Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 210. Kandagalaka-Jātaka
No. 210.
KANDAGALAKA-JĀTAKA.
"O friend," etc.--This was told by the Master, during a stay in Veḷuvana, about
Devadatta's attempts to imitate him 1. When he heard of these attempts to
imitate him, the Master said, "This is not the first time Devadatta has
destroyed himself by imitating me; the same thing happened before." Then he told
this story.
_____________________________
p. 114
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta entered
into life as a Woodpecker. In a wood of acacia trees he lived, and his name was
Khadiravaniya, the Bird of the Acacia Wood. He had a comrade named Kandagalaka,
or Eatbulb, who got his food in a wood full of good fruit.
One day the friend went to visit Khadiravaniya. "My friend is come!" thought
Khadiravaniya; and he led him into the acacia wood, and pecked at the
tree-trunks until the insects came out, which he gave to his friend. As each was
given him, the friend pecked it up, and ate it, as if it were a honey cake. As
he ate, pride arose in his heart. [163] "This bird is a woodpecker," thought he,
"and so am I. What need for me to be fed by him? I will get nay own food in this
acacia wood!" So he said to Khadiravaniya,
"Friend, don't trouble yourself,--I will get my own food in the acacia wood."
Then said the other, "You belong to a tribe of birds which finds its food in a
forest of pithless silk-cotton trees, and trees that bear abundant fruit; but
the acacia is full of pith, and hard. Please do not do so!"
"What!" said Kandagalaka--"am I not a woodpecker?" And he would not listen, but
pecked at an acacia trunk. In a moment his beak snapped off, and his eyes bade
fair to fall out of his head, and his head split. So not being able to hold fast
to the tree, he fell to the ground, repeating the first verse:
"O friend, what is this thorny, cool-leaved tree
Which at one blow has broke my beak for me?"
Having heard this, Khadiravaniya recited the second stanza:
"This bird was good for rotten wood
And soft; but once he tried,
By some ill hap, hard trees to tap;
And broke his skull, and died."
[164] So said Khadiravaniya; and added, "O Kandagalaka, the tree where you broke
your head is hard and strong!" But the other perished then and there.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"Devadatta
was Kandagalaka, but Khadiravaniya was I myself."
Footnotes
113:1 See above, note to no. 208.
Next: No. 211. Somadatta-Jātaka
Showing posts with label Dukanipata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dukanipata. Show all posts
Tuesday, May 17, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kakkara Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 209. Kakkara-Jātaka
No. 209 1.
KAKKARA-JĀTAKA.
"Trees a many have I seen," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at
Jetavana, about a Brother who was one of the fellow-students of Elder Sāriputta,
Captain of the Faith.
This fellow, as we learn, [161] was clever at taking care of his person. Food
very hot or very cold he would not eat, for fear it should do him harm. He never
went out for fear of being hurt by cold or heat; and he would not have rice
which was either over-boiled or too hard.
The Brotherhood learnt how much care he took of himself. In the Hall of Truth,
they all discussed it. "Friend, what a clever fellow Brother So-and-so is in
knowing what is good for him!" The Master came in, and asked what they were
talking of as they sat there together. They told him. Then he rejoined,
p. 113
[paragraph continues] "Not only now is our young friend careful for his personal
comfort. He was just the same in olden days." And he told them an old-world
tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, in the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the Bodhisatta
became a Tree-spirit in a forest glade. A. certain fowler, with a decoy bird,
hair noose, and stick, went into the forest in search of birds. He began to
follow one old bird which flew off into the woods, trying to escape. The bird
would not give him a chance of catching it in his snare, but kept rising and
alighting, rising and alighting. So the fowler covered himself with twigs and
branches, and set his noose and stick again and again. But the bird, wishing to
make him ashamed of himself, sent forth a human voice and repeated the first
stanza:
"Trees a many have I seen
Growing in the woodland green:
But, O Tree, they could not do
Any such strange things as you!"
So saying, the bird flew off and went elsewhere. When it had gone, the fowler
repeated the second verse:--[162]
"This old bird, that knows the snare,
Off has flown into the air;
Forth from out his cage has broken,
And with human voice has spoken!"
So said the fowler; and having hunted through the woods, took what he could
catch and went home again.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"Devadatta
was the fowler then, the young dandy was the bird, and the tree-sprite that saw
the whole thing was I myself."
Footnotes
112:1 Compare latter part of the Second Çakuntaka Jātaka, Mahāvastu ii. 250; the
first line of the first verse and the whole of the second are nearly the same.
Next: No. 210. Kandagalaka-Jātaka
No. 209 1.
KAKKARA-JĀTAKA.
"Trees a many have I seen," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at
Jetavana, about a Brother who was one of the fellow-students of Elder Sāriputta,
Captain of the Faith.
This fellow, as we learn, [161] was clever at taking care of his person. Food
very hot or very cold he would not eat, for fear it should do him harm. He never
went out for fear of being hurt by cold or heat; and he would not have rice
which was either over-boiled or too hard.
The Brotherhood learnt how much care he took of himself. In the Hall of Truth,
they all discussed it. "Friend, what a clever fellow Brother So-and-so is in
knowing what is good for him!" The Master came in, and asked what they were
talking of as they sat there together. They told him. Then he rejoined,
p. 113
[paragraph continues] "Not only now is our young friend careful for his personal
comfort. He was just the same in olden days." And he told them an old-world
tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, in the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the Bodhisatta
became a Tree-spirit in a forest glade. A. certain fowler, with a decoy bird,
hair noose, and stick, went into the forest in search of birds. He began to
follow one old bird which flew off into the woods, trying to escape. The bird
would not give him a chance of catching it in his snare, but kept rising and
alighting, rising and alighting. So the fowler covered himself with twigs and
branches, and set his noose and stick again and again. But the bird, wishing to
make him ashamed of himself, sent forth a human voice and repeated the first
stanza:
"Trees a many have I seen
Growing in the woodland green:
But, O Tree, they could not do
Any such strange things as you!"
So saying, the bird flew off and went elsewhere. When it had gone, the fowler
repeated the second verse:--[162]
"This old bird, that knows the snare,
Off has flown into the air;
Forth from out his cage has broken,
And with human voice has spoken!"
So said the fowler; and having hunted through the woods, took what he could
catch and went home again.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"Devadatta
was the fowler then, the young dandy was the bird, and the tree-sprite that saw
the whole thing was I myself."
Footnotes
112:1 Compare latter part of the Second Çakuntaka Jātaka, Mahāvastu ii. 250; the
first line of the first verse and the whole of the second are nearly the same.
Next: No. 210. Kandagalaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Sumsumara Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 208. Suṁsumāra-Jātaka
No. 208.
SUṀSUMĀRA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Rose-apple, jack fruit," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about
Devadatta's attempts to murder him 2. When he heard of these attempts, the
Master said, This is not the first time that Devadatta has tried to murder me;
p. 111
he did the same before, and yet could not so much as make me afraid." Then he
told this story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came to
life at the foot of Himalaya as a Monkey. He grew strong and sturdy, big of
frame, well-to-do, and lived by a curve of the river Ganges in a forest haunt.
Now at that time there was a Crocodile dwelling in the Ganges. The Crocodile's
mate saw the great frame of the monkey, [159] and she conceived a longing for
his heart to eat. So she said to her lord: "Sir, I desire to eat the heart of
that great king of the monkeys!"
"Good wife," said the Crocodile, "I live in the water and he lives on dry land:
how can we catch him?"
"By hook or by crook," she replied, "caught he must be. If I don't get him, I
shall die."
"All right," answered the Crocodile, consoling her, "don't trouble yourself. I
have a plan; I will give you his heart to eat."
So when the Bodhisatta was sitting on the bank of the Ganges, after taking a
drink of water, the Crocodile drew near, and said:
"Sir Monkey, why do you live on had fruits in this old familiar place? On the
other side of the Ganges there is no end to the mango trees, and labuja trees 1,
with fruit sweet as honey! Is it not better to cross over and have all kinds of
wild fruit to eat?"
"Lord Crocodile," the Monkey made answer, "deep and wide is the Ganges: how
shall I get across?"
"If you will go, I will mount you on my back, and carry you over."
The Monkey trusted him, and agreed. "Come here, then," said the other, "up on my
back with you!" and up the monkey climbed. But when the Crocodile had swum a
little way, he plunged the Monkey under the water.
"Good friend, you are letting me sink!" cried the Monkey. "What is that for?"
Said the Crocodile, "You think I'm carrying you out of pure good nature? Not a
bit of it! My wife has a longing for your heart, and I want to give it her to
eat"
"Friend," said the Monkey, "it is nice of you to tell me. Why, if our heart were
inside us when we go jumping among the tree-tops, it would be all knocked to
pieces'"
"Well, where do you keep it?" asked the other.
The Bodhisatta pointed out a fig-tree, with clusters of ripe fruit,
p. 112
standing not far off. "See," said he, "there are our hearts hanging on yon
fig-tree." [160]
"If you will show me your heart," said the Crocodile, "then I won't kill you."
