa, to Elder Anuruddha, to Elder Ānanda,
the Treasurer of the Faith, eighty great disciples in all; and then, one after
the other, he told it to the other Brethren. The Captain of the Faith, Elder
Sāriputta, asked Elder Nanda, "Is it true, as I hear, friend, that you have the
Buddha's pledged word that you shall win the nymphs of the gods in the heaven of
the Thirty-three, by passing your life as an ascetic? Then," he went on, "is not
your holy life all bound up with womankind and lust? If you live chaste just for
the sake of women, what is the difference between you and a labourer who works
for hire?" [94] This saying quenched all the fire in him and made him ashamed of
himself. In the same way all the eighty chief disciples, and all the rest of the
Brethren, made this worthy father ashamed. "I have been wrong," thought he; in
all shame and remorse, he screwed up his courage, and set to work to develope
his spiritual insight. Soon he attained to sainthood. He came to the Master, and
said, "Sir, I release the Blessed One from his promise." The Master said, "If
you have attained sainthood, Nanda, I am thereby released from my promise."
When the Brethren heard of this, they began to talk it over in their Hall of
Truth. "How docile yon Elder Nanda is, to be sure! Why, friend, one word of
advice awakened his sense of shame; at once he began to live as an ascetic and
now he is a Saint!" The Master came in, and asked what they were talking about
together. They told him. "Brethren," said he, "Nanda was just as docile in
former days as he is now;" and then he told them a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born as an elephant-trainer's son. When he grew up, he was carefully taught all
that pertains to the training of elephants. He was in the service of a king who
was an enemy to the king of Benares. He trained this king's elephant of state to
perfection.
The king determined to capture Benares. Mounting upon his state elephant, he led
a mighty host against Benares, and laid siege to it. Then he sent a letter to
the king of the city: "Fight, or yield:" The king chose to fight. Walls and
gates, towers and battlements he manned with a great host, and defied the foe.
The hostile king armed his state elephant, and clad himself in armour, took a
sharp goad in his hand, and drove his beast city-wards; "Now,"
p. 65
said he, "I'll storm this city, and kill my enemy, and get his realms into my
hands:" But at sight of the defenders, who cast boiling mud, and stones from
their catapults, and all kinds of missiles, the elephant was scared out of his
wits and would not come near the place. Thereupon up came the trainer, crying,
"Son, a hero like you is quite at home in the battle-field! [95] in such a place
it is disgraceful to turn tail!" And to encourage his elephant, he uttered these
two verses:
"O Elephant, a hero thou, whose home is in the field:
There stands the gate before thee now: why dost thou turn and yield?
"Make haste! break through the iron bar, and beat the pillars down!
Crash through the gates, made fast for war, and enter in the town!"
The Elephant listened; one word of advice was enough to turn him. Winding his
trunk about the shafts of the pillars, he tore them up like so many toadstools:
he beat against the gateway, broke down the bars, and forcing his way through
entered the city and won it for his king.
_____________________________
When the Master had finished this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In those
days Nanda was the Elephant, Ānanda was the king, and the trainer was I myself."
Footnotes
63:1 The throne of Sakka (Indra).
Next: No. 183. Vālodaka-Jātaka
No. 182.
SAṀGĀMĀVACARA-JĀTAKA.
"O Elephant, a hero thou," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at
Jetavana, about Elder Nanda.
The Master, on his first return to Kapila city, had received into the Community
Prince Nanda, his younger brother, and after returned to Sāvatthi and stayed
there. Now Father Nanda, remembering how as he was leaving his home, after
taking the Bowl, in the Master's company, Janapadakalyāṇī was looking out of a
window, with her hair half combed, and she said--"Why, Prince Nanda is off with
the Master!--Come back soon, dear lord!"--remembering this, I say, grew downcast
and despondent, yellower and yellower, and the veins stood knotted over his
skin.
When the Master learnt, of this, he thought, "What if I could establish Nanda in
sainthood!" To Nanda's cell he went, and sat on the seat which was offered him.
"Well, Nanda," he asked, "are you content with our teaching "Sir," replied
Nanda, "I am in love with Janapadakalyāṇī, and I am not content." "Have you been
on pilgrimage in the Himalaya, Nanda?" "No, Sir, not yet." "Then we will go."
"But, Sir, I have no miraculous power; how can I go?" "I will take you, Nanda."
So saying, the Master took him h, the hand, and thus passed through the air.
On the way they passed over a burnt field. There, upon the charred stump of a
tree, with nose and tail half gone, hair scorched off, and hide a cinder,
nothing but skin, all covered with blood, sat a she-monkey. "Do you see that
monkey, Nanda?" the Master asked. "Yes, Sir." "Take a good look at her," said
he. Then he pointed out, stretching over sixty leagues, the uplands of Manosilā,
the seven great lakes, Anotatta and the rest, the five great rivers, the whole
Himalaya highlands, with the magnificent hills named of Gold, of Silver, and of
Gems, and hundreds of other lovely spots. Next he asked, "Nanda, have you ever
seen the abode of the Thirty-three Archangels?" [93] "No, Sir, never," was the
reply. "Come along, Nanda," said he, "and I will show you the abode of the
Thirty-three." Therewith he brought him to the Yellowstone Throne 1, and made
him sit on it. Sakka, king of the gods in two heavens, came with his host
p. 64
of gods, gave greeting and sat down on one side. His handmaids to the number of
twenty-five million, and five hundred nymphs with doves' feet, came and made
greeting, then sat down on one side. The Master made Nanda look at these five
hundred nymphs again and again, with desire after them. "Nanda" said he, "do you
see these dove's-foot nymphs? "Yes, Sir." "Well, which is prettiest--they or
Janapadakalyāṇī?" "Oh, Sir! as that wretched ape was in comparison with
Janapadakalyāṇī, so is she compared with these!" "Well, Nanda, what are you
going to do?" "How is it possible, Sir, to win these nymphs?" "By living as an
ascetic, Sir," said the Master, "one may win these nymphs." The lad said, "If
the Blessed One pledges his word that an ascetic life will win these nymphs, an
ascetic life I will lead." "Agreed, Nanda, I pledge my word. Well, Sir," said
he, "don't let us make a long business of it. Let us be off, and I will become
an ascetic."
The Master brought him to Jetavana back again. The Elder began to follow the
ascetic life.
The Master recounted to Sāriputta, the Captain of the Faith, how his younger
brother had made him pledge himself in the midst of the gods in the heaven of
the Thirty-three about the nymphs. In the same manner, he told the story to
Elder Mahāmoggallāna, to Elder Mahākassapa, to Elder Anuruddha, to Elder Ānanda,
the Treasurer of the Faith, eighty great disciples in all; and then, one after
the other, he told it to the other Brethren. The Captain of the Faith, Elder
Sāriputta, asked Elder Nanda, "Is it true, as I hear, friend, that you have the
Buddha's pledged word that you shall win the nymphs of the gods in the heaven of
the Thirty-three, by passing your life as an ascetic? Then," he went on, "is not
your holy life all bound up with womankind and lust? If you live chaste just for
the sake of women, what is the difference between you and a labourer who works
for hire?" [94] This saying quenched all the fire in him and made him ashamed of
himself. In the same way all the eighty chief disciples, and all the rest of the
Brethren, made this worthy father ashamed. "I have been wrong," thought he; in
all shame and remorse, he screwed up his courage, and set to work to develope
his spiritual insight. Soon he attained to sainthood. He came to the Master, and
said, "Sir, I release the Blessed One from his promise." The Master said, "If
you have attained sainthood, Nanda, I am thereby released from my promise."
When the Brethren heard of this, they began to talk it over in their Hall of
Truth. "How docile yon Elder Nanda is, to be sure! Why, friend, one word of
advice awakened his sense of shame; at once he began to live as an ascetic and
now he is a Saint!" The Master came in, and asked what they were talking about
together. They told him. "Brethren," said he, "Nanda was just as docile in
former days as he is now;" and then he told them a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born as an elephant-trainer's son. When he grew up, he was carefully taught all
that pertains to the training of elephants. He was in the service of a king who
was an enemy to the king of Benares. He trained this king's elephant of state to
perfection.
The king determined to capture Benares. Mounting upon his state elephant, he led
a mighty host against Benares, and laid siege to it. Then he sent a letter to
the king of the city: "Fight, or yield:" The king chose to fight. Walls and
gates, towers and battlements he manned with a great host, and defied the foe.
The hostile king armed his state elephant, and clad himself in armour, took a
sharp goad in his hand, and drove his beast city-wards; "Now,"
p. 65
said he, "I'll storm this city, and kill my enemy, and get his realms into my
hands:" But at sight of the defenders, who cast boiling mud, and stones from
their catapults, and all kinds of missiles, the elephant was scared out of his
wits and would not come near the place. Thereupon up came the trainer, crying,
"Son, a hero like you is quite at home in the battle-field! [95] in such a place
it is disgraceful to turn tail!" And to encourage his elephant, he uttered these
two verses:
"O Elephant, a hero thou, whose home is in the field:
There stands the gate before thee now: why dost thou turn and yield?
"Make haste! break through the iron bar, and beat the pillars down!
Crash through the gates, made fast for war, and enter in the town!"
The Elephant listened; one word of advice was enough to turn him. Winding his
trunk about the shafts of the pillars, he tore them up like so many toadstools:
he beat against the gateway, broke down the bars, and forcing his way through
entered the city and won it for his king.
_____________________________
When the Master had finished this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In those
days Nanda was the Elephant, Ānanda was the king, and the trainer was I myself."
Footnotes
63:1 The throne of Sakka (Indra).
Next: No. 183. Vālodaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Asadisa Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 181. Asadisa-Jātaka
p. 60
No. 181.
ASADISA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Prince Peerless, skilled in archers' craft," etc.--This story the Master told
at Jetavana, about the Great Renunciation. The Master said, "Not now alone,
Brethren, has the Tathāgata made the Great Renunciation: in other days he also
renounced the white parasol of royalty, and did the same." And he told a story
of the past.
_____________________________
[87] Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was
conceived as the son of the Queen Consort. She was safely delivered; and on his
nameday they gave him the name of Asadisa-Kumāra, Prince Peerless. About the
time he was able to walk, the Queen conceived one who was also to be a wise
being. She was safely delivered, and on the nameday they called the babe
Brahmadatta-Kumāra, or Prince Heaven-sent.
When Prince Peerless was sixteen, he went to Takkasilā for his education. There
at the feet of a world-famed teacher he learnt the Three Vedas and the Eighteen
Accomplishments; in the science of archery he was peerless; then he returned to
Benares.
When the king was on his deathbed he commanded that Prince Peerless should he
king in his stead, and Prince Brahmadatta heir apparent. Then he died; after
which the kingship was offered to Peerless, who refused, saying that he cared
not for it. So they consecrated Brahmadatta to be king by sprinkling him.
Peerless cared nothing for glory, and wanted nothing.
While the younger brother ruled, Peerless lived in all royal state. The slaves
came and slandered him to his brother; "Prince Peerless wants to be king!" said
they. Brahmadatta believed them, and allowed himself to be deceived; he sent
some men to take Peerless prisoner.