"Take me to the tree, then, and I will point it out to you hanging upon it."
The Crocodile brought him to the place. The Monkey leapt off his back, and
climbing up the fig-tree sat upon it. "O silly Crocodile!" said he, "you thought
that there were creatures that kept their hearts in a tree-top! You are a fool,
and I have outwitted you! You may keep your fruit to yourself. Your body is
great, but you have no sense." And then to explain this idea he uttered the
following stanzas:--
"Rose-apple, jack-fruit, mangoes too across the water there I see;
Enough of them, I want them not; my fig is good enough for me!
"Great is your body, verily, but how much smaller is your wit!
Now go your ways, Sir Crocodile, for I have had the best of it."
The Crocodile, feeling as sad and miserable as if he had lost a thousand pieces
of money, went back sorrowing to the place where he lived.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In those
days Devadatta was the Crocodile, the lady Ciñcā was his mate, and I was the
Monkey."
Footnotes
110:1 Cf. Markaṭa-jātaka, Mahāvastu ii. 208; Cariyā-Piṭaka, iii. 7; Morris,
Contemp. Rev. vol. 39, quoting Griffis, Japanese Fairy World, p. 153. A monkey
outwits a crocodile in No. 57, above.
The following variant, from Russia (Moscow district) may be of interest. It was
given me by Mr I. Nestor Schnurmann, who heard it from his nurse (about
1860).--Once upon a time, the King of the Fishes was wanting in wisdom. His
advisers told him that once he could get the heart of the fox, he would become
wise. So he sent a deputation, consisting of the great magnates of the sea,
whales and others. "Our king wants your advice on some state affairs." The fox,
flattered, consented. A whale took him on his back. On the way the waves beat
upon him; at last he asked what they really wanted. They said, what their king
really wanted was to eat his heart, by which he hoped to become clever. He said,
"Why didn't you tell me that before? I would gladly sacrifice my life for such a
worthy object. But we foxes always leave our hearts at home. Take me back and
I'll fetch it. Otherwise I'm sure your king will be angry." So they took him
back. As soon as he got near the shore, he leaped on land, and cried "Ah you
fools! Have you ever heard of an animal not carrying his heart with him?" and
ran off. The fish had to return empty.
110:2 These attempts of Devadatta, and how they were foiled, are set forth in
Cullavagga, VII. iii. 6 foll., trans. in S. B. E., Vinaya Texts, iii. 243 f.
111:1 Artocarpus Lacucha (Childers).
Next: No. 209. Kakkara-Jātaka
No. 208.
SUṀSUMĀRA-JĀTAKA 1.
"Rose-apple, jack fruit," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about
Devadatta's attempts to murder him 2. When he heard of these attempts, the
Master said, This is not the first time that Devadatta has tried to murder me;
p. 111
he did the same before, and yet could not so much as make me afraid." Then he
told this story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came to
life at the foot of Himalaya as a Monkey. He grew strong and sturdy, big of
frame, well-to-do, and lived by a curve of the river Ganges in a forest haunt.
Now at that time there was a Crocodile dwelling in the Ganges. The Crocodile's
mate saw the great frame of the monkey, [159] and she conceived a longing for
his heart to eat. So she said to her lord: "Sir, I desire to eat the heart of
that great king of the monkeys!"
"Good wife," said the Crocodile, "I live in the water and he lives on dry land:
how can we catch him?"
"By hook or by crook," she replied, "caught he must be. If I don't get him, I
shall die."
"All right," answered the Crocodile, consoling her, "don't trouble yourself. I
have a plan; I will give you his heart to eat."
So when the Bodhisatta was sitting on the bank of the Ganges, after taking a
drink of water, the Crocodile drew near, and said:
"Sir Monkey, why do you live on had fruits in this old familiar place? On the
other side of the Ganges there is no end to the mango trees, and labuja trees 1,
with fruit sweet as honey! Is it not better to cross over and have all kinds of
wild fruit to eat?"
"Lord Crocodile," the Monkey made answer, "deep and wide is the Ganges: how
shall I get across?"
"If you will go, I will mount you on my back, and carry you over."
The Monkey trusted him, and agreed. "Come here, then," said the other, "up on my
back with you!" and up the monkey climbed. But when the Crocodile had swum a
little way, he plunged the Monkey under the water.
"Good friend, you are letting me sink!" cried the Monkey. "What is that for?"
Said the Crocodile, "You think I'm carrying you out of pure good nature? Not a
bit of it! My wife has a longing for your heart, and I want to give it her to
eat"
"Friend," said the Monkey, "it is nice of you to tell me. Why, if our heart were
inside us when we go jumping among the tree-tops, it would be all knocked to
pieces'"
"Well, where do you keep it?" asked the other.
The Bodhisatta pointed out a fig-tree, with clusters of ripe fruit,
p. 112
standing not far off. "See," said he, "there are our hearts hanging on yon
fig-tree." [160]
"If you will show me your heart," said the Crocodile, "then I won't kill you."
"Take me to the tree, then, and I will point it out to you hanging upon it."
The Crocodile brought him to the place. The Monkey leapt off his back, and
climbing up the fig-tree sat upon it. "O silly Crocodile!" said he, "you thought
that there were creatures that kept their hearts in a tree-top! You are a fool,
and I have outwitted you! You may keep your fruit to yourself. Your body is
great, but you have no sense." And then to explain this idea he uttered the
following stanzas:--
"Rose-apple, jack-fruit, mangoes too across the water there I see;
Enough of them, I want them not; my fig is good enough for me!
"Great is your body, verily, but how much smaller is your wit!
Now go your ways, Sir Crocodile, for I have had the best of it."
The Crocodile, feeling as sad and miserable as if he had lost a thousand pieces
of money, went back sorrowing to the place where he lived.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"In those
days Devadatta was the Crocodile, the lady Ciñcā was his mate, and I was the
Monkey."
Footnotes
110:1 Cf. Markaṭa-jātaka, Mahāvastu ii. 208; Cariyā-Piṭaka, iii. 7; Morris,
Contemp. Rev. vol. 39, quoting Griffis, Japanese Fairy World, p. 153. A monkey
outwits a crocodile in No. 57, above.
The following variant, from Russia (Moscow district) may be of interest. It was
given me by Mr I. Nestor Schnurmann, who heard it from his nurse (about
1860).--Once upon a time, the King of the Fishes was wanting in wisdom. His
advisers told him that once he could get the heart of the fox, he would become
wise. So he sent a deputation, consisting of the great magnates of the sea,
whales and others. "Our king wants your advice on some state affairs." The fox,
flattered, consented. A whale took him on his back. On the way the waves beat
upon him; at last he asked what they really wanted. They said, what their king
really wanted was to eat his heart, by which he hoped to become clever. He said,
"Why didn't you tell me that before? I would gladly sacrifice my life for such a
worthy object. But we foxes always leave our hearts at home. Take me back and
I'll fetch it. Otherwise I'm sure your king will be angry." So they took him
back. As soon as he got near the shore, he leaped on land, and cried "Ah you
fools! Have you ever heard of an animal not carrying his heart with him?" and
ran off. The fish had to return empty.
110:2 These attempts of Devadatta, and how they were foiled, are set forth in
Cullavagga, VII. iii. 6 foll., trans. in S. B. E., Vinaya Texts, iii. 243 f.
111:1 Artocarpus Lacucha (Childers).
Next: No. 209. Kakkara-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Assaka Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 207. Assaka-Jātaka
p. 108
No. 207.
ASSAKA-JĀTAKA.
"Once with the great king Assaka," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
staying in Jetavana, about some one who was distracted by the recollection of a
former wife. He asked the Brother whether he were really lovesick. The man said,
Yes. "Whom are you in love with?" the Master continued. "My late wife," was the
reply. Then the Master said, "Not this once only, Brother, have you been full of
desire for this woman; in olden days her love brought you to great misery." And
he told a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, there was a king Assaka reigning in Potali, which is a city of
the kingdom of Kāsi. His queen consort, named Ubbarī, was very dear to him; she
was charming, and graceful, and beautiful passing the beauty of women, though
not so fair as a goddess. She died: and at her death the king was plunged in
grief, and became sad and miserable. He had the body laid in a coffin, and
embalmed with oil and ointment, and laid beneath the bed; and there he lay
without food, weeping and wailing. [156] In vain did his parents and kinsfolk,
friends and courtiers, priests and laymen, bid him not to grieve, since all
things pass away; they could not move him. As he lay in sorrow, seven days
passed by.
Now the Bodhisatta was at that time an ascetic, who had gained the Five
Supernatural Faculties and the Eight Attainments; he dwelt at the foot of
Himalaya. He was possessed of perfect supernatural insight, and as he looked
round India with his heavenly vision, he saw this king lamenting, and
straightway resolved to help him. By his miraculous power he rose in the air,
and alighted in the king's park, and sat down on the ceremonial stone, like a
golden image.
A young brahmin of the city of Potali entered the park, and seeing the
Bodhisatta, he greeted him and sat down. The Bodhisatta began to talk pleasantly
with him. "Is the king a just ruler?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir, the king is just." replied the youth; "but his queen is just dead; he
has laid her body in a coffin, and lies down lamenting her; and to-day is the
seventh day since he began.--Why do you not free the king from this great grief?
Virtuous beings like you ought to overcome the king's sorrow."
"I do not know the king, young man," said the Bodhisatta; "but if he were to
come and ask me, I would tell him the place where she has now come into the
flesh again, and make her speak herself."
"Then, holy Sir, stay here until I bring the king to you," said the
p. 109
youth. The Bodhisatta agreed, and he hastened into the king's presence, and told
him about it. "You should visit this being with the divine insight!" he told the
king.
The king was overjoyed, at the thought of seeing Ubbarī; and he entered his
chariot and drove to the place. Greeting the Bodhisatta, he sat down on one
side, and asked, "Is it true, as I am told, that you know where my queen has
come into being again?"
"Yes, I do, my lord king," replied he.
Then the king asked where it was.
The Bodhisatta replied, "O king, she was intoxicated with her beauty, and so
fell into negligence and did not do fair and virtuous acts; so now she has
become a little dung-worm in this very park." [157]
"I don't believe it!" said the king.
"Then I will show her to you, and make her speak," answered the Bodhisatta.
"Please make her speak!" said the king.
The Bodhisatta commanded--"Let the two that are busy rolling a lump of cow-dung,
come forth before the king:" and by his power he made them do it, and they came.
The Bodhisatta pointed one out to the king: "There is your queen Ubbarī, O king!
she has just come out of this lump, following her husband the dung-worm. Look
and see."
"What! my queen Ubbarī a dung-worm? I don't believe it!" cried the king.
I will make her speak, O king!"
"Pray make her speak, holy Sir!" said he.
The Bodhisatta by his power gave her speech. "Ubbarī!" said he.
"What is it, holy Sir?" she asked, in a human voice.
"What was your name in your former character?" the Bodhisatta asked her.
"My name was Ubbarī, Sir," she replied, "the consort of king Assaka."
"Tell me," the Bodhisatta went on, "which do you love best now--king Assaka, or
this dung-worm?"
"O Sir, that was my former birth," said she. "Then I lived with him in this
park, enjoying shape and sound, scent, savour and touch; but now that my memory
is confused by rebirth, what is he? Why, now I would kill king Assaka, and would
smear the feet of my husband the dung-worm with the blood flowing from his
throat!" and in the midst of the king's company, she uttered these verses in a
human voice:
"Once with the great king Assaka, who was my husband dear,
Beloving and beloved, I walked about this garden here.
"But now new sorrows and new joys have made the old ones flee,
And dearer far than Assaka my Worm is now to me."
p. 110
[158] When king Assaka heard this, he repented on the spot; and at once he
caused the queen's body to be removed and washed his head. He saluted the
Bodhisatta, and went back into the city; where he married another queen, and
ruled in righteousness. And the Bodhisatta, having instructed the king, and set
him free from sorrow, returned again to the Himalayas.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths, the lovesick Brother reached the
Fruit of the First Path:--"Your late wife was Ubbarī; you, the lovesick Brother,
were king Assaka; Sāriputta was the young brahmin; and the anchorite was I
myself."
Next: No. 208. Suṁsumāra-Jātaka
p. 108
No. 207.
ASSAKA-JĀTAKA.
"Once with the great king Assaka," etc.--This story the Master told whilst
staying in Jetavana, about some one who was distracted by the recollection of a
former wife. He asked the Brother whether he were really lovesick. The man said,
Yes. "Whom are you in love with?" the Master continued. "My late wife," was the
reply. Then the Master said, "Not this once only, Brother, have you been full of
desire for this woman; in olden days her love brought you to great misery." And
he told a story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, there was a king Assaka reigning in Potali, which is a city of
the kingdom of Kāsi. His queen consort, named Ubbarī, was very dear to him; she
was charming, and graceful, and beautiful passing the beauty of women, though
not so fair as a goddess. She died: and at her death the king was plunged in
grief, and became sad and miserable. He had the body laid in a coffin, and
embalmed with oil and ointment, and laid beneath the bed; and there he lay
without food, weeping and wailing. [156] In vain did his parents and kinsfolk,
friends and courtiers, priests and laymen, bid him not to grieve, since all
things pass away; they could not move him. As he lay in sorrow, seven days
passed by.
Now the Bodhisatta was at that time an ascetic, who had gained the Five
Supernatural Faculties and the Eight Attainments; he dwelt at the foot of
Himalaya. He was possessed of perfect supernatural insight, and as he looked
round India with his heavenly vision, he saw this king lamenting, and
straightway resolved to help him. By his miraculous power he rose in the air,
and alighted in the king's park, and sat down on the ceremonial stone, like a
golden image.
A young brahmin of the city of Potali entered the park, and seeing the
Bodhisatta, he greeted him and sat down. The Bodhisatta began to talk pleasantly
with him. "Is the king a just ruler?" he asked.
"Yes, Sir, the king is just." replied the youth; "but his queen is just dead; he
has laid her body in a coffin, and lies down lamenting her; and to-day is the
seventh day since he began.--Why do you not free the king from this great grief?
Virtuous beings like you ought to overcome the king's sorrow."
"I do not know the king, young man," said the Bodhisatta; "but if he were to
come and ask me, I would tell him the place where she has now come into the
flesh again, and make her speak herself."
"Then, holy Sir, stay here until I bring the king to you," said the
p. 109
youth. The Bodhisatta agreed, and he hastened into the king's presence, and told
him about it. "You should visit this being with the divine insight!" he told the
king.
The king was overjoyed, at the thought of seeing Ubbarī; and he entered his
chariot and drove to the place. Greeting the Bodhisatta, he sat down on one
side, and asked, "Is it true, as I am told, that you know where my queen has
come into being again?"
"Yes, I do, my lord king," replied he.
Then the king asked where it was.
The Bodhisatta replied, "O king, she was intoxicated with her beauty, and so
fell into negligence and did not do fair and virtuous acts; so now she has
become a little dung-worm in this very park." [157]
"I don't believe it!" said the king.
"Then I will show her to you, and make her speak," answered the Bodhisatta.
"Please make her speak!" said the king.
The Bodhisatta commanded--"Let the two that are busy rolling a lump of cow-dung,
come forth before the king:" and by his power he made them do it, and they came.
The Bodhisatta pointed one out to the king: "There is your queen Ubbarī, O king!
she has just come out of this lump, following her husband the dung-worm. Look
and see."
"What! my queen Ubbarī a dung-worm? I don't believe it!" cried the king.
I will make her speak, O king!"
"Pray make her speak, holy Sir!" said he.
The Bodhisatta by his power gave her speech. "Ubbarī!" said he.
"What is it, holy Sir?" she asked, in a human voice.
"What was your name in your former character?" the Bodhisatta asked her.
"My name was Ubbarī, Sir," she replied, "the consort of king Assaka."
"Tell me," the Bodhisatta went on, "which do you love best now--king Assaka, or
this dung-worm?"
"O Sir, that was my former birth," said she. "Then I lived with him in this
park, enjoying shape and sound, scent, savour and touch; but now that my memory
is confused by rebirth, what is he? Why, now I would kill king Assaka, and would
smear the feet of my husband the dung-worm with the blood flowing from his
throat!" and in the midst of the king's company, she uttered these verses in a
human voice:
"Once with the great king Assaka, who was my husband dear,
Beloving and beloved, I walked about this garden here.
"But now new sorrows and new joys have made the old ones flee,
And dearer far than Assaka my Worm is now to me."
p. 110
[158] When king Assaka heard this, he repented on the spot; and at once he
caused the queen's body to be removed and washed his head. He saluted the
Bodhisatta, and went back into the city; where he married another queen, and
ruled in righteousness. And the Bodhisatta, having instructed the king, and set
him free from sorrow, returned again to the Himalayas.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths, the lovesick Brother reached the
Fruit of the First Path:--"Your late wife was Ubbarī; you, the lovesick Brother,
were king Assaka; Sāriputta was the young brahmin; and the anchorite was I
myself."
Next: No. 208. Suṁsumāra-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kurunga Miga Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 206. Kuruṅga-Miga-Jātaka
p. 106
No. 206 1.
KURUṄGA-MIGA-JĀTAKA.
"Come, Tortoise," etc.--This story the Master told at Veḷuvana, about Devadatta.
News came to the Master that Devadatta was plotting his death. "Ah, Brethren,"
said he, "it was just the same long ago; Devadatta tried then to kill me, as he
is trying now." And he told them this story.
_____________________________
[153] Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta
became an Antelope, and lived within a forest, in a thicket near a certain lake.
Not far from the same lake, sat a Woodpecker perched at the top of a tree; and
in the lake dwelt a Tortoise. And the three became friends, and lived together
in amity.
A hunter, wandering about in the wood, observed the Bodhisatta's footprint at
the going down into the water; and he set a trap of leather, strong, like an
iron chain, and went his way. In the first watch of the night the Bodhisatta
went down to drink, and got caught in the noose: whereat he cried loud and long.