One of Prince Peerless' attendants told him what was afoot. He waxed angry with
his brother, and went away into another country. When he was arrived there, he
sent in word to the king that an archer was come, and awaited him. "What wages
does he ask?" the king enquired. "A hundred thousand a year." "Good," said the
king; "let him enter."
p. 61
Peerless came into the presence, and stood waiting. "Are you the archer?" asked
the king. "Yes, Sire." "Very well, I take you into my service." After that
Peerless remained in the service of this king. [88] But the old archers were
annoyed at the wage which was given him; "Too much," they grumbled.
One day it so happened that the king went out into his park. There, at foot of a
mango tree, where a screen had been put up before a certain stone seat of
ceremony, he reclined upon a magnificent couch. He happened to look up, and
there right at the treetop he saw a cluster of mango fruit. "It is too high to
climb for," thought he; so summoning his archers, he asked them whether they
could cut off yon cluster with an arrow, and bring it down for him. "Oh," said
they, "that is not much for us to do. But your majesty has seen our skill often
enough. The newcomer is so much better paid than we, that perhaps you might make
him bring down the fruit."
Then the king sent for Peerless, and asked him if he could do it. "Oh yes, your
Majesty, if I may choose my position." "What position do you want?" "The place
where your couch stands." The king had the couch removed, and gave place.
Peerless had no bow in his hand; he used to carry it underneath his body-cloth;
so he must needs have a screen. The king ordered a screen to be brought and
spread for him, and our archer went in. He doffed the white cloth which he wore
over all, and put on a red cloth next his skin; then he fastened his girdle, and
donned a red waistcloth. From a bag he took out a sword in pieces, which he put
together and girt on his left side. Next he put on a mailcoat of gold, fastened
his bow-case over his back, and took out his great ramshorn bow, made in several
pieces, which he fitted together, fixed the bowstring, red as coral; put a
turban upon his head; twirling the arrow with his nails, he threw open the
screen and came out, looking like a serpent prince just emerging from the riven
ground. He went to the place of shooting, arrow set to bow, and then put this
question to the king. "Your Majesty," said he, "am I to bring this fruit down
with an upward shot, [89] or by dropping the arrow upon it?"
"My son," said the king, "I have often seen a mark brought down by the upward
shot, but never one taken in the fall. You had better make the shaft fall on
it."
"Your Majesty," said the archer, "this arrow will fly high. Up to the heaven of
the Four Great Kings it will fly, and then return of itself. You must please be
patient till it returns." The king promised. Then the archer said again, "Your
Majesty, this arrow in its upshot will pierce the stalk exactly in the middle;
and when it comes down, it will not swerve a hair's-breadth either way, but hit
the same spot to a nicety, and
p. 62
bring down the cluster with it." Then he sped the arrow forth swiftly. As the
arrow went up it pierced the exact centre of the mango stalk. By the time the
archer knew his arrow had reached the place of the Four Great Kings, he let fly
another arrow with greater speed than the first. This struck the feather of the
first arrow, and turned it back; then itself went up as far as the heaven of the
Thirty-three Archangels. There the deities caught and kept it.
The sound of the falling arrow as it cleft the air was as the sound of a
thunderbolt. "What is that noise?" asked every man. "That is the arrow falling,"
our archer replied. The bystanders were all frightened to death, for fear the
arrow should fall on them; but Peerless comforted them. "Fear nothing," said he,
"and I will see that it does not fall on the earth." Down came the arrow, not a
hairbreadth out either way, but neatly cut through the stalk of the mango
cluster. The archer caught the arrow in one hand and the fruit in the other, so
that they should not fall upon the ground. "We never saw such a thing before!"
cried the onlookers, at this marvel. [90] How they praised the great man! how
they cheered and clapped and snapped their fingers, thousands of kerchiefs
waving in the air! In their joy and delight the courtiers gave presents to
Peerless amounting to ten millions of money. And the king too showered gifts and
honours upon him like rain.
While the Bodhisatta was receiving such glory and honour at the hands of this
king, seven kings, who knew that there was no Prince Peerless in Benares, drew a
leaguer around the city, and summoned its king to fight or yield. The king was
frightened out of his life. "Where is my brother?" he asked. "He is in the
service of a neighbouring king," was the reply. "If my dear brother does not
come," said he, "I am a dead man. Go, fall at his feet in my name, appease him,
bring him hither!" His messengers came and did their errand. Peerless took leave
of his master, and returned to Benares. He comforted his brother and bade him
fear nothing; then scratched 1 a message upon an arrow to this effect: "I,
Prince Peerless, am returned. I mean to kill you all with one arrow which I will
shoot at you. Let those who care for life make their escape." This he shot so
that it fell upon the very middle of a golden dish, from which the seven kings
were eating together. When they read the writing they all fled, half-dead with
fright.
Thus did our Prince put to flight seven kings, without shedding even so much
blood as a little fly might drink; then, looking upon his younger brother, he
renounced his lusts, and forsook the world, cultivated the Faculties and the
Attainments, and at his life's end came to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
p. 63
[91] "And this is the way," said the Master, "that Prince Peerless routed seven
kings and won the battle; after which he took up the religious life." Then
becoming perfectly enlightened he uttered these two verses:
"Prince Peerless, skilled in archers' craft, a doughty chief was he;
Swift as the lightning sped his shaft great warriors' bane to be.
"Among his foes what havoc done! yet hurt he not a soul;
He saved his brother; and he won the grace of self-control."
[92] When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth: "Ānanda
was then the younger brother, and I was myself the elder."
Footnotes
60:1 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, 114. The latter part of the story is given very
briefly in Mahāvastu, 2. 82-3, Çarakṣepana Jātaka. It is figured on the Bharhut
Stupa, see Cunningham, p. 70, and plate xxvii. 13; and on the Sauchi Tope, see
Fergusson, Tree and Serpent Worship, pl. xxxvi. p. 181.
62:1 In the Mahāvastu it is wrapt round it (2. p. 82. 14, pariveṭhitvā); so in
Hardy.
Next: No. 182. Saṁgāmāvacara-Jātaka
p. 60
No. 181.
ASADISA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Prince Peerless, skilled in archers' craft," etc.--This story the Master told
at Jetavana, about the Great Renunciation. The Master said, "Not now alone,
Brethren, has the Tathāgata made the Great Renunciation: in other days he also
renounced the white parasol of royalty, and did the same." And he told a story
of the past.
_____________________________
[87] Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was
conceived as the son of the Queen Consort. She was safely delivered; and on his
nameday they gave him the name of Asadisa-Kumāra, Prince Peerless. About the
time he was able to walk, the Queen conceived one who was also to be a wise
being. She was safely delivered, and on the nameday they called the babe
Brahmadatta-Kumāra, or Prince Heaven-sent.
When Prince Peerless was sixteen, he went to Takkasilā for his education. There
at the feet of a world-famed teacher he learnt the Three Vedas and the Eighteen
Accomplishments; in the science of archery he was peerless; then he returned to
Benares.
When the king was on his deathbed he commanded that Prince Peerless should he
king in his stead, and Prince Brahmadatta heir apparent. Then he died; after
which the kingship was offered to Peerless, who refused, saying that he cared
not for it. So they consecrated Brahmadatta to be king by sprinkling him.
Peerless cared nothing for glory, and wanted nothing.
While the younger brother ruled, Peerless lived in all royal state. The slaves
came and slandered him to his brother; "Prince Peerless wants to be king!" said
they. Brahmadatta believed them, and allowed himself to be deceived; he sent
some men to take Peerless prisoner.
One of Prince Peerless' attendants told him what was afoot. He waxed angry with
his brother, and went away into another country. When he was arrived there, he
sent in word to the king that an archer was come, and awaited him. "What wages
does he ask?" the king enquired. "A hundred thousand a year." "Good," said the
king; "let him enter."
p. 61
Peerless came into the presence, and stood waiting. "Are you the archer?" asked
the king. "Yes, Sire." "Very well, I take you into my service." After that
Peerless remained in the service of this king. [88] But the old archers were
annoyed at the wage which was given him; "Too much," they grumbled.
One day it so happened that the king went out into his park. There, at foot of a
mango tree, where a screen had been put up before a certain stone seat of
ceremony, he reclined upon a magnificent couch. He happened to look up, and
there right at the treetop he saw a cluster of mango fruit. "It is too high to
climb for," thought he; so summoning his archers, he asked them whether they
could cut off yon cluster with an arrow, and bring it down for him. "Oh," said
they, "that is not much for us to do. But your majesty has seen our skill often
enough. The newcomer is so much better paid than we, that perhaps you might make
him bring down the fruit."
Then the king sent for Peerless, and asked him if he could do it. "Oh yes, your
Majesty, if I may choose my position." "What position do you want?" "The place
where your couch stands." The king had the couch removed, and gave place.
Peerless had no bow in his hand; he used to carry it underneath his body-cloth;
so he must needs have a screen. The king ordered a screen to be brought and
spread for him, and our archer went in. He doffed the white cloth which he wore
over all, and put on a red cloth next his skin; then he fastened his girdle, and
donned a red waistcloth. From a bag he took out a sword in pieces, which he put
together and girt on his left side. Next he put on a mailcoat of gold, fastened
his bow-case over his back, and took out his great ramshorn bow, made in several
pieces, which he fitted together, fixed the bowstring, red as coral; put a
turban upon his head; twirling the arrow with his nails, he threw open the
screen and came out, looking like a serpent prince just emerging from the riven
ground. He went to the place of shooting, arrow set to bow, and then put this
question to the king. "Your Majesty," said he, "am I to bring this fruit down
with an upward shot, [89] or by dropping the arrow upon it?"
"My son," said the king, "I have often seen a mark brought down by the upward
shot, but never one taken in the fall. You had better make the shaft fall on
it."
"Your Majesty," said the archer, "this arrow will fly high. Up to the heaven of
the Four Great Kings it will fly, and then return of itself. You must please be
patient till it returns." The king promised. Then the archer said again, "Your
Majesty, this arrow in its upshot will pierce the stalk exactly in the middle;
and when it comes down, it will not swerve a hair's-breadth either way, but hit
the same spot to a nicety, and
p. 62
bring down the cluster with it." Then he sped the arrow forth swiftly. As the
arrow went up it pierced the exact centre of the mango stalk. By the time the
archer knew his arrow had reached the place of the Four Great Kings, he let fly
another arrow with greater speed than the first. This struck the feather of the
first arrow, and turned it back; then itself went up as far as the heaven of the
Thirty-three Archangels. There the deities caught and kept it.
The sound of the falling arrow as it cleft the air was as the sound of a
thunderbolt. "What is that noise?" asked every man. "That is the arrow falling,"
our archer replied. The bystanders were all frightened to death, for fear the
arrow should fall on them; but Peerless comforted them. "Fear nothing," said he,
"and I will see that it does not fall on the earth." Down came the arrow, not a
hairbreadth out either way, but neatly cut through the stalk of the mango
cluster. The archer caught the arrow in one hand and the fruit in the other, so
that they should not fall upon the ground. "We never saw such a thing before!"
cried the onlookers, at this marvel. [90] How they praised the great man! how
they cheered and clapped and snapped their fingers, thousands of kerchiefs
waving in the air! In their joy and delight the courtiers gave presents to
Peerless amounting to ten millions of money. And the king too showered gifts and
honours upon him like rain.