Thereupon the Woodpecker flew down from her tree-top, and the Tortoise came out
of the water, and consulted what was to be done.
Said the Woodpecker to the Tortoise, "Friend, you have teeth--bite this snare
through; I will go and see to it that the hunter keeps away; and if we both do
our best, our friend will not lose his life." To make this clear he uttered the
first stanza:
"Come, Tortoise, tear the leathern snare, and bite it through and through,
And of the hunter I'll take care, and keep him off from you."
The Tortoise began to gnaw the leather thong: the Woodpecker made his way to the
hunter's dwelling. At dawn of day the hunter went out, knife in hand. As soon as
the bird saw him start, he uttered a cry, flapped his wings, and struck him in
the face as he left the front door. "Some bird of ill omen has struck me!"
thought the hunter; he turned back, and lay down for a little while. Then he
rose up again, and took his knife. The bird reasoned within himself, "The first
time he went out by the front door, so now he will leave by the back:" and he
sat him down behind the house. [154] The hunter, too, reasoned in the same way:
"When I went out by the front door, I saw a bad omen, now will I
p. 107
go out by the back!" and so he did. But the bird cried out again, and struck him
in the face. Finding that he was again struck by a bird of ill omen, the hunter
exclaimed, "This creature will not let me go!" and turning back he lay down
until sunrise, and when the sun was risen, he took his knife and started.
The Woodpecker made all haste back to his friends. "Here comes the hunter!" he
cried. By this time the Tortoise had gnawed through all the thongs but one tough
thong: his teeth seemed as though they would fall out, and his mouth was all
smeared with blood. The Bodhisatta saw the young hunter coming on like
lightning, knife in hand: he burst the thong, and fled into the woods. The
Woodpecker perched upon his tree-top. But the Tortoise was so weak, that he lay
where he was. The hunter threw him into a bag, and tied it to a tree.
The Bodhisatta observed that the Tortoise was taken, and determined to save his
friend's life. So he let the hunter see him, and made as though he were weak.
The hunter saw him, and thinking him to be weak, seized his knife and set out in
pursuit. The Bodhisatta, keeping just out of his reach, led him into the forest;
and when he saw that they had come far away, gave him the slip and returned
swift as the wind by another way. He lifted the bag with his horns, threw it
upon the ground, ripped it open and let the Tortoise out. And the Woodpecker
came down from the tree.
Then the Bodhisatta thus addressed them both: "My life has been saved by you,
and you have done a friend's part to me. Now the hunter will come and take you;
so do you, friend Woodpecker, migrate elsewhere with your brood, and you, friend
Tortoise, dive into the water." They did so.
_____________________________
The Master, becoming perfectly enlightened, uttered the second stanza:--[155]
"The Tortoise went into the pond, the Deer into the wood,
And from the tree the Woodpecker carried away his brood."
The hunter returned, and saw none of them. He found his bag torn; picked it up,
and went home sorrowful. And the three friends lived all their life long in
unbroken amity, and then passed away to fare according to their deeds.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"Devadatta
was the huntsman, Sāriputta the Woodpecker, Moggallāna the Tortoise, and I was
the Antelope."
Footnotes
106:1 Figured on the Bharhut Stupa (Cunningham, p. 67, and pl. xxvii. 9).
Next: No. 207. Assaka-Jātaka
p. 106
No. 206 1.
KURUṄGA-MIGA-JĀTAKA.
"Come, Tortoise," etc.--This story the Master told at Veḷuvana, about Devadatta.
News came to the Master that Devadatta was plotting his death. "Ah, Brethren,"
said he, "it was just the same long ago; Devadatta tried then to kill me, as he
is trying now." And he told them this story.
_____________________________
[153] Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta
became an Antelope, and lived within a forest, in a thicket near a certain lake.
Not far from the same lake, sat a Woodpecker perched at the top of a tree; and
in the lake dwelt a Tortoise. And the three became friends, and lived together
in amity.
A hunter, wandering about in the wood, observed the Bodhisatta's footprint at
the going down into the water; and he set a trap of leather, strong, like an
iron chain, and went his way. In the first watch of the night the Bodhisatta
went down to drink, and got caught in the noose: whereat he cried loud and long.
Thereupon the Woodpecker flew down from her tree-top, and the Tortoise came out
of the water, and consulted what was to be done.
Said the Woodpecker to the Tortoise, "Friend, you have teeth--bite this snare
through; I will go and see to it that the hunter keeps away; and if we both do
our best, our friend will not lose his life." To make this clear he uttered the
first stanza:
"Come, Tortoise, tear the leathern snare, and bite it through and through,
And of the hunter I'll take care, and keep him off from you."
The Tortoise began to gnaw the leather thong: the Woodpecker made his way to the
hunter's dwelling. At dawn of day the hunter went out, knife in hand. As soon as
the bird saw him start, he uttered a cry, flapped his wings, and struck him in
the face as he left the front door. "Some bird of ill omen has struck me!"
thought the hunter; he turned back, and lay down for a little while. Then he
rose up again, and took his knife. The bird reasoned within himself, "The first
time he went out by the front door, so now he will leave by the back:" and he
sat him down behind the house. [154] The hunter, too, reasoned in the same way:
"When I went out by the front door, I saw a bad omen, now will I
p. 107
go out by the back!" and so he did. But the bird cried out again, and struck him
in the face. Finding that he was again struck by a bird of ill omen, the hunter
exclaimed, "This creature will not let me go!" and turning back he lay down
until sunrise, and when the sun was risen, he took his knife and started.
The Woodpecker made all haste back to his friends. "Here comes the hunter!" he
cried. By this time the Tortoise had gnawed through all the thongs but one tough
thong: his teeth seemed as though they would fall out, and his mouth was all
smeared with blood. The Bodhisatta saw the young hunter coming on like
lightning, knife in hand: he burst the thong, and fled into the woods. The
Woodpecker perched upon his tree-top. But the Tortoise was so weak, that he lay
where he was. The hunter threw him into a bag, and tied it to a tree.
The Bodhisatta observed that the Tortoise was taken, and determined to save his
friend's life. So he let the hunter see him, and made as though he were weak.
The hunter saw him, and thinking him to be weak, seized his knife and set out in
pursuit. The Bodhisatta, keeping just out of his reach, led him into the forest;
and when he saw that they had come far away, gave him the slip and returned
swift as the wind by another way. He lifted the bag with his horns, threw it
upon the ground, ripped it open and let the Tortoise out. And the Woodpecker
came down from the tree.
Then the Bodhisatta thus addressed them both: "My life has been saved by you,
and you have done a friend's part to me. Now the hunter will come and take you;
so do you, friend Woodpecker, migrate elsewhere with your brood, and you, friend
Tortoise, dive into the water." They did so.
_____________________________
The Master, becoming perfectly enlightened, uttered the second stanza:--[155]
"The Tortoise went into the pond, the Deer into the wood,
And from the tree the Woodpecker carried away his brood."
The hunter returned, and saw none of them. He found his bag torn; picked it up,
and went home sorrowful. And the three friends lived all their life long in
unbroken amity, and then passed away to fare according to their deeds.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"Devadatta
was the huntsman, Sāriputta the Woodpecker, Moggallāna the Tortoise, and I was
the Antelope."
Footnotes
106:1 Figured on the Bharhut Stupa (Cunningham, p. 67, and pl. xxvii. 9).
Next: No. 207. Assaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Gangeyya Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 205. Gaṅgeyya-Jātaka
No. 205.
GAṄGEYYA-JĀTAKA.
[151] "Fine are the fish," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at
Jetavana, about two young Brethren.
These two young fellows, we are told, belonged to a good family of Sāvatthi, and
had embraced the faith. But they, not realising the impurity of the body 1, sang
the praises of their beauty, and went about bragging of it.
p. 105
One day they fell Into a dispute on this point: "You're handsome, but so am I,"
said each of them; then, spying an aged Elder sitting not far away, they agreed
that he was likely to know whether they were beautiful or not. Then they
approached him with the question, "Sir, which of us is beautiful?" The Elder
replied, "Friends, I am more beautiful than either of you." At this the young
men reviled him, and went off, grumbling that he told them something they did
not ask, but would not tell them what they did.
The Brotherhood became aware of this event; and one day, when they were all
together in the Hall of Truth, they began talking about it. "Friend, how the old
Elder shamed those two young fellows whose heads were full of their own beauty!"
The Master came in, and asked what they were talking of now as they sat
together. They told him. He rejoined, "This, is not the only time, Brethren,
that our friends were full of the praises of their own beauty. In olden times
they used to go about boasting of it as they do now." And then he told them an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, during the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the
Bodhisatta became a tree sprite on the bank of the Ganges. At the point where
Ganges and Jumna meet, two fish met together, one from the Ganges and one from
the Jumna. "I am beautiful!" said one, "and so are you!" and then they fell to
quarrelling about their beauty. Not far from the Ganges they saw a Tortoise
lying on the bank. "Yon fellow shall decide whether or no we are beautiful!"
said they; and they went up to him. "Which of us is beautiful, friend Tortoise,"
they asked, "the Ganges fish or the Jumna fish? "The Tortoise answered, "The
Ganges fish is beautiful, and the Jumna fish is beautiful: but I am more
beautiful than you both." And to explain it, he uttered the first verse:--[152]
"Fine are the fish of Jumna stream, the Ganges fish are fine,
But a four-footed creature, with a tapering neck like mine,
Round like a spreading banyan tree, must all of them outshine."
When the fish heard this, they cried, "Ah, you rascally Tortoise! you won't
answer our question, but you answer another one!" and they repeated the second
verse:
"We ask him this, he answers that: indeed a strange reply!
By his own tongue his praise is sung:--1 like it not, not I!"
_____________________________
When this discourse was concluded, the Master identified the Birth:--"In those
days the young Brothers were the two fish, the old man was the tortoise, and I
was the tree-sprite who saw the whole thing from the Ganges bank."
Footnotes
104:1 Reading an-anuyuñjitvā.
Next: No. 206. Kuruṅga-Miga-Jātaka
No. 205.
GAṄGEYYA-JĀTAKA.
[151] "Fine are the fish," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at
Jetavana, about two young Brethren.
These two young fellows, we are told, belonged to a good family of Sāvatthi, and
had embraced the faith. But they, not realising the impurity of the body 1, sang
the praises of their beauty, and went about bragging of it.
p. 105
One day they fell Into a dispute on this point: "You're handsome, but so am I,"
said each of them; then, spying an aged Elder sitting not far away, they agreed
that he was likely to know whether they were beautiful or not. Then they
approached him with the question, "Sir, which of us is beautiful?" The Elder
replied, "Friends, I am more beautiful than either of you." At this the young
men reviled him, and went off, grumbling that he told them something they did
not ask, but would not tell them what they did.
The Brotherhood became aware of this event; and one day, when they were all
together in the Hall of Truth, they began talking about it. "Friend, how the old
Elder shamed those two young fellows whose heads were full of their own beauty!"
The Master came in, and asked what they were talking of now as they sat
together. They told him. He rejoined, "This, is not the only time, Brethren,
that our friends were full of the praises of their own beauty. In olden times
they used to go about boasting of it as they do now." And then he told them an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, during the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the
Bodhisatta became a tree sprite on the bank of the Ganges. At the point where
Ganges and Jumna meet, two fish met together, one from the Ganges and one from
the Jumna. "I am beautiful!" said one, "and so are you!" and then they fell to
quarrelling about their beauty. Not far from the Ganges they saw a Tortoise
lying on the bank. "Yon fellow shall decide whether or no we are beautiful!"
said they; and they went up to him. "Which of us is beautiful, friend Tortoise,"
they asked, "the Ganges fish or the Jumna fish? "The Tortoise answered, "The
Ganges fish is beautiful, and the Jumna fish is beautiful: but I am more
beautiful than you both." And to explain it, he uttered the first verse:--[152]
"Fine are the fish of Jumna stream, the Ganges fish are fine,
But a four-footed creature, with a tapering neck like mine,
Round like a spreading banyan tree, must all of them outshine."
When the fish heard this, they cried, "Ah, you rascally Tortoise! you won't
answer our question, but you answer another one!" and they repeated the second
verse:
"We ask him this, he answers that: indeed a strange reply!
By his own tongue his praise is sung:--1 like it not, not I!"
_____________________________
When this discourse was concluded, the Master identified the Birth:--"In those
days the young Brothers were the two fish, the old man was the tortoise, and I
was the tree-sprite who saw the whole thing from the Ganges bank."
Footnotes
104:1 Reading an-anuyuñjitvā.
Next: No. 206. Kuruṅga-Miga-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Viraka Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 204. Vīraka-Jātaka
p. 103
No. 204.
VĪRAKA-JĀTAKA.
"O have you seen," etc.--This story the Master told, while dwelling at Jetavana,
about imitating the Buddha.
When the Elders had gone with their followers to visit Devadatta 1, the Master
asked Sāriputta what Devadatta had done when he saw them. The reply was that he
had imitated the Buddha. The Master rejoined, "Not now only has Devadatta
imitated me and thereby come to ruin; he did just the same before." Then, at the
Elder's request, he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[149] Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta reigned as king in Benares, the
Bodhisatta became a marsh crow, and dwelt by a certain pool. His name was
Vīraka, the Strong.
There arose a famine in Kāsi. Men could not spare food for the crows, nor make
offering to goblins and snakes. One by one the crows left the famine-stricken
land, and betook them to the woods.
A certain crow named Saviṭṭhaka, who lived at Benares, took with him his lady
crow and went to the place where Vīraka lived, making his abode beside the same
pool.
One day, this crow was seeking food about the pool. He saw how Vīraka went down
into it, and made a meal off some fish; and afterwards came up out of the water
again, and stood drying his feathers. "Under the wing of that crow," thought he,
"plenty of fish are to be got. I will become his servant." So he drew near.
"What is it, Sir?" asked Vīraka.
"I want to be your servant, my lord!" was the reply.
Vīraka agreed, and from that time the other served him. And from that time,
Vīraka used to eat enough fish to keep him alive, and the rest he gave to
Saviṭṭhaka as soon as he had caught them; and when Saviṭṭhaka had eaten enough
to keep him alive, he gave what was over to his wife.
After a while pride came into his heart. "This crow," said he, "is black, and so
am I: in eyes and beak and feet, too, there is no difference between us. I don't
want his fish; I will catch my own!" So he told Vīraka that for the future he
intended to go down to the water and catch fish himself. Then Vīraka said, "Good
friend, you do not belong to a
p. 104
tribe of such crows as are born to go into water and catch fish. Don't destroy
yourself!
But in spite of this attempt to dissuade him, Saviṭṭhaka did not take the
warning to heart. Down he went to the pool, down into the water; but he could
not make his way through the weeds and come out again--there he was, entangled
in the weeds, with only the tip of his beak appearing above the water. So not
being able to breathe he perished there beneath the water.
[150] His mate noticed that he did not return, and went to Vīraka to ask news of
him. "My lord," she asked, "Saviṭṭhaka is not to be seen: where is he?" And as
she asked him this, she repeated the first stanza:
"O have you seen Saviṭṭhaka, O Vīraka, have you seen
My sweet-voiced mate whose neck is like the peacock in its sheen?"
When Vīraka heard it, he replied, "Yes, I know where he is gone," and recited
the second stanza:--
"He was not born to dive beneath the wave,
But what he could not do he needs must try;
So the poor bird has found a watery grave,
Entangled in the weeds, and left to die."
When the Lady-crow heard it, weeping, she returned to Benares.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth: "Devadatta was
then incarnate as Saviṭṭhaka, and I myself was Vīraka."
Footnotes
103:1 Sāriputta and Moggallāna visited the arch-heretic to try if they could win
back his followers to the Master. The story of their visit, and how it
succeeded, is told in the Vinaya, Cullavagga, vii. 4 foll. (translated in S. B.
E., Vinaya Texts, iii. 256). See also vol. i. no. 11.
Next: No. 205. Gaṅgeyya-Jātaka
p. 103
No. 204.
VĪRAKA-JĀTAKA.
"O have you seen," etc.--This story the Master told, while dwelling at Jetavana,
about imitating the Buddha.
When the Elders had gone with their followers to visit Devadatta 1, the Master
asked Sāriputta what Devadatta had done when he saw them. The reply was that he
had imitated the Buddha. The Master rejoined, "Not now only has Devadatta
imitated me and thereby come to ruin; he did just the same before." Then, at the
Elder's request, he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[149] Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta reigned as king in Benares, the
Bodhisatta became a marsh crow, and dwelt by a certain pool. His name was
Vīraka, the Strong.
There arose a famine in Kāsi. Men could not spare food for the crows, nor make
offering to goblins and snakes. One by one the crows left the famine-stricken
land, and betook them to the woods.
A certain crow named Saviṭṭhaka, who lived at Benares, took with him his lady
crow and went to the place where Vīraka lived, making his abode beside the same
pool.
One day, this crow was seeking food about the pool. He saw how Vīraka went down
into it, and made a meal off some fish; and afterwards came up out of the water
again, and stood drying his feathers. "Under the wing of that crow," thought he,
"plenty of fish are to be got. I will become his servant." So he drew near.
"What is it, Sir?" asked Vīraka.
"I want to be your servant, my lord!" was the reply.
Vīraka agreed, and from that time the other served him. And from that time,
Vīraka used to eat enough fish to keep him alive, and the rest he gave to
Saviṭṭhaka as soon as he had caught them; and when Saviṭṭhaka had eaten enough
to keep him alive, he gave what was over to his wife.
After a while pride came into his heart. "This crow," said he, "is black, and so
am I: in eyes and beak and feet, too, there is no difference between us. I don't
want his fish; I will catch my own!" So he told Vīraka that for the future he
intended to go down to the water and catch fish himself. Then Vīraka said, "Good
friend, you do not belong to a
p. 104
tribe of such crows as are born to go into water and catch fish. Don't destroy
yourself!