While the Bodhisatta was receiving such glory and honour at the hands of this
king, seven kings, who knew that there was no Prince Peerless in Benares, drew a
leaguer around the city, and summoned its king to fight or yield. The king was
frightened out of his life. "Where is my brother?" he asked. "He is in the
service of a neighbouring king," was the reply. "If my dear brother does not
come," said he, "I am a dead man. Go, fall at his feet in my name, appease him,
bring him hither!" His messengers came and did their errand. Peerless took leave
of his master, and returned to Benares. He comforted his brother and bade him
fear nothing; then scratched 1 a message upon an arrow to this effect: "I,
Prince Peerless, am returned. I mean to kill you all with one arrow which I will
shoot at you. Let those who care for life make their escape." This he shot so
that it fell upon the very middle of a golden dish, from which the seven kings
were eating together. When they read the writing they all fled, half-dead with
fright.
Thus did our Prince put to flight seven kings, without shedding even so much
blood as a little fly might drink; then, looking upon his younger brother, he
renounced his lusts, and forsook the world, cultivated the Faculties and the
Attainments, and at his life's end came to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
p. 63
[91] "And this is the way," said the Master, "that Prince Peerless routed seven
kings and won the battle; after which he took up the religious life." Then
becoming perfectly enlightened he uttered these two verses:
"Prince Peerless, skilled in archers' craft, a doughty chief was he;
Swift as the lightning sped his shaft great warriors' bane to be.
"Among his foes what havoc done! yet hurt he not a soul;
He saved his brother; and he won the grace of self-control."
[92] When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth: "Ānanda
was then the younger brother, and I was myself the elder."
Footnotes
60:1 Hardy, Manual of Buddhism, 114. The latter part of the story is given very
briefly in Mahāvastu, 2. 82-3, Çarakṣepana Jātaka. It is figured on the Bharhut
Stupa, see Cunningham, p. 70, and plate xxvii. 13; and on the Sauchi Tope, see
Fergusson, Tree and Serpent Worship, pl. xxxvi. p. 181.
62:1 In the Mahāvastu it is wrapt round it (2. p. 82. 14, pariveṭhitvā); so in
Hardy.
Next: No. 182. Saṁgāmāvacara-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Duddada Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 180. Duddada-Jātaka
p. 59
No. 180.
DUDDADA-JĀTAKA.
"Tis hard to do as good men do," etc.--This story the Master told whilst in
Jetavana, about alms given in common. Two friends at Sāvatthi, young men of good
position, made a collection, providing all the necessaries to give the Buddha
and his followers. They invited them all, provided bounty for seven days, and on
the seventh presented them with all their requisites. The eldest of these
saluted the Master, and said, sitting beside him, "Sir, amongst the givers some
gave much and some gave little; but let it bear much fruit for all alike." Then
he offered the gift. The Master's reply was: "In giving these things to the
Buddha and his followers, you, my lay friends, have done a great deed. In days
of old wise men gave their bounty thus, and thus offered their gifts." Then at
his request he told a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a brahmin family of Kāsi. When he grew up, he was thoroughly educated at
Takkasilā; after which he renounced the world, and took up the religious life,
and with a band of disciples went to live in Himalaya. There he lived a long
time.
Once having need to procure salt and seasoning, he went on pilgrimage through
the country-side, and in course of it he arrived at Benares. There he settled in
the king's park; and on the following morning he and his company went a-begging
to some village outside the gates. The people gave him alms. Next day he sought
alms in the city. The people were all glad to give him their alms. They clubbed
together and made a collection; and provided plenty for the band of anchorites.
After the presentation their spokesman offered his gift with the same words as
above. The Bodhisatta replied, "Friend, where faith 1 is, no gift is small." And
he returned his thanks in these verses following: [86]
"’Tis hard to do as good men do, to give as they can give,
Bad men can hardly imitate the life which good men live.
"And so, when good and evil go to pass away from earth,
The bad are born in hell below, in heaven the good have birth."
This was his thanksgiving. He remained in the place for the four months of the
rains, and then returned to Himalaya; where he practised all the modes of holy
meditation, and without a single interruption continued in them until he joined
the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
When this discourse came to an end the Master identified the Birth: "At that
time," said he, "the Buddha's company was the body of ascetics, and I myself was
their leader."
Footnotes
59:1 Citta-pasādo.
Next: No. 181. Asadisa-Jātaka
p. 59
No. 180.
DUDDADA-JĀTAKA.
"Tis hard to do as good men do," etc.--This story the Master told whilst in
Jetavana, about alms given in common. Two friends at Sāvatthi, young men of good
position, made a collection, providing all the necessaries to give the Buddha
and his followers. They invited them all, provided bounty for seven days, and on
the seventh presented them with all their requisites. The eldest of these
saluted the Master, and said, sitting beside him, "Sir, amongst the givers some
gave much and some gave little; but let it bear much fruit for all alike." Then
he offered the gift. The Master's reply was: "In giving these things to the
Buddha and his followers, you, my lay friends, have done a great deed. In days
of old wise men gave their bounty thus, and thus offered their gifts." Then at
his request he told a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a brahmin family of Kāsi. When he grew up, he was thoroughly educated at
Takkasilā; after which he renounced the world, and took up the religious life,
and with a band of disciples went to live in Himalaya. There he lived a long
time.
Once having need to procure salt and seasoning, he went on pilgrimage through
the country-side, and in course of it he arrived at Benares. There he settled in
the king's park; and on the following morning he and his company went a-begging
to some village outside the gates. The people gave him alms. Next day he sought
alms in the city. The people were all glad to give him their alms. They clubbed
together and made a collection; and provided plenty for the band of anchorites.
After the presentation their spokesman offered his gift with the same words as
above. The Bodhisatta replied, "Friend, where faith 1 is, no gift is small." And
he returned his thanks in these verses following: [86]
"’Tis hard to do as good men do, to give as they can give,
Bad men can hardly imitate the life which good men live.
"And so, when good and evil go to pass away from earth,
The bad are born in hell below, in heaven the good have birth."
This was his thanksgiving. He remained in the place for the four months of the
rains, and then returned to Himalaya; where he practised all the modes of holy
meditation, and without a single interruption continued in them until he joined
the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
When this discourse came to an end the Master identified the Birth: "At that
time," said he, "the Buddha's company was the body of ascetics, and I myself was
their leader."
Footnotes
59:1 Citta-pasādo.
Next: No. 181. Asadisa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Satadhamma Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 179. Satadhamma-Jātaka
p. 57
No. 179.
SATADHAMMA-JĀTAKA.
[82] "What a trifle," etc.--This story the Master told while sojourning in
Jetavana, about the twenty-one unlawful ways of earning a livelihood.
At one time there were a great many Brethren who used to get a living by being
physicians, or runners, doing errands on foot, exchanging alms for alms 1, and
the like, the twenty-one unlawful callings. All this will be set forth in the
Sāketa Birth 2. When the Master found out that they got their living thus, the
said, "Now there are a great many Brethren who get their living in unlawful
ways. Those who get their living thus will not escape birth as goblins or
disembodied spirits; they will become beasts of burden; they will be born in
hell; for their benefit and blessing it is necessary to hold a discourse which
bears its own moral clear and plain." So he summoned the Community together, and
said, "Brethren, you must not win your necessaries by the one-and-twenty
unlawful methods. Food won unlawfully is like a piece of redhot iron, like a
deadly poison. These unlawful methods are blamed and rebuked by disciples of all
Buddhas and Pacceka-Buddhas. For those who eat food gained by unlawful means
there is no laughter and no joy. Food got in this way, in my religion, is like
the leavings of one of the lowest caste. To partake of it, for a disciple of the
Religion of the Good, is like partaking of the leavings of the vilest of
mankind." And with these words, he told all old-world story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as the son of a man of the lowest caste. When he grew up, he took the road for
some purpose, taking for his provision some rice grains in a basket.
At that time there was a young fellow in Benares, named Satadhamma. He was the
son of a magnifico, a Northern brahmin. He also took the road for some purpose,
but neither rice grains nor basket had he. The two met upon the highway. Said
the young brahmin to the other, "What caste are you of?" He replied, "Of the
lowest. And what are you?" [83] "Oh, I am a Northern brahmin." "All right, let
us journey together;" and so together they fared along. Breakfast time came: The
Bodhisatta sat down where there was some nice water, and washed his hands, and
opened his basket. "Will you have some?" said he. "Tut, tut," says the other, "I
want none, you low fellow." "All right,"
p. 58
says the Bodhisatta. Careful to waste none, he put as much as he wanted in a
leaf apart from the rest, fastened up his basket, and ate. Then he took a drink
of water, washed his hands and feet, and picked up the rest of his rice and
food. "Come along, young Sir," says he, and they started off again on their
journey.
All day they tramped along; and at evening they both had a bath in some nice
water. When they came out, the Bodhisatta sat down in a nice place, undid his
parcel, and began to eat. This time he did not offer the other a share. The
young gentleman was tired with walking all day, and hungry to the bottom of his
soul; there he stood, looking on, and thinking, "If he offers me any, I'll take
it." But the other ate away without a word. "This low fellow," thought the young
man, "eats every scrap without a word. Well, I'll beg a piece; I can throw away
the outside, which is defiled, and eat the rest." And so he did; he ate what was
left. As soon as he had eaten, he thought--"How I have disgraced my birth, my
clan, my family! Why, I have eaten the leavings of a low born churl!" Keen
indeed was his remorse; he threw up the food, and blood came with it. "Oh, what
a wicked deed I have done," he wept, "all for the sake of a trifle!" and he went
on in the words of the first stanza: [84]
"What a trifle! and his leavings! given too against his will!
And I am a highborn brahmin! and the stuff has made me ill!"
Thus did the young gentleman make his lamentation; adding, "Why did I do such a
wicked thing just for life's sake?" He plunged into the jungle, and never let
any eye see him again, but there he died forlorn.
_____________________________
When this story was ended, the Master repeated, "Just as the young brahmin,
Brethren, after eating the leavings of a low-caste man, found that neither
laughter nor joy was for him, because he had taken improper food; so whosoever
has embraced this salvation, and gains a livelihood by unlawful means, when he
eats the food and supports his life in any way that is blamed and disapproved by
the Buddha, will find that there is no laughter and no joy for him." Then,
becoming perfectly enlightened, he repeated the second stanza:
"He that lives by being wicked, he that cares not if he sins,
Like the brahmin in the story, has no joy of what he wins."
[85] When this discourse was concluded, the Master declared the Truths and
identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths many Brethren entered
upon the Paths and the Fruit thereof:--saying, "At the time of the story I was
the low-caste man."
Footnotes
57:1 The offence meant is giving a share of alms on one day, and receiving the
like the next day, to save the trouble of seeking alms daily.
57:2 No. 237, which however only refers to no. 68.
Next: No. 180. Duddada-Jātaka
p. 57
No. 179.
SATADHAMMA-JĀTAKA.
[82] "What a trifle," etc.--This story the Master told while sojourning in
Jetavana, about the twenty-one unlawful ways of earning a livelihood.
At one time there were a great many Brethren who used to get a living by being
physicians, or runners, doing errands on foot, exchanging alms for alms 1, and
the like, the twenty-one unlawful callings. All this will be set forth in the
Sāketa Birth 2. When the Master found out that they got their living thus, the
said, "Now there are a great many Brethren who get their living in unlawful
ways. Those who get their living thus will not escape birth as goblins or
disembodied spirits; they will become beasts of burden; they will be born in
hell; for their benefit and blessing it is necessary to hold a discourse which
bears its own moral clear and plain." So he summoned the Community together, and
said, "Brethren, you must not win your necessaries by the one-and-twenty
unlawful methods. Food won unlawfully is like a piece of redhot iron, like a
deadly poison. These unlawful methods are blamed and rebuked by disciples of all
Buddhas and Pacceka-Buddhas. For those who eat food gained by unlawful means
there is no laughter and no joy. Food got in this way, in my religion, is like
the leavings of one of the lowest caste. To partake of it, for a disciple of the
Religion of the Good, is like partaking of the leavings of the vilest of
mankind." And with these words, he told all old-world story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as the son of a man of the lowest caste. When he grew up, he took the road for
some purpose, taking for his provision some rice grains in a basket.
At that time there was a young fellow in Benares, named Satadhamma. He was the
son of a magnifico, a Northern brahmin. He also took the road for some purpose,
but neither rice grains nor basket had he. The two met upon the highway. Said
the young brahmin to the other, "What caste are you of?" He replied, "Of the
lowest. And what are you?" [83] "Oh, I am a Northern brahmin." "All right, let
us journey together;" and so together they fared along. Breakfast time came: The
Bodhisatta sat down where there was some nice water, and washed his hands, and
opened his basket. "Will you have some?" said he. "Tut, tut," says the other, "I
want none, you low fellow." "All right,"
p. 58
says the Bodhisatta. Careful to waste none, he put as much as he wanted in a
leaf apart from the rest, fastened up his basket, and ate. Then he took a drink
of water, washed his hands and feet, and picked up the rest of his rice and
food. "Come along, young Sir," says he, and they started off again on their
journey.
All day they tramped along; and at evening they both had a bath in some nice
water. When they came out, the Bodhisatta sat down in a nice place, undid his
parcel, and began to eat. This time he did not offer the other a share. The
young gentleman was tired with walking all day, and hungry to the bottom of his
soul; there he stood, looking on, and thinking, "If he offers me any, I'll take
it." But the other ate away without a word. "This low fellow," thought the young
man, "eats every scrap without a word. Well, I'll beg a piece; I can throw away
the outside, which is defiled, and eat the rest." And so he did; he ate what was
left. As soon as he had eaten, he thought--"How I have disgraced my birth, my
clan, my family! Why, I have eaten the leavings of a low born churl!" Keen
indeed was his remorse; he threw up the food, and blood came with it. "Oh, what
a wicked deed I have done," he wept, "all for the sake of a trifle!" and he went
on in the words of the first stanza: [84]
"What a trifle! and his leavings! given too against his will!
And I am a highborn brahmin! and the stuff has made me ill!"
Thus did the young gentleman make his lamentation; adding, "Why did I do such a
wicked thing just for life's sake?" He plunged into the jungle, and never let
any eye see him again, but there he died forlorn.
_____________________________
When this story was ended, the Master repeated, "Just as the young brahmin,
Brethren, after eating the leavings of a low-caste man, found that neither
laughter nor joy was for him, because he had taken improper food; so whosoever
has embraced this salvation, and gains a livelihood by unlawful means, when he
eats the food and supports his life in any way that is blamed and disapproved by
the Buddha, will find that there is no laughter and no joy for him." Then,
becoming perfectly enlightened, he repeated the second stanza:
"He that lives by being wicked, he that cares not if he sins,
Like the brahmin in the story, has no joy of what he wins."
[85] When this discourse was concluded, the Master declared the Truths and
identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths many Brethren entered
upon the Paths and the Fruit thereof:--saying, "At the time of the story I was
the low-caste man."
Footnotes
57:1 The offence meant is giving a share of alms on one day, and receiving the
like the next day, to save the trouble of seeking alms daily.
57:2 No. 237, which however only refers to no. 68.
Next: No. 180. Duddada-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kacchapa Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 178. Kacchapa-Jātaka
p. 55
No. 178.
KACCHAPA-JĀTAKA.
"Here was I born," etc.--This story the Master told in Jetavana, how a man got
rid of malaria 1.
It is said that malarial fever once broke out in a family of Sāvatthi. The
parents said to their son: "Don't stay in this house, son; make a hole in the
wall and escape somewhere, and save your life 2. Then come back again--in this
place a great hoard is buried; dig it up, and restore the family fortunes, and a
happy life to you!" The young fellow did as he was bid; he broke through the
wall, and made his escape. When his complaint was cured, he returned and dug the
treasure up, with which he set up his household.
One day, laden with oil and ghee, clothes and raiment, and other offerings, he
repaired to Jetavana, and greeted the Master, and took his seat. The Master
entered into converse with him. "We hear," said he, "that you had cholera in
your house. How did you escape it?" He told the Master all about it. Said he,
"In days of yore, as now, friend layman, when danger arose, there were people
who were too fond of home to leave it, and they perished thereby; while those
who were not too fond of it, but departed elsewhere, saved themselves alive."
And then at his request the Master told an old-world story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a village as a potter's son. He plied the potter's trade, and had a wife
and family to support.
At that time there lay a great natural lake close by the great river of Benares.
When there was much water, river and lake were one; but when the water was low,
[80] they were apart. Now fish and tortoises know by instinct when the year will
be rainy and when there will be a drought. So at the time of our story the fish
and tortoises which lived in that lake knew there would be a drought; and when
the two were one water, they swam out of the lake into the river. But there was
one Tortoise that would not go into the river, because, said he, "here I was
born, and here I have grown up, and here is my parents' home: leave it I
cannot!"
p. 56
Then in the hot season the water all dried up. He dug a hole and buried himself,
just in the place where the Bodhisatta was used to come for clay. There the
Bodhisatta came to get some clay; with a big spade he dug down, till he cracked
the tortoise' shell, turning him out on the ground as though he were a large
piece of clay. In his agony the creature thought, "Here I am, dying, all because
I was too fond of my home to leave it!" and in the words of these verses
following he made his moan:
"Here was I born, and here I lived; my refuge was the clay;
And now the clay has played me false in a most grievous way;
Thee, thee I call, O Bhaggava 1; hear what I have to say!
"Go where thou canst find happiness, where’er the place may be;
Forest or village, there the wise both home and birthplace see;
Go where there's life; nor stay at home for death to master thee."
[81] So he went on and on, talking to the Bodhisatta, till he died. The
Bodhisatta picked him up, and collecting all the villagers addressed them thus:
"Look at this tortoise. When the other fish and tortoises went into the great
river, he was too fond of home to go with them, and buried himself in the place
where I get my clay. Then as I was digging for clay, I broke his shell with my
big spade, and turned him out on the ground in the belief that he was a large
lump of clay. Then he called to mind what he had done, lamented his fate in two
verses of poetry, and expired. So you see he came to his end because he was too
fond of his home. Take care not to be like this tortoise. Don't say to
yourselves, 'I have sight, I have hearing, I have smell, I have taste, I have
touch, I have a son, I have a daughter, I have numbers of men and maids for my
service, I have precious gold'; do not cleave to these things with craving and
desire. Each being passes through three stages of existence 2." Thus did he
exhort the crowd with all a Buddha's skill. The discourse was bruited abroad all
over India, and for full seven thousand years it was remembered. All the crowd
abode by his exhortation; and gave alms and did good until at last they went to
swell the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had made an end, he declared the Truths, and identified the
Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the young man was established in the
Fruit of the First Path:--saying, "Ānanda was then the Tortoise, and the Potter
was I thyself."
Footnotes
55:1 ahivātarogo occurs in the Comm. on Therīgāthā (P. T. S. 1893), p. 120, line
20, but no hint as to its meaning is given. The word should mean,
"snake-wind-disease," perhaps malarial fever, which e.g. in the Terai is
believed to be due to snake's breath. Or is it possible that ahi, which may mean
the navel, could here be the bowels, and some such disease as cholera be meant?
55:2 It is noteworthy that here the same means is used to outwit the spirit of
disease as is often taken to outwit the ghosts of the dead; who might be
supposed to guard the door, but not the parts of the house where there was no
outlet.
56:1 "Addressing the potter." Schol.
56:2 World of Sense, World of Form, World of formless Existence.
Next: No. 179. Satadhamma-Jātaka
p. 55
No. 178.
KACCHAPA-JĀTAKA.
"Here was I born," etc.--This story the Master told in Jetavana, how a man got
rid of malaria 1.
It is said that malarial fever once broke out in a family of Sāvatthi. The
parents said to their son: "Don't stay in this house, son; make a hole in the
wall and escape somewhere, and save your life 2. Then come back again--in this
place a great hoard is buried; dig it up, and restore the family fortunes, and a
happy life to you!" The young fellow did as he was bid; he broke through the
wall, and made his escape. When his complaint was cured, he returned and dug the
treasure up, with which he set up his household.
One day, laden with oil and ghee, clothes and raiment, and other offerings, he
repaired to Jetavana, and greeted the Master, and took his seat. The Master
entered into converse with him. "We hear," said he, "that you had cholera in
your house. How did you escape it?" He told the Master all about it. Said he,
"In days of yore, as now, friend layman, when danger arose, there were people
who were too fond of home to leave it, and they perished thereby; while those
who were not too fond of it, but departed elsewhere, saved themselves alive."
And then at his request the Master told an old-world story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a village as a potter's son. He plied the potter's trade, and had a wife
and family to support.
At that time there lay a great natural lake close by the great river of Benares.
When there was much water, river and lake were one; but when the water was low,
[80] they were apart. Now fish and tortoises know by instinct when the year will
be rainy and when there will be a drought. So at the time of our story the fish
and tortoises which lived in that lake knew there would be a drought; and when
the two were one water, they swam out of the lake into the river. But there was
one Tortoise that would not go into the river, because, said he, "here I was
born, and here I have grown up, and here is my parents' home: leave it I
cannot!"
p. 56
Then in the hot season the water all dried up. He dug a hole and buried himself,
just in the place where the Bodhisatta was used to come for clay. There the
Bodhisatta came to get some clay; with a big spade he dug down, till he cracked
the tortoise' shell, turning him out on the ground as though he were a large
piece of clay. In his agony the creature thought, "Here I am, dying, all because
I was too fond of my home to leave it!" and in the words of these verses
following he made his moan:
"Here was I born, and here I lived; my refuge was the clay;
And now the clay has played me false in a most grievous way;
Thee, thee I call, O Bhaggava 1; hear what I have to say!
"Go where thou canst find happiness, where’er the place may be;
Forest or village, there the wise both home and birthplace see;
Go where there's life; nor stay at home for death to master thee."