But in spite of this attempt to dissuade him, Saviṭṭhaka did not take the
warning to heart. Down he went to the pool, down into the water; but he could
not make his way through the weeds and come out again--there he was, entangled
in the weeds, with only the tip of his beak appearing above the water. So not
being able to breathe he perished there beneath the water.
[150] His mate noticed that he did not return, and went to Vīraka to ask news of
him. "My lord," she asked, "Saviṭṭhaka is not to be seen: where is he?" And as
she asked him this, she repeated the first stanza:
"O have you seen Saviṭṭhaka, O Vīraka, have you seen
My sweet-voiced mate whose neck is like the peacock in its sheen?"
When Vīraka heard it, he replied, "Yes, I know where he is gone," and recited
the second stanza:--
"He was not born to dive beneath the wave,
But what he could not do he needs must try;
So the poor bird has found a watery grave,
Entangled in the weeds, and left to die."
When the Lady-crow heard it, weeping, she returned to Benares.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth: "Devadatta was
then incarnate as Saviṭṭhaka, and I myself was Vīraka."
Footnotes
103:1 Sāriputta and Moggallāna visited the arch-heretic to try if they could win
back his followers to the Master. The story of their visit, and how it
succeeded, is told in the Vinaya, Cullavagga, vii. 4 foll. (translated in S. B.
E., Vinaya Texts, iii. 256). See also vol. i. no. 11.
Next: No. 205. Gaṅgeyya-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Khandha Vatta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 203. Khandha-Vatta-Jātaka
No. 203 2.
KHANDHA-VATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Virūpakkha snakes I love," etc.--This story the Master told whilst living at
Jetavana, about a certain brother.
As he sat, we are told, at the door of his living room, chopping sticks, a snake
crept out of a rotten log, and bit his toe; he died on the spot. All the
monastery learnt how he had come by his sudden death. In the Hall of Truth
p. 101
they began talking about it; saying how Brother So-and-so was sitting at his
door, chopping wood, when a snake bit him, and he died immediately of the bite.
[145] The Master came in, and wanted to know what they were discussing as they
sat there together. They told him. Said he, "Brethren, if our brother had
practised kindness towards the four royal races of serpents, that snake would
not have bitten him: wise anchorites in by-gone days, before the Buddha was
born, by using kindness to these four royal races, were released from the fear
that sprang from these serpents." Then he told them an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, during the reign of Brahmadatta king of Benares, the
Bodhisatta came into the world as a young brahmin of Kāsi. When he came of age,
he quelled his passions and took upon him the life of an ascetic; he developed
the Supernatural Faculties and the Attainments; he built an hermitage by the
bend of the Ganges near the foot of Himalaya, and there he dwelt, surrounded by
a band of ascetics, lost in the rapture of meditation.
At that time there were many kinds of snakes upon the Ganges bank, which did
mischief to the hermits, and many of them perished by snake-bite. The ascetics
told the matter to the Bodhisatta. He summoned all the ascetics to meet him, and
thus addressed them: "If you showed goodwill to the four royal races of snakes,
no serpents would bite you. Therefore from this time forward do you show
goodwill to the four royal races." Then he added this verse:--
"Virūpakkha snakes I love,
Erāpatha snakes I love,
Chabbyāputta snakes I love,
Kaṇhāgotamas I love."
After thus naming the four royal families of the snakes, he added: "If you can
cultivate goodwill towards these, no snake creature will bite you or do you
harm." Then he repeated the second verse:--[146]
"Creatures all beneath the sun,
Two feet, four feet, more, or none--
How I love you, every one!"
Having declared the nature of the love within him, he uttered another verse by
way of prayer:
"Creatures all, two feet or four,
You with none, and you with more,
Do not hurt me, I implore!"
p. 102
Then again, in general terms, he repeated one verse more:--
"All ye creatures that have birth,
Breathe, and move upon the earth,
Happy be ye, one and all,
Never into mischief fall 1."
[147] Thus did he set forth how one must show love and goodwill to all creatures
without distinction; he reminded his hearers of the virtues of the Three
Treasures, saying--"Infinite is the Buddha, infinite the Law, and the Order
infinite." He said, "Remember the quality of the Three Treasures;" and thus
having shown them the infinity of the Three Treasures, and wishing to show them
that all beings are finite, he added, "Finite and measurable are creeping
things, snakes, scorpions, centipedes, spiders, lizards, mice." Then again, "As
the passions and lusts in these creatures are the qualities which make them
finite and limited, let us be protected night and day against these finite
things by the power of the Three Treasures, which are infinite: wherefore
remember the worth of the Three Treasures." Then he recited this stanza:--
"Now I am guarded safe, and fenced around;
Now let all creatures leave nee to my ground.
All honour to the Blessed One I pay,
And the seven Buddhas who have passed away."
[148] And bidding them also remember the seven Buddhas 2 whilst they did honour,
the Bodhisatta composed this guardian charm and delivered it to his band of
sages. Thenceforward the sages bore in mind the Bodhisatta's admonition, and
cherished love and goodwill, and remembered the Buddha's virtues. As they did
this, all the snake kind departed from them. And the Bodhisatta cultivated the
Excellencies, and attained to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"The
Buddha's followers were then the followers of the sage; and their Teacher was I
myself."
Footnotes
100:2 See Cullavagga v. 6 (iii. 75 in Vinaya Texts, S. B. E.), where the verses
occur again. The verses partly recur in the 'Bower MS,' a Sanskrit MS lately
found in the p. 101 ruins of an ancient city in Kashgaria (see J. P. T. S.,
1893, p. 64). The kinds of snakes mentioned cannot be identified. Snake charms
are extremely common in Sanskrit; there are many in the Atharva Veda.
102:1 All the verses hitherto given match, and are to be taken together as the
"First gāthā." The other is in a different metre, and is the "Second gāthā."
102:2 For the seven Buddhas, see Wilson, Select Works, ii. 5.
Next: No. 204. Vīraka-Jātaka
No. 203 2.
KHANDHA-VATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Virūpakkha snakes I love," etc.--This story the Master told whilst living at
Jetavana, about a certain brother.
As he sat, we are told, at the door of his living room, chopping sticks, a snake
crept out of a rotten log, and bit his toe; he died on the spot. All the
monastery learnt how he had come by his sudden death. In the Hall of Truth
p. 101
they began talking about it; saying how Brother So-and-so was sitting at his
door, chopping wood, when a snake bit him, and he died immediately of the bite.
[145] The Master came in, and wanted to know what they were discussing as they
sat there together. They told him. Said he, "Brethren, if our brother had
practised kindness towards the four royal races of serpents, that snake would
not have bitten him: wise anchorites in by-gone days, before the Buddha was
born, by using kindness to these four royal races, were released from the fear
that sprang from these serpents." Then he told them an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, during the reign of Brahmadatta king of Benares, the
Bodhisatta came into the world as a young brahmin of Kāsi. When he came of age,
he quelled his passions and took upon him the life of an ascetic; he developed
the Supernatural Faculties and the Attainments; he built an hermitage by the
bend of the Ganges near the foot of Himalaya, and there he dwelt, surrounded by
a band of ascetics, lost in the rapture of meditation.
At that time there were many kinds of snakes upon the Ganges bank, which did
mischief to the hermits, and many of them perished by snake-bite. The ascetics
told the matter to the Bodhisatta. He summoned all the ascetics to meet him, and
thus addressed them: "If you showed goodwill to the four royal races of snakes,
no serpents would bite you. Therefore from this time forward do you show
goodwill to the four royal races." Then he added this verse:--
"Virūpakkha snakes I love,
Erāpatha snakes I love,
Chabbyāputta snakes I love,
Kaṇhāgotamas I love."
After thus naming the four royal families of the snakes, he added: "If you can
cultivate goodwill towards these, no snake creature will bite you or do you
harm." Then he repeated the second verse:--[146]
"Creatures all beneath the sun,
Two feet, four feet, more, or none--
How I love you, every one!"
Having declared the nature of the love within him, he uttered another verse by
way of prayer:
"Creatures all, two feet or four,
You with none, and you with more,
Do not hurt me, I implore!"
p. 102
Then again, in general terms, he repeated one verse more:--
"All ye creatures that have birth,
Breathe, and move upon the earth,
Happy be ye, one and all,
Never into mischief fall 1."
[147] Thus did he set forth how one must show love and goodwill to all creatures
without distinction; he reminded his hearers of the virtues of the Three
Treasures, saying--"Infinite is the Buddha, infinite the Law, and the Order
infinite." He said, "Remember the quality of the Three Treasures;" and thus
having shown them the infinity of the Three Treasures, and wishing to show them
that all beings are finite, he added, "Finite and measurable are creeping
things, snakes, scorpions, centipedes, spiders, lizards, mice." Then again, "As
the passions and lusts in these creatures are the qualities which make them
finite and limited, let us be protected night and day against these finite
things by the power of the Three Treasures, which are infinite: wherefore
remember the worth of the Three Treasures." Then he recited this stanza:--
"Now I am guarded safe, and fenced around;
Now let all creatures leave nee to my ground.