[81] So he went on and on, talking to the Bodhisatta, till he died. The
Bodhisatta picked him up, and collecting all the villagers addressed them thus:
"Look at this tortoise. When the other fish and tortoises went into the great
river, he was too fond of home to go with them, and buried himself in the place
where I get my clay. Then as I was digging for clay, I broke his shell with my
big spade, and turned him out on the ground in the belief that he was a large
lump of clay. Then he called to mind what he had done, lamented his fate in two
verses of poetry, and expired. So you see he came to his end because he was too
fond of his home. Take care not to be like this tortoise. Don't say to
yourselves, 'I have sight, I have hearing, I have smell, I have taste, I have
touch, I have a son, I have a daughter, I have numbers of men and maids for my
service, I have precious gold'; do not cleave to these things with craving and
desire. Each being passes through three stages of existence 2." Thus did he
exhort the crowd with all a Buddha's skill. The discourse was bruited abroad all
over India, and for full seven thousand years it was remembered. All the crowd
abode by his exhortation; and gave alms and did good until at last they went to
swell the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had made an end, he declared the Truths, and identified the
Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the young man was established in the
Fruit of the First Path:--saying, "Ānanda was then the Tortoise, and the Potter
was I thyself."
Footnotes
55:1 ahivātarogo occurs in the Comm. on Therīgāthā (P. T. S. 1893), p. 120, line
20, but no hint as to its meaning is given. The word should mean,
"snake-wind-disease," perhaps malarial fever, which e.g. in the Terai is
believed to be due to snake's breath. Or is it possible that ahi, which may mean
the navel, could here be the bowels, and some such disease as cholera be meant?
55:2 It is noteworthy that here the same means is used to outwit the spirit of
disease as is often taken to outwit the ghosts of the dead; who might be
supposed to guard the door, but not the parts of the house where there was no
outlet.
56:1 "Addressing the potter." Schol.
56:2 World of Sense, World of Form, World of formless Existence.
Next: No. 179. Satadhamma-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Tinduka Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 177. Tiṇḍuka-Jātaka
p. 53
No. 177.
TIṆḌUKA-JĀTAKA.
"All around us see them stand," etc.--This is a story told by the Master whilst
at Jetavana, about perfect knowledge. As in the Mahābodhi Birth 1, and the
Ummagga Birth 2, on hearing his own knowledge praised, he remarked, "Not this
once only is the Buddha wise, but wise he was before and fertile in all
resource;" and told the following old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as a Monkey, and with a troop of eighty thousand monkeys he lived in Himalaya.
Not far off was a village, sometimes inhabited and sometimes empty. And in the
midst of this village was a tiṇḍuka 3 tree, with sweet fruit, covered with twigs
and branches. When the place was empty, all the monkeys used to go thither and
eat the fruit.
Once, in the fruit time, the village was full of people, a bamboo palisade set
about it, and the gates guarded. And this tree [77] stood with all its boughs
bending beneath the weight of the fruit. The monkeys began to wonder: "There's
such and such a village, where we used to get fruit to eat. I wonder has that
tree fruit upon it or no; are the people there or no?" At last they sent a scout
monkey to spy. He found that there was fruit on the tree, and the village was
crammed with people. When the monkeys heard that there was fruit on the tree,
they determined to get that sweet fruit to eat; and waxing bold, a crowd of them
went and told their chief. The chief asked was the village full or empty; full,
they said. "Then you must not go," said he, "because men are very deceitful."
"But, Sire, we'll go at midnight, when everybody is fast asleep, and then eat!"
So this great company obtained leave o great their chief, and came down from the
mountains, and waited on a hard by until the people retired to rest; in the
middle watch, when people were asleep, they climbed the tree and began eating of
the fruit.
A man had to get up in the night for some necessary purpose; he went out into
the village, and there he saw the monkeys. At once he gave the alarm; out the
people came, armed with bow and quiver, or holding any
p. 54
sort of weapon that came to hand, sticks, or lumps of earth, and surrounded the
tree; "when dawn comes," thought they, "we have them!"
The eighty thousand monkeys saw these people, and were scared to death. Thought
they, "No help have we but our Chief only;" so to him they came, and recited the
first stanza:
"All around us see them stand, warriors armed with bow and quiver,
All around us, sword in hand: who is there who can deliver?"
[78] At this the monkey Chief answered: "Fear not; human beings have plenty to
do. It is the middle watch now; there they stand, thinking--'We'll kill them!'
but we will find some other business to hinder this business of theirs." And to
console the Monkeys he repeated the second stanza:
"Men have many things to do; something will disperse the meeting;
See what still remains for you; eat, while fruit is left for eating."
The Great Being comforted the monkey troop. If they had not had this crumb of
comfort they would have broken their hearts and perished. When the Great Being
had consoled the monkeys, he cried, "Assemble all the monkeys together!" But in
assembling them, there was one they could not find, his nephew, a monkey named
Senaka. So they told him that Senaka was not among the troop. "If Senaka is not
here," said he, "have no fear; he will find a way to help you."
Now at the time when the troop sallied forth, Senaka had been asleep. Later he
awoke, and could not see any body about. So he followed their tracks, and by and
bye he saw all the people hastening up. "Some danger for our troop," thought he.
Just then he spied, in a hut on the outskirts of the village, an old woman, fast
asleep, before a lighted fire. And making as though he were a village child
going out to the fields, Senaka seized a firebrand, [79] and standing well to
windward, set light to the village. Then did every man leave the monkeys, and
hurried up to quench the fire. So the monkeys scampered away, and each brought
one fruit for Senaka.
_____________________________
When this discourse came to an end, the Master identified the Birth: "Mahānāma
Sakka was the nephew Senaka of those days; Buddha's followers were the monkey
troop; and I myself was their Chief."
Footnotes
53:1 No. 528.
53:2 No. 538 (Westergaard).
53:3 Diospyros Embryopteris (Childers).
Next: No. 178. Kacchapa-Jātaka
p. 53
No. 177.
TIṆḌUKA-JĀTAKA.
"All around us see them stand," etc.--This is a story told by the Master whilst
at Jetavana, about perfect knowledge. As in the Mahābodhi Birth 1, and the
Ummagga Birth 2, on hearing his own knowledge praised, he remarked, "Not this
once only is the Buddha wise, but wise he was before and fertile in all
resource;" and told the following old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as a Monkey, and with a troop of eighty thousand monkeys he lived in Himalaya.
Not far off was a village, sometimes inhabited and sometimes empty. And in the
midst of this village was a tiṇḍuka 3 tree, with sweet fruit, covered with twigs
and branches. When the place was empty, all the monkeys used to go thither and
eat the fruit.
Once, in the fruit time, the village was full of people, a bamboo palisade set
about it, and the gates guarded. And this tree [77] stood with all its boughs
bending beneath the weight of the fruit. The monkeys began to wonder: "There's
such and such a village, where we used to get fruit to eat. I wonder has that
tree fruit upon it or no; are the people there or no?" At last they sent a scout
monkey to spy. He found that there was fruit on the tree, and the village was
crammed with people. When the monkeys heard that there was fruit on the tree,
they determined to get that sweet fruit to eat; and waxing bold, a crowd of them
went and told their chief. The chief asked was the village full or empty; full,
they said. "Then you must not go," said he, "because men are very deceitful."
"But, Sire, we'll go at midnight, when everybody is fast asleep, and then eat!"
So this great company obtained leave o great their chief, and came down from the
mountains, and waited on a hard by until the people retired to rest; in the
middle watch, when people were asleep, they climbed the tree and began eating of
the fruit.
A man had to get up in the night for some necessary purpose; he went out into
the village, and there he saw the monkeys. At once he gave the alarm; out the
people came, armed with bow and quiver, or holding any
p. 54
sort of weapon that came to hand, sticks, or lumps of earth, and surrounded the
tree; "when dawn comes," thought they, "we have them!"
The eighty thousand monkeys saw these people, and were scared to death. Thought
they, "No help have we but our Chief only;" so to him they came, and recited the
first stanza:
"All around us see them stand, warriors armed with bow and quiver,
All around us, sword in hand: who is there who can deliver?"
[78] At this the monkey Chief answered: "Fear not; human beings have plenty to
do. It is the middle watch now; there they stand, thinking--'We'll kill them!'
but we will find some other business to hinder this business of theirs." And to
console the Monkeys he repeated the second stanza:
"Men have many things to do; something will disperse the meeting;
See what still remains for you; eat, while fruit is left for eating."
The Great Being comforted the monkey troop. If they had not had this crumb of
comfort they would have broken their hearts and perished. When the Great Being
had consoled the monkeys, he cried, "Assemble all the monkeys together!" But in
assembling them, there was one they could not find, his nephew, a monkey named
Senaka. So they told him that Senaka was not among the troop. "If Senaka is not
here," said he, "have no fear; he will find a way to help you."
Now at the time when the troop sallied forth, Senaka had been asleep. Later he
awoke, and could not see any body about. So he followed their tracks, and by and
bye he saw all the people hastening up. "Some danger for our troop," thought he.
Just then he spied, in a hut on the outskirts of the village, an old woman, fast
asleep, before a lighted fire. And making as though he were a village child
going out to the fields, Senaka seized a firebrand, [79] and standing well to
windward, set light to the village. Then did every man leave the monkeys, and
hurried up to quench the fire. So the monkeys scampered away, and each brought
one fruit for Senaka.
_____________________________
When this discourse came to an end, the Master identified the Birth: "Mahānāma
Sakka was the nephew Senaka of those days; Buddha's followers were the monkey
troop; and I myself was their Chief."
Footnotes
53:1 No. 528.
53:2 No. 538 (Westergaard).
53:3 Diospyros Embryopteris (Childers).
Next: No. 178. Kacchapa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kalaya-Mutthi Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 176. Kalāya-Muṭṭhi-Jātaka
No. 176.
KALĀYA-MUṬṬHI-JĀTAKA.
[74] "A foolish monkey," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a
king of Kosala.
One rainy season, disaffection broke out on his borders. The troops stationed
there, after two or three battles in which they failed to conquer their
adversaries, sent a message to the king. Spite of the season, spite of the rains
he took the field, and encamped before Jetavana Park. Then he began to ponder.
"’Tis a bad season for an expedition; every crevice and hollow is full of water;
the road is heavy: I'll go visit the Master. He will be sure to ask 'whither
away'; then I'll tell him. It is not only in things of the future life that our
Master protects me, but he protects in the things which we now see. So if my
going is not to prosper, he will say 'It is a bad time to go, Sire'; but if I am
to prosper, he will say nothing." So into the Park he came, and after greeting
the Master sat down on one side.
"Whence come you, O King," asked the Master, "at this unseasonable hour?" "Sir,"
he replied, "I am on my way to quell a border rising; and I come first to bid
you farewell." To this the Master said, "So it happened before, that mighty
monarchs, before setting out for war, have listened to the word of the wise, and
turned back from an unseasonable expedition." Then, at the king's request, he
told an old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, he had a Councillor
who was his right-hand man and gave him advice in things spiritual and temporal.
There was a rising on the frontier, and the
p. 52
troops there stationed sent the king a letter. The king started, rainy season
though it was, and formed a camp in his park. The Bodhisatta stood before the
king. At that moment the people had steamed some peas for the horses, and poured
them out into a trough. One of the monkeys that lived in the park jumped down
from a tree, filled his mouth and hands with the peas, then up again, and
sitting down in the tree he began to eat. As he ate, one pea fell from his hand
upon the ground. Down dropped at once all the peas from his hands and mouth,
[75] and down from the tree he cause, to hunt for the lost pea. But that pea he
could not find; so he climbed up his tree again, and sat still, very glum,
looking like some one who had lost a thousand in some lawsuit.
The king observed how the monkey had done, and pointed it out to the Bodhisatta.
"Friend, what do you think of that?" he asked. To which the Bodhisatta made
answer: "King, this is what fools of little wit are wont to do; they spend a
pound to win a penny;" and he went on to repeat the first stanza:
"A foolish monkey, living in the trees,
O king, when both his hands were full of peas,
Has thrown them all away to look for one:
There is no wisdom, Sire, in such as these."
Then the Bodhisatta approached the king, and addressing him again, repeated the
second stanza:
"Such are we, O mighty monarch, such all those that greedy be;
Losing much to gain a little, like the monkey and the pea."
[76] On hearing this address the king turned and went straight back to Benares.
And the outlaws hearing that the king had set forth from his capital to make
mincemeat of his enemies, hurried away from the borders.
_____________________________
At the time when this story was told, the outlaws ran away in just the sane
fashion. The king, after listening to the Master's utterances, rose and took his
leave, and went back to Sāvatthi.
The Master, after this discourse was at an end, identified the Birth: "In those
days Ānanda was the king, and the wise councillor was I myself."
Next: No. 177. Tiṇḍuka-Jātaka
No. 176.
KALĀYA-MUṬṬHI-JĀTAKA.
[74] "A foolish monkey," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a
king of Kosala.
One rainy season, disaffection broke out on his borders. The troops stationed
there, after two or three battles in which they failed to conquer their
adversaries, sent a message to the king. Spite of the season, spite of the rains
he took the field, and encamped before Jetavana Park. Then he began to ponder.
"’Tis a bad season for an expedition; every crevice and hollow is full of water;
the road is heavy: I'll go visit the Master. He will be sure to ask 'whither
away'; then I'll tell him. It is not only in things of the future life that our
Master protects me, but he protects in the things which we now see. So if my
going is not to prosper, he will say 'It is a bad time to go, Sire'; but if I am
to prosper, he will say nothing." So into the Park he came, and after greeting
the Master sat down on one side.
"Whence come you, O King," asked the Master, "at this unseasonable hour?" "Sir,"
he replied, "I am on my way to quell a border rising; and I come first to bid
you farewell." To this the Master said, "So it happened before, that mighty
monarchs, before setting out for war, have listened to the word of the wise, and
turned back from an unseasonable expedition." Then, at the king's request, he
told an old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, he had a Councillor
who was his right-hand man and gave him advice in things spiritual and temporal.
There was a rising on the frontier, and the
p. 52
troops there stationed sent the king a letter. The king started, rainy season
though it was, and formed a camp in his park. The Bodhisatta stood before the
king. At that moment the people had steamed some peas for the horses, and poured
them out into a trough. One of the monkeys that lived in the park jumped down
from a tree, filled his mouth and hands with the peas, then up again, and
sitting down in the tree he began to eat. As he ate, one pea fell from his hand
upon the ground. Down dropped at once all the peas from his hands and mouth,
[75] and down from the tree he cause, to hunt for the lost pea. But that pea he
could not find; so he climbed up his tree again, and sat still, very glum,
looking like some one who had lost a thousand in some lawsuit.
The king observed how the monkey had done, and pointed it out to the Bodhisatta.
"Friend, what do you think of that?" he asked. To which the Bodhisatta made
answer: "King, this is what fools of little wit are wont to do; they spend a
pound to win a penny;" and he went on to repeat the first stanza:
"A foolish monkey, living in the trees,
O king, when both his hands were full of peas,
Has thrown them all away to look for one:
There is no wisdom, Sire, in such as these."
Then the Bodhisatta approached the king, and addressing him again, repeated the
second stanza:
"Such are we, O mighty monarch, such all those that greedy be;
Losing much to gain a little, like the monkey and the pea."
[76] On hearing this address the king turned and went straight back to Benares.
And the outlaws hearing that the king had set forth from his capital to make
mincemeat of his enemies, hurried away from the borders.
_____________________________
At the time when this story was told, the outlaws ran away in just the sane
fashion. The king, after listening to the Master's utterances, rose and took his
leave, and went back to Sāvatthi.
The Master, after this discourse was at an end, identified the Birth: "In those
days Ānanda was the king, and the wise councillor was I myself."
Next: No. 177. Tiṇḍuka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Adiccupatthana Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 175. Ādiccupaṭṭhāna-Jātaka
p. 50
No. 175.
ĀDICCUPAṬṬHĀNA-JĀTAKA.
"There is no tribe," etc.--This is a story told by the Master in Jetavana, about
a rogue.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a brahmin family of Kāsi. Coming of years, he went to Takkasilā, and
there completed his education. Then he embraced the religious life, cultivated
the Faculties and the Attainments, and becoming the preceptor of a large band of
pupils he spent his life in Himalaya.
There for a long time he abode; until once having to buy salt and seasoning, he
came down from the highlands to a border village, where he stayed in a leaf-hut.
When they were absent seeking alms, a mischievous monkey used to enter the
hermitage, and turn everything upside down, spill the water out of the jars,
smash the jugs, and finish by making a mess in the cell where the fire was.
The rains over, the anchorites thought of returning, and took leave of the
villagers; "for now," they thought, "the flowers and fruit are ripening on the
mountains." "To-morrow," was the answer, "we will come to your dwelling with our
alms; you shall eat before you go." So next day they brought thither plenty of
food, solid and liquid. The monkey thought to himself, "I'll trick these people
and cajole them into giving me some food too." So he put on the air of a holy
man seeking alms, [73] and close by the anchorites he stood, worshipping the
sun. When the people saw him, they thought, "Holy are they who live with the
holy," and repeated the first stanza:
"There is no tribe of animals but bath its virtuous one:
See how this wretched monkey here stands worshipping the sun!"
After this fashion the people praised our monkey's virtues. But the Bodhisatta,
observing it, replied, "You don't know the ways of a mischievous monkey, or you
would not praise one who little deserves praise;" adding the second stanza:
"You praise this creature's character because you know him not;
He has defiled the sacred fire, and broke each waterpot."
p. 51
When the people heard what a rascally monkey it was, seizing sticks and clods
they pelted him, and gave their alms to the Brethren. The sages returned to
Himalaya; and without once interrupting their mystic ecstasy they came at last
to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
At the end of this discourse, the Master identified the Birth: "This hypocrite
was in those days the Monkey; the Buddha's followers were the company of sages;
and their leader was I myself."
Next: No. 176. Kalāya-Muṭṭhi-Jātaka
p. 50
No. 175.
ĀDICCUPAṬṬHĀNA-JĀTAKA.
"There is no tribe," etc.--This is a story told by the Master in Jetavana, about
a rogue.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a brahmin family of Kāsi. Coming of years, he went to Takkasilā, and
there completed his education. Then he embraced the religious life, cultivated
the Faculties and the Attainments, and becoming the preceptor of a large band of
pupils he spent his life in Himalaya.
There for a long time he abode; until once having to buy salt and seasoning, he
came down from the highlands to a border village, where he stayed in a leaf-hut.
When they were absent seeking alms, a mischievous monkey used to enter the
hermitage, and turn everything upside down, spill the water out of the jars,
smash the jugs, and finish by making a mess in the cell where the fire was.
The rains over, the anchorites thought of returning, and took leave of the
villagers; "for now," they thought, "the flowers and fruit are ripening on the
mountains." "To-morrow," was the answer, "we will come to your dwelling with our
alms; you shall eat before you go." So next day they brought thither plenty of
food, solid and liquid. The monkey thought to himself, "I'll trick these people
and cajole them into giving me some food too." So he put on the air of a holy
man seeking alms, [73] and close by the anchorites he stood, worshipping the
sun. When the people saw him, they thought, "Holy are they who live with the
holy," and repeated the first stanza:
"There is no tribe of animals but bath its virtuous one:
See how this wretched monkey here stands worshipping the sun!"
After this fashion the people praised our monkey's virtues. But the Bodhisatta,
observing it, replied, "You don't know the ways of a mischievous monkey, or you
would not praise one who little deserves praise;" adding the second stanza:
"You praise this creature's character because you know him not;
He has defiled the sacred fire, and broke each waterpot."
p. 51
When the people heard what a rascally monkey it was, seizing sticks and clods
they pelted him, and gave their alms to the Brethren. The sages returned to
Himalaya; and without once interrupting their mystic ecstasy they came at last
to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
At the end of this discourse, the Master identified the Birth: "This hypocrite
was in those days the Monkey; the Buddha's followers were the company of sages;
and their leader was I myself."
Next: No. 176. Kalāya-Muṭṭhi-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Dubhiya-Makkata Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 174. Dūbhiya-Makkaṭa-Jātaka
No. 174.
DŪBHIYA-MAKKAṬA-JĀTAKA.
[70] "Plenty of water," etc.--This story the Master told in his sojourn at
Veḷuvana, about Devadatta. One day it happened that the Brethren were talking in
the Hall of Truth about Devadatta's ingratitude and treachery to his friends,
when the Master broke in, "Not this once only, Brethren, has Devadatta been
ungrateful and treacherous to his own friends. He was just the same before."
Then he told them an old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a brahmin family in a certain Kāsi village, and when he grew of age,
married and settled down. Now in those clays there was a certain deep well by
the highway in Kāsi-land, which had no way
p. 49
down to it. The people who passed by that way, to win merit, used to draw water
by a long rope and a bucket, and fill a trough for the animals; thus they gave
the animals water to drink. All around lay a mighty forest, wherein troops of
monkeys dwelt.
It happened by a chance that for two or three days the supply of water ceased
which wayfarers used to draw; and the creatures could get nothing to drink. A
Monkey, tormented with thirst, walked up and down by the well looking for water.
Now the Bodhisatta came that way on some errand, drew water for himself, drank
it, and washed his hands; then he noticed our Monkey. Seeing how thirsty he was,
the traveller drew water from the well and filled the trough for him. Then he
sat down under a tree, to see what the creature would do.
The Monkey drank, sat down near, and pulled a monkey-grimace, to frighten the
Bodhisatta. "Ah, you bad monkey!" said he, at this--"when you were thirsty and
miserable, [71] I gave you plenty of water; and now you make monkey-faces at me.
Well, well, help a rascal and you waste your pains." And he repeated the first
stanza:
"Plenty of water did I give to you
When you were chafing hot and thirsty too:
Now full of mischief you sit chattering,--
With wicked people best have nought to do."
Then this spite-friend monkey replied, "I suppose you think that's all I can do.
Now I'll drop something on your head before I go." Then, repeating the second
stanza, he went on--
"A well-conducted monkey who did ever hear or see
I leave my droppings on your head; for such our manners he."
As soon as he heard this the Bodhisatta got up to go. But at the very instant
this Monkey from the branch where he sat dropt it like a festoon upon his head;
and then made off into the forest shrieking. The Bodhisatta washed, and went his
way.
_____________________________
[72] When the Master had ended this discourse, after ṣaying "It is not only now
that Devadatta is so, but in former days also he would not acknowledge a
kindness which I showed him," he identified the Birth: "Devadatta was the Monkey
then, and the brahmin was I myself."