All honour to the Blessed One I pay,
And the seven Buddhas who have passed away."
[148] And bidding them also remember the seven Buddhas 2 whilst they did honour,
the Bodhisatta composed this guardian charm and delivered it to his band of
sages. Thenceforward the sages bore in mind the Bodhisatta's admonition, and
cherished love and goodwill, and remembered the Buddha's virtues. As they did
this, all the snake kind departed from them. And the Bodhisatta cultivated the
Excellencies, and attained to Brahma's heaven.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"The
Buddha's followers were then the followers of the sage; and their Teacher was I
myself."
Footnotes
100:2 See Cullavagga v. 6 (iii. 75 in Vinaya Texts, S. B. E.), where the verses
occur again. The verses partly recur in the 'Bower MS,' a Sanskrit MS lately
found in the p. 101 ruins of an ancient city in Kashgaria (see J. P. T. S.,
1893, p. 64). The kinds of snakes mentioned cannot be identified. Snake charms
are extremely common in Sanskrit; there are many in the Atharva Veda.
102:1 All the verses hitherto given match, and are to be taken together as the
"First gāthā." The other is in a different metre, and is the "Second gāthā."
102:2 For the seven Buddhas, see Wilson, Select Works, ii. 5.
Next: No. 204. Vīraka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Keli-Sila Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 202. Keḷi-Sīla-Jātaka
No. 202.
KEḶI-SĪLA-JĀTAKA.
[142] "Geese, herons, elephants," etc.--This story the Master told while
dwelling at Jetavana, about Lakuṇṭaka the venerable and good.
Now this venerable Lakuṇṭaka, we learn, was well known in the faith of the
Buddha, a famous man, speaking sweet words, a honeyed preacher, of keen
discernment, with his passions perfectly subdued, but in stature the smallest of
all the eighty Elders, no bigger than a novice, like a dwarf kept for amusement.
One day, he had been to the gate of Jetavana to salute the Buddha, when thirty
brothers from the country arrived at the gate on their way to salute him too.
When they saw the Elder, they imagined him to be some novice; they pulled the
corner of his robe, they caught his hands, held his head, tweaked his nose, got
him by the ears and shook him, and handled him very rudely; then
p. 99
after putting aside their bowl and robe, they visited the Master and saluted
him. Next they asked him, "Sir, we understand that you have an Elder who goes by
the name of Lakuṇṭaka the Good, a honeyed preacher. Where is he?" "Do you want
to see him?" the Master asked. "Yes, Sir." "He is the man you saw by the gate,
and twitched his robe and pulled him about with great rudeness before you came
here." "Why, Sir," asked they, "how is it that a man devoted to prayer, full of
high aspirations, a true disciple--how is it he is so insignificant?" "Because
of his own sins," answered the Master; and at their request he told them an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when king Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, the Bodhisatta
became Sakka, king of the gods. Brahmadatta could not endure to look upon
anything old or decrepit, whether elephant, horse, ox, or what not. He was full
of pranks, and whenever he saw any such, he would chase them away; old carts he
had broken up; any old women that he saw he sent for, and beat upon the belly,
then stood them up again and gave them a scare; he made old men roll about and
play on the ground like tumblers. If he saw none, but only heard that there was
a greybeard in such and such a town, [143] he sent for him thence and took his
sport with him.
At this the people for very shame sent their parents outside the boundaries of
the kingdom. No more did men tend or care for their mother and father. The
king's friends were as wanton as he. As men died, they filled up the four 1
worlds of unhappiness; the company of the gods grew less and less.
Sakka saw that there were no newcomers among the gods; and he cast about him
what was to be done. At last he hit upon a plan. "I will humble him!" thought
Sakka; and he took upon him the form of an old man, and placing two jars of
buttermilk in a crazy old waggon, he yoked to it a pair of old oxen, and set out
upon a feast day. Brahmadatta, mounted upon a richly caparisoned elephant, was
making a solemn procession about the city, which was all decorated; and Sakka,
clad in rags, and driving this cart, came to meet the king. When the king saw
the old cart, he shouted, "Away with that cart, you!" But his people answered,
"Where is it, my lord? we cannot see any cart!" (for Sakka by his power let it
be seen by no one but the king). And, coming up to the king repeatedly, at last
Sakka, still driving his cart, smashed one of the jars upon the king's head, and
made him turn round; then he smashed the other in like manner. And the
buttermilk trickled down on either side of his head. Thus was the king plagued
and tormented, and made miserable by Sakka's doings.
p. 100
When Sakka saw his distress, he made the cart disappear, and took his proper
shape again. Poised in mid-air, thunderbolt in hand, he upbraided him--"O wicked
and unrighteous king! Will you never become old yourself? will not age assail
you? Yet you sport and mock, and do despite to those who are old! It is through
you alone, and these doings of yours, that men die on every hand, and fill up
the four worlds of unhappiness, and that men cannot care for their parents'
welfare! If you do not cease from this, I will cleave your head with my
thunderbolt. Go, and do so no more."
With this rebuke, he declared the worth of parents, and made known the advantage
of reverencing old age; after which discourse he departed to his own place. From
that time forward the king never so much as thought of doing anything like what
he had done before.
_____________________________
[144] This story ended, the Master, becoming perfectly enlightened, recited
these two couplets:--
"Geese, herons, elephants, and spotted deer
Though all unlike, alike the lion fear.
"Even so, a child is great if he be clever;
Fools may be big, but great they can be never 1."
When this discourse was ended, the Master declared the Truths and identified the
Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths some of those Brethren entered on the
First Path, some on the Second, and some upon the Fourth:--"The excellent
Lakuṇṭaka was the king in the story, who made people the butt for his jests and
then became a butt himself, whilst I myself was Sakka."
Footnotes
99:1 The four apāye = Hell, birth as an animal, birth as a peta (ghost), birth
among the asuras (Titans or fallen spirits).
100:1 These lines occur in Samyutta-Nikāya, pt. II. xxi. 6 (ii. p. 279, ed. P.
T. S.).
Next: No. 203. Khandha-Vatta-Jātaka
No. 202.
KEḶI-SĪLA-JĀTAKA.
[142] "Geese, herons, elephants," etc.--This story the Master told while
dwelling at Jetavana, about Lakuṇṭaka the venerable and good.
Now this venerable Lakuṇṭaka, we learn, was well known in the faith of the
Buddha, a famous man, speaking sweet words, a honeyed preacher, of keen
discernment, with his passions perfectly subdued, but in stature the smallest of
all the eighty Elders, no bigger than a novice, like a dwarf kept for amusement.
One day, he had been to the gate of Jetavana to salute the Buddha, when thirty
brothers from the country arrived at the gate on their way to salute him too.
When they saw the Elder, they imagined him to be some novice; they pulled the
corner of his robe, they caught his hands, held his head, tweaked his nose, got
him by the ears and shook him, and handled him very rudely; then
p. 99
after putting aside their bowl and robe, they visited the Master and saluted
him. Next they asked him, "Sir, we understand that you have an Elder who goes by
the name of Lakuṇṭaka the Good, a honeyed preacher. Where is he?" "Do you want
to see him?" the Master asked. "Yes, Sir." "He is the man you saw by the gate,
and twitched his robe and pulled him about with great rudeness before you came
here." "Why, Sir," asked they, "how is it that a man devoted to prayer, full of
high aspirations, a true disciple--how is it he is so insignificant?" "Because
of his own sins," answered the Master; and at their request he told them an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when king Brahmadatta reigned in Benares, the Bodhisatta
became Sakka, king of the gods. Brahmadatta could not endure to look upon
anything old or decrepit, whether elephant, horse, ox, or what not. He was full
of pranks, and whenever he saw any such, he would chase them away; old carts he
had broken up; any old women that he saw he sent for, and beat upon the belly,
then stood them up again and gave them a scare; he made old men roll about and
play on the ground like tumblers. If he saw none, but only heard that there was
a greybeard in such and such a town, [143] he sent for him thence and took his
sport with him.
At this the people for very shame sent their parents outside the boundaries of
the kingdom. No more did men tend or care for their mother and father. The
king's friends were as wanton as he. As men died, they filled up the four 1
worlds of unhappiness; the company of the gods grew less and less.
Sakka saw that there were no newcomers among the gods; and he cast about him
what was to be done. At last he hit upon a plan. "I will humble him!" thought
Sakka; and he took upon him the form of an old man, and placing two jars of
buttermilk in a crazy old waggon, he yoked to it a pair of old oxen, and set out
upon a feast day. Brahmadatta, mounted upon a richly caparisoned elephant, was
making a solemn procession about the city, which was all decorated; and Sakka,
clad in rags, and driving this cart, came to meet the king. When the king saw
the old cart, he shouted, "Away with that cart, you!" But his people answered,
"Where is it, my lord? we cannot see any cart!" (for Sakka by his power let it
be seen by no one but the king). And, coming up to the king repeatedly, at last
Sakka, still driving his cart, smashed one of the jars upon the king's head, and
made him turn round; then he smashed the other in like manner. And the
buttermilk trickled down on either side of his head. Thus was the king plagued
and tormented, and made miserable by Sakka's doings.
p. 100
When Sakka saw his distress, he made the cart disappear, and took his proper
shape again. Poised in mid-air, thunderbolt in hand, he upbraided him--"O wicked
and unrighteous king! Will you never become old yourself? will not age assail
you? Yet you sport and mock, and do despite to those who are old! It is through
you alone, and these doings of yours, that men die on every hand, and fill up
the four worlds of unhappiness, and that men cannot care for their parents'
welfare! If you do not cease from this, I will cleave your head with my
thunderbolt. Go, and do so no more."