Footnotes
48:1 Gotama Buddha's son.
Next: No. 175. Ādiccupaṭṭhāna-Jātaka
No. 174.
DŪBHIYA-MAKKAṬA-JĀTAKA.
[70] "Plenty of water," etc.--This story the Master told in his sojourn at
Veḷuvana, about Devadatta. One day it happened that the Brethren were talking in
the Hall of Truth about Devadatta's ingratitude and treachery to his friends,
when the Master broke in, "Not this once only, Brethren, has Devadatta been
ungrateful and treacherous to his own friends. He was just the same before."
Then he told them an old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a brahmin family in a certain Kāsi village, and when he grew of age,
married and settled down. Now in those clays there was a certain deep well by
the highway in Kāsi-land, which had no way
p. 49
down to it. The people who passed by that way, to win merit, used to draw water
by a long rope and a bucket, and fill a trough for the animals; thus they gave
the animals water to drink. All around lay a mighty forest, wherein troops of
monkeys dwelt.
It happened by a chance that for two or three days the supply of water ceased
which wayfarers used to draw; and the creatures could get nothing to drink. A
Monkey, tormented with thirst, walked up and down by the well looking for water.
Now the Bodhisatta came that way on some errand, drew water for himself, drank
it, and washed his hands; then he noticed our Monkey. Seeing how thirsty he was,
the traveller drew water from the well and filled the trough for him. Then he
sat down under a tree, to see what the creature would do.
The Monkey drank, sat down near, and pulled a monkey-grimace, to frighten the
Bodhisatta. "Ah, you bad monkey!" said he, at this--"when you were thirsty and
miserable, [71] I gave you plenty of water; and now you make monkey-faces at me.
Well, well, help a rascal and you waste your pains." And he repeated the first
stanza:
"Plenty of water did I give to you
When you were chafing hot and thirsty too:
Now full of mischief you sit chattering,--
With wicked people best have nought to do."
Then this spite-friend monkey replied, "I suppose you think that's all I can do.
Now I'll drop something on your head before I go." Then, repeating the second
stanza, he went on--
"A well-conducted monkey who did ever hear or see
I leave my droppings on your head; for such our manners he."
As soon as he heard this the Bodhisatta got up to go. But at the very instant
this Monkey from the branch where he sat dropt it like a festoon upon his head;
and then made off into the forest shrieking. The Bodhisatta washed, and went his
way.
_____________________________
[72] When the Master had ended this discourse, after ṣaying "It is not only now
that Devadatta is so, but in former days also he would not acknowledge a
kindness which I showed him," he identified the Birth: "Devadatta was the Monkey
then, and the brahmin was I myself."
Footnotes
48:1 Gotama Buddha's son.
Next: No. 175. Ādiccupaṭṭhāna-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Makkata Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 173. Makkaṭa-Jātaka
p. 47
No. 173.
MAKKAṬA-JĀTAKA.
[68] "Father, see! a poor old fellow," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
staying in Jetavana, about a rogue.--The circumstances will be explained in the
Uddāla Birth 1, Book xiv. Here too the Master said, "Brethren, not this once
only has the fellow turned out a rogue; in days of yore, when he was a monkey,
he played tricks for the sake of a fire." And he told a tale of days long gone
by.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a brahmin family in a village of Kāsi.. When he came of years, he
received his education at Takkasilā, and settled down in life.
His lady in time bore him a son; and when the child could just run to and fro,
she died. The husband performed her obsequies, and then, said he, "What is home
to me now? I and my son will live the life of hermits." Leaving his friends and
kindred in tears, he took the lad to the Himalaya, became a religious anchorite,
and lived on the fruits and roots which the forest yielded.
On a day during the rainy season, when there had been a downpour, he kindled
some sticks, and lay down on a pallet, warming himself at the fire. And his son
sat beside him chafing his feet.
Now a wild Monkey, miserable with cold, spied the fire in the leaf-hut of our
hermit. "Now," thought he, "suppose I go in: they'll cry out Monkey! Monkey! and
beat me back: I shan't get a chance of warming myself.--I have it!" he cried.
"I'll get an ascetic's dress, and get inside by a trick!" So he put on the bark
dress of a dead ascetic, lifted his basket and crooked stick, and took his stand
by the hut door, where he crouched down beside a palm tree. The lad saw him, and
cried to his father (not knowing he was a monkey) "Here's an old hermit, sure
enough, miserably cold, come to warm himself at the fire." [69] Then he
addressed his father in the words of the first stanza, begging him to let the
poor fellow in to warm himself:
"Father, see! a poor old fellow huddled by a palmtree there!
Here we have a hut to live in; let us give the man a share."
p. 48
When the Bodhisatta heard this, up he got and went to the door But when he saw
the creature was only a monkey, he said, "My son, men have no such face as that;
’tis a monkey, and he must not be asked in here." Then he repeated the second
stanza:
"He would but defile our dwelling if he came inside the door;
Such a face--’tis easy telling--no good brahmin ever bore."
The Bodhisatta seized a brand, crying--"What do you want there?"--threw it at
him, and drove him away. Mr Monkey dropt his bark garments, sprang up a tree,
and buried himself in the forest.
Then the Bodhisatta cultivated the Four Excellences until he came unto Brahma's
heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth: "This tricky
Brother was the Monkey of those days; Rāhula 1 was the hermit's son, and I
myself was the hermit." '
Footnotes
47:1 No. 487.
Next: No. 174. Dūbhiya-Makkaṭa-Jātaka
p. 47
No. 173.
MAKKAṬA-JĀTAKA.
[68] "Father, see! a poor old fellow," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
staying in Jetavana, about a rogue.--The circumstances will be explained in the
Uddāla Birth 1, Book xiv. Here too the Master said, "Brethren, not this once
only has the fellow turned out a rogue; in days of yore, when he was a monkey,
he played tricks for the sake of a fire." And he told a tale of days long gone
by.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born in a brahmin family in a village of Kāsi.. When he came of years, he
received his education at Takkasilā, and settled down in life.
His lady in time bore him a son; and when the child could just run to and fro,
she died. The husband performed her obsequies, and then, said he, "What is home
to me now? I and my son will live the life of hermits." Leaving his friends and
kindred in tears, he took the lad to the Himalaya, became a religious anchorite,
and lived on the fruits and roots which the forest yielded.
On a day during the rainy season, when there had been a downpour, he kindled
some sticks, and lay down on a pallet, warming himself at the fire. And his son
sat beside him chafing his feet.
Now a wild Monkey, miserable with cold, spied the fire in the leaf-hut of our
hermit. "Now," thought he, "suppose I go in: they'll cry out Monkey! Monkey! and
beat me back: I shan't get a chance of warming myself.--I have it!" he cried.
"I'll get an ascetic's dress, and get inside by a trick!" So he put on the bark
dress of a dead ascetic, lifted his basket and crooked stick, and took his stand
by the hut door, where he crouched down beside a palm tree. The lad saw him, and
cried to his father (not knowing he was a monkey) "Here's an old hermit, sure
enough, miserably cold, come to warm himself at the fire." [69] Then he
addressed his father in the words of the first stanza, begging him to let the
poor fellow in to warm himself:
"Father, see! a poor old fellow huddled by a palmtree there!
Here we have a hut to live in; let us give the man a share."
p. 48
When the Bodhisatta heard this, up he got and went to the door But when he saw
the creature was only a monkey, he said, "My son, men have no such face as that;
’tis a monkey, and he must not be asked in here." Then he repeated the second
stanza:
"He would but defile our dwelling if he came inside the door;
Such a face--’tis easy telling--no good brahmin ever bore."
The Bodhisatta seized a brand, crying--"What do you want there?"--threw it at
him, and drove him away. Mr Monkey dropt his bark garments, sprang up a tree,
and buried himself in the forest.
Then the Bodhisatta cultivated the Four Excellences until he came unto Brahma's
heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth: "This tricky
Brother was the Monkey of those days; Rāhula 1 was the hermit's son, and I
myself was the hermit." '
Footnotes
47:1 No. 487.
Next: No. 174. Dūbhiya-Makkaṭa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Daddara Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 172. Daddara-Jātaka
No. 172.
DADDARA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Who is it with a mighty cry, etc."--This is a story which the Master told at
Jetavana about one Kokālika. At this time we hear that there were a number of
very learned Brethren in the district of Manosilā, who spoke out like young
lions, loud enough to bring down the heavenly Ganges 2, [66] while reciting
passages of scripture before the Community. As they recited their texts,
Kokālika (not knowing what an empty fool he showed himself) thought he would
like to do the same. So he went about among the Brethren, not however taking the
Name upon him, but saying, "They don't ask me to recite a piece of scripture. If
p. 46
they were to ask me, I would do it." All the Community got to know of it and
they thought they would try him. "Friend Kokālika," said they, "give the
Community a recital of some scriptures to-day." To this he agreed, not knowing
his folly; that day he would recite before the Community.
He first partook of gruel made to his liking, ate some food, and had some of his
favourite soup. At sundown the gong sounded for sermon time; all the community
gathered together. The 'yellow robe' which he put on was blue as a bluebell; his
outer robe was pure white. Thus clad, he entered the meeting, greeted the
Elders, stepped up to a Preaching Seat under a grand jewelled pavilion, holding
an elegantly carved fan, and sat down, ready to begin his recitation. But just
at that moment beads of sweat began to start out all over him, and he felt
ashamed. The first verse of the first stanza he repeated; but what came next he
could not think. So rising from the seat in confusion, he passed out through the
meeting, and sought his own cell. Some one else, a real scholar, recited the
Scripture. After that all the Brethren knew how empty he was.
One day the Brethren fell a talking of it in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, it was
not easy to see formerly how empty Kokālika is; but now he has given tongue of
his own accord, and shown it." The Master entered, and asked what they were
discussing together. They told him. He said--"Brethren, this is not the first
time Kokālika has betrayed himself by his voice; the very same thing happened
before;" and then he told them an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born as a young Lion, [67] and was the king of many lions. With a suite of lions
he dwelt in Silver Cave. Near by was a Jackal, living in another cave.
One day, after a shower of rain, all the Lions were together at the entrance of
their leader's cave, roaring loudly and gambolling about as lions use. As they
were thus roaring and playing, the Jackal too lifted up his voice. "Here's this
Jackal, giving tongue along with us!" said the Lions; they felt ashamed, and
were silent. When they all fell silent, the Bodhisatta's cub asked him this
question. "Father, all these Lions that were roaring and playing about have
fallen silent for very shame on hearing yon creature. What creature is it that
betrays itself thus by its voice?" and he repeated the first stanza:
"Who is it with a mighty cry makes Daddara resound?
Who is it, Lord of Beasts? and why has he no welcome found?"
At his son's words the old Lion repeated the second stanza:
"The Jackal, of all beasts most vile, ’tis he that makes that sound:
The Lions loathe his baseness, while they sit in silence round."
_____________________________
"Brethren," the Master added, "’tis not the first time Kokālika has betrayed
himself by his voice; it was just the same before;" and bringing his discourse
to an end, he identified the Birth: "At that time Kokālika was the Jackal,
Rāhula was the young lion, and I was myself the Lion king."
Footnotes
45:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, p. 45 (not translated); below, Nos. 188 and 189.
45:2 The Milky Way. See the Introd. Story to No. 1, above.
Next: No. 173. Makkaṭa-Jātaka
No. 172.
DADDARA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Who is it with a mighty cry, etc."--This is a story which the Master told at
Jetavana about one Kokālika. At this time we hear that there were a number of
very learned Brethren in the district of Manosilā, who spoke out like young
lions, loud enough to bring down the heavenly Ganges 2, [66] while reciting
passages of scripture before the Community. As they recited their texts,
Kokālika (not knowing what an empty fool he showed himself) thought he would
like to do the same. So he went about among the Brethren, not however taking the
Name upon him, but saying, "They don't ask me to recite a piece of scripture. If
p. 46
they were to ask me, I would do it." All the Community got to know of it and
they thought they would try him. "Friend Kokālika," said they, "give the
Community a recital of some scriptures to-day." To this he agreed, not knowing
his folly; that day he would recite before the Community.
He first partook of gruel made to his liking, ate some food, and had some of his
favourite soup. At sundown the gong sounded for sermon time; all the community
gathered together. The 'yellow robe' which he put on was blue as a bluebell; his
outer robe was pure white. Thus clad, he entered the meeting, greeted the
Elders, stepped up to a Preaching Seat under a grand jewelled pavilion, holding
an elegantly carved fan, and sat down, ready to begin his recitation. But just
at that moment beads of sweat began to start out all over him, and he felt
ashamed. The first verse of the first stanza he repeated; but what came next he
could not think. So rising from the seat in confusion, he passed out through the
meeting, and sought his own cell. Some one else, a real scholar, recited the
Scripture. After that all the Brethren knew how empty he was.
One day the Brethren fell a talking of it in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, it was
not easy to see formerly how empty Kokālika is; but now he has given tongue of
his own accord, and shown it." The Master entered, and asked what they were
discussing together. They told him. He said--"Brethren, this is not the first
time Kokālika has betrayed himself by his voice; the very same thing happened
before;" and then he told them an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born as a young Lion, [67] and was the king of many lions. With a suite of lions
he dwelt in Silver Cave. Near by was a Jackal, living in another cave.
One day, after a shower of rain, all the Lions were together at the entrance of
their leader's cave, roaring loudly and gambolling about as lions use. As they
were thus roaring and playing, the Jackal too lifted up his voice. "Here's this
Jackal, giving tongue along with us!" said the Lions; they felt ashamed, and
were silent. When they all fell silent, the Bodhisatta's cub asked him this
question. "Father, all these Lions that were roaring and playing about have
fallen silent for very shame on hearing yon creature. What creature is it that
betrays itself thus by its voice?" and he repeated the first stanza:
"Who is it with a mighty cry makes Daddara resound?
Who is it, Lord of Beasts? and why has he no welcome found?"
At his son's words the old Lion repeated the second stanza:
"The Jackal, of all beasts most vile, ’tis he that makes that sound:
The Lions loathe his baseness, while they sit in silence round."
_____________________________
"Brethren," the Master added, "’tis not the first time Kokālika has betrayed
himself by his voice; it was just the same before;" and bringing his discourse
to an end, he identified the Birth: "At that time Kokālika was the Jackal,
Rāhula was the young lion, and I was myself the Lion king."
Footnotes
45:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, p. 45 (not translated); below, Nos. 188 and 189.
45:2 The Milky Way. See the Introd. Story to No. 1, above.
Next: No. 173. Makkaṭa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kalyana-Dhamma Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 171. Kalyāṇa-Dhamma-Jātaka
p. 44
No. 171.
KALYĀṆA-DHAMMA-JĀTAKA 1.
"O king, when people hail us," etc.--This story the Master told in Jetavana,
about a deaf mother-in-law.
It is said that there was a squire in Sāvatthi, one of the faith, a true
believer, who had fled to the Three Refuges, endowed with the Five Virtues. One
day he set out to listen to the Master at Jetavana, bearing plenteous ghee and
condiments of all sorts, flowers, perfumes, etc. At the same time, his wife's
mother started to visit her daughter, and brought a present of solid food and
gruel. She was a little hard of hearing.
After dinner--one feels a little drowsy after a meal--she said, by way of
keeping herself awake--"Well, and does your husband live happily with you? do
you agree together?" "Why, mother, what a thing to ask! you could hardly find a
holy hermit who is so good and virtuous as he!" The good woman did not quite
take in what her daughter said, but she caught the word--"Hermit" and cries
she--"O dear, why has your husband turned hermit!" and a great to-do she made.
Everybody who lived in that house heard it, and cried, "News--the squire has
turned hermit!" People heard the noise, and a crowd gathered at the door to find
out what it was. "The squire who lives here has turned hermit!" was all they
heard.
Our Squire listened to the Buddha's sermon, then left the monastery to return to
the city. Midway a man met him, who cried--"Why, master, they do say you've
turned hermit, and all your family and servants are crying at home!" [64] Then
these thoughts passed through his mind. "People say I have turned hermit when I
have done nothing of the kind. A lucky speech must not be neglected; this day a
hermit I must be." Then and there he turned right round, and went back to the
Master. "You paid your visit to the Buddha," the Master said, "and went away.
What brings you back here again?" The man told him about it, adding, "A lucky
speech, Sir, must not be neglected. So here I am, and I wish to become a
hermit." Then he received the lesser and the greater orders, and lived a good
life; and very soon he attained to sainthood.
The story got known amongst the community. One day they were discussing it all
together in the Hall of Truth, on this fashion: "I say, friend, Squire So-and-so
took orders because he said 'a lucky speech must never be neglected,' and now he
has attained to sainthood!" The Master came in and wanted to know what it was
they were talking about. They told him. Said he, "Brethren, wise men in days
long past also entered the Brotherhood because they said that a lucky speech
must never be neglected;" and then he told them a story of olden days.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
the world as a rich merchant's son; and when he grew up and his father died he
took his father's place.
Once he had gone to pay his respects to the king: and his mother-in-law came on
a visit to her daughter. She was a little hard of hearing, and all happened just
as it has happened now. The husband was on
p. 45
his way back from paying his respects to the king, when he was met by a man, who
said, "They say you have turned hermit, and there's such a hullabaloo in your
house!" The Bodhisatta, thinking that lucky words must never be neglected,
turned right round and went back to the king. The king asked what brought him
back again. "My lord," said he, "all my people are bewailing me, as I am told,
because I have turned hermit, when I have done nothing of the kind. But lucky
words must not be neglected, and a hermit I will be. I crave your permission to
become a hermit!" And he explained the circumstances by the following verses:
[65]
"O king, when people hail us by the name
Of holy, we must make our acts the same:
We must not waver nor fall short of it;
We must take up the yoke for very shame.
"O king, this name has been bestowed on me:
To-day they cry how holy I must be:
Therefore I would a hermit live and die;
I have no taste for joy and revelry."
Thus did the Bodhisatta ask the king's leave to embrace the religious life. Then
he went away to the Himalayas, and becoming an ascetic he cultivated the
Faculties and the Attainments and at last came to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
The Master, having ended this discourse, identified the Birth: "Ānanda was king
in those days, and I myself was the rich Benares merchant."
Footnotes
44:1 No. 20 in Jātaka-Mālā: Çreṣṭhi-jāntaka.
Next: No. 172. Daddara-Jātaka
p. 44
No. 171.
KALYĀṆA-DHAMMA-JĀTAKA 1.
"O king, when people hail us," etc.--This story the Master told in Jetavana,
about a deaf mother-in-law.
It is said that there was a squire in Sāvatthi, one of the faith, a true
believer, who had fled to the Three Refuges, endowed with the Five Virtues. One
day he set out to listen to the Master at Jetavana, bearing plenteous ghee and
condiments of all sorts, flowers, perfumes, etc. At the same time, his wife's
mother started to visit her daughter, and brought a present of solid food and
gruel. She was a little hard of hearing.
After dinner--one feels a little drowsy after a meal--she said, by way of
keeping herself awake--"Well, and does your husband live happily with you? do
you agree together?" "Why, mother, what a thing to ask! you could hardly find a
holy hermit who is so good and virtuous as he!" The good woman did not quite
take in what her daughter said, but she caught the word--"Hermit" and cries
she--"O dear, why has your husband turned hermit!" and a great to-do she made.
Everybody who lived in that house heard it, and cried, "News--the squire has
turned hermit!" People heard the noise, and a crowd gathered at the door to find
out what it was. "The squire who lives here has turned hermit!" was all they
heard.
Our Squire listened to the Buddha's sermon, then left the monastery to return to
the city. Midway a man met him, who cried--"Why, master, they do say you've
turned hermit, and all your family and servants are crying at home!" [64] Then
these thoughts passed through his mind. "People say I have turned hermit when I
have done nothing of the kind. A lucky speech must not be neglected; this day a
hermit I must be." Then and there he turned right round, and went back to the
Master. "You paid your visit to the Buddha," the Master said, "and went away.
What brings you back here again?" The man told him about it, adding, "A lucky
speech, Sir, must not be neglected. So here I am, and I wish to become a
hermit." Then he received the lesser and the greater orders, and lived a good
life; and very soon he attained to sainthood.
The story got known amongst the community. One day they were discussing it all
together in the Hall of Truth, on this fashion: "I say, friend, Squire So-and-so
took orders because he said 'a lucky speech must never be neglected,' and now he
has attained to sainthood!" The Master came in and wanted to know what it was
they were talking about. They told him. Said he, "Brethren, wise men in days
long past also entered the Brotherhood because they said that a lucky speech
must never be neglected;" and then he told them a story of olden days.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
the world as a rich merchant's son; and when he grew up and his father died he
took his father's place.
Once he had gone to pay his respects to the king: and his mother-in-law came on
a visit to her daughter. She was a little hard of hearing, and all happened just
as it has happened now. The husband was on
p. 45
his way back from paying his respects to the king, when he was met by a man, who
said, "They say you have turned hermit, and there's such a hullabaloo in your
house!" The Bodhisatta, thinking that lucky words must never be neglected,
turned right round and went back to the king. The king asked what brought him
back again. "My lord," said he, "all my people are bewailing me, as I am told,
because I have turned hermit, when I have done nothing of the kind. But lucky
words must not be neglected, and a hermit I will be. I crave your permission to
become a hermit!" And he explained the circumstances by the following verses:
[65]
"O king, when people hail us by the name
Of holy, we must make our acts the same:
We must not waver nor fall short of it;
We must take up the yoke for very shame.
"O king, this name has been bestowed on me:
To-day they cry how holy I must be:
Therefore I would a hermit live and die;
I have no taste for joy and revelry."
Thus did the Bodhisatta ask the king's leave to embrace the religious life. Then
he went away to the Himalayas, and becoming an ascetic he cultivated the
Faculties and the Attainments and at last came to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
The Master, having ended this discourse, identified the Birth: "Ānanda was king
in those days, and I myself was the rich Benares merchant."
Footnotes
44:1 No. 20 in Jātaka-Mālā: Çreṣṭhi-jāntaka.
Next: No. 172. Daddara-Jātaka
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