With this rebuke, he declared the worth of parents, and made known the advantage
of reverencing old age; after which discourse he departed to his own place. From
that time forward the king never so much as thought of doing anything like what
he had done before.
_____________________________
[144] This story ended, the Master, becoming perfectly enlightened, recited
these two couplets:--
"Geese, herons, elephants, and spotted deer
Though all unlike, alike the lion fear.
"Even so, a child is great if he be clever;
Fools may be big, but great they can be never 1."
When this discourse was ended, the Master declared the Truths and identified the
Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths some of those Brethren entered on the
First Path, some on the Second, and some upon the Fourth:--"The excellent
Lakuṇṭaka was the king in the story, who made people the butt for his jests and
then became a butt himself, whilst I myself was Sakka."
Footnotes
99:1 The four apāye = Hell, birth as an animal, birth as a peta (ghost), birth
among the asuras (Titans or fallen spirits).
100:1 These lines occur in Samyutta-Nikāya, pt. II. xxi. 6 (ii. p. 279, ed. P.
T. S.).
Next: No. 203. Khandha-Vatta-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Bandhanagara Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 201. Bandhanāgāra-Jātaka
No. 201.
BANDHANĀGĀRA-JĀTAKA.
[139] "Not iron fetters," etc.--This story the Master told whilst staying in
Jetavana, about the prison-house.
At the time of this story we hear that a gang of burglars, highwaymen, and
murderers had been caught and haled before the king of Kosala. The king ordered
them to be made fast with chains, and ropes, and fetters. Thirty country
Brothers, desirous of seeing the Master, had paid him a visit and offered their
salutations. Next day, as they were seeking alms, they passed the prison and
noticed these rascals. In the evening, after their return from the day's rounds,
they approached the Buddha: "Sir," they said, "to-day, as we were seeking alms,
we saw in the prison-house a number of criminals bound fast in chains and
fetters, being in great misery. They could not break these fetters, and run
away. Is there any fetter stronger than these?"
The Master replied, "Brethren, those are fetters, it is true; but the fetters
which consist of a craving for wealth, corn, sons, wives and children are
stronger than they are an hundred-fold, nay a thousand-fold. Yet even those
fetters, hard to break as they are, have been broken by wise men of the olden
time, who went to Himalaya and became anchorites." Then he told them an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta ruled over Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a poor man's family. When he grew up, his father died. He earned wages, and
supported his mother. His mother, much against his will, brought a wife home for
him, and soon after died. Now his wife conceived. Not knowing that she had
conceived, he said to her, "Wife, you must earn your living; I will renounce the
world." Then said she, "Nay, for I am with child. [140] Wait and see the child
that is born of me, and then go and become a hermit." To this he agreed. So when
she was delivered, he said, "Now, wife, you are safely delivered, and I must
turn hermit." "Wait," said she, "till the time when the child is weaned." And
after that she conceived again.
"If I agree to her request," thought the Bodhisatta, "I shall never get away at
all. I will flee without saying a word to her, and become a hermit." So he told
her nothing, but rose up in the night, and fled away.
p. 98
The city guards seized him. "I have a mother to support," said he--"let me go!"
thus he made them let him go free, and after staying in a certain place, he
passed out by the chief gate and made his way to the Himalayas, where he lived
as a recluse; and caused the Supernatural Faculties and the Attainments to
spring up within him, as he dwelt in the rapture of meditation. As he dwelt
there, he exulted, saying--"The bond of wife and child, the bond of passion, so
hard to break, is broken!" and he uttered these lines:--
"Not iron fetters--so the wise have told--
Not ropes, or bars of wood, so fast can hold
As passion, and the love of child or wife,
Of precious gems and earrings of fine gold.
"These heavy fetters--who is there can find
Release from such?--these are the ties that bind:
These if the wise can burst, then they are free,
Leaving all love and all desire behind!"
[141] And the Bodhisatta, after uttering this aspiration, without breaking the
charm of his ecstasy attained to Brahma's world.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths:--at the
conclusion of the Truths, some entered the First Path, some the Second, some the
Third, and some the Fourth:--"In the story, Mahāmāyā was the mother, King
Suddhodana was the father, Rāhula s mother was the wife, Rāhula himself the son,
and I was the man who left his family and became an anchorite."
Next: No. 202. Keḷi-Sīla-Jātaka
No. 201.
BANDHANĀGĀRA-JĀTAKA.
[139] "Not iron fetters," etc.--This story the Master told whilst staying in
Jetavana, about the prison-house.
At the time of this story we hear that a gang of burglars, highwaymen, and
murderers had been caught and haled before the king of Kosala. The king ordered
them to be made fast with chains, and ropes, and fetters. Thirty country
Brothers, desirous of seeing the Master, had paid him a visit and offered their
salutations. Next day, as they were seeking alms, they passed the prison and
noticed these rascals. In the evening, after their return from the day's rounds,
they approached the Buddha: "Sir," they said, "to-day, as we were seeking alms,
we saw in the prison-house a number of criminals bound fast in chains and
fetters, being in great misery. They could not break these fetters, and run
away. Is there any fetter stronger than these?"
The Master replied, "Brethren, those are fetters, it is true; but the fetters
which consist of a craving for wealth, corn, sons, wives and children are
stronger than they are an hundred-fold, nay a thousand-fold. Yet even those
fetters, hard to break as they are, have been broken by wise men of the olden
time, who went to Himalaya and became anchorites." Then he told them an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta ruled over Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a poor man's family. When he grew up, his father died. He earned wages, and
supported his mother. His mother, much against his will, brought a wife home for
him, and soon after died. Now his wife conceived. Not knowing that she had
conceived, he said to her, "Wife, you must earn your living; I will renounce the
world." Then said she, "Nay, for I am with child. [140] Wait and see the child
that is born of me, and then go and become a hermit." To this he agreed. So when
she was delivered, he said, "Now, wife, you are safely delivered, and I must
turn hermit." "Wait," said she, "till the time when the child is weaned." And
after that she conceived again.
"If I agree to her request," thought the Bodhisatta, "I shall never get away at
all. I will flee without saying a word to her, and become a hermit." So he told
her nothing, but rose up in the night, and fled away.
p. 98
The city guards seized him. "I have a mother to support," said he--"let me go!"
thus he made them let him go free, and after staying in a certain place, he
passed out by the chief gate and made his way to the Himalayas, where he lived
as a recluse; and caused the Supernatural Faculties and the Attainments to
spring up within him, as he dwelt in the rapture of meditation. As he dwelt
there, he exulted, saying--"The bond of wife and child, the bond of passion, so
hard to break, is broken!" and he uttered these lines:--
"Not iron fetters--so the wise have told--
Not ropes, or bars of wood, so fast can hold
As passion, and the love of child or wife,
Of precious gems and earrings of fine gold.
"These heavy fetters--who is there can find
Release from such?--these are the ties that bind:
These if the wise can burst, then they are free,
Leaving all love and all desire behind!"
[141] And the Bodhisatta, after uttering this aspiration, without breaking the
charm of his ecstasy attained to Brahma's world.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths:--at the
conclusion of the Truths, some entered the First Path, some the Second, some the
Third, and some the Fourth:--"In the story, Mahāmāyā was the mother, King
Suddhodana was the father, Rāhula s mother was the wife, Rāhula himself the son,
and I was the man who left his family and became an anchorite."
Next: No. 202. Keḷi-Sīla-Jātaka
Monday, May 16, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Sadhusila Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 200. Sādhusīla-Jātaka
p. 96
No. 200.
SĀDHUSĪLA-JĀTAKA.
"One is good," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana,
about a brahmin.
This man, we are told, had four daughters. Four suitors wooed them; one was fine
and handsome, one was old and well advanced in years, the third a man of family,
and the fourth was good. He thought to himself, "When a man is settling his
daughters and disposing of them, whom should he give them to? the handsome man
or the oldish man, or one of the other two, the highly born or the very virtuous
man?" Ponder as he would, he could not decide. So he thought he would tell the
matter to the Supreme Buddha, who would be sure to know; and then he would give
the girls to the most suitable wooer. So he had a quantity of perfumes and
garlands prepared, and visited the monastery. Saluting the Master, he sat on one
side, and told him everything from beginning to end; then he asked, "To which of
these four should I give my daughters?" To this the Master replied, "In olden
days, as now, wise men asked this question; but now that rebirth has confused
your memory, you cannot remember the case." And then at his request the Master
told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta ruled in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born as
a brahmin's son. He came of age, and received his education at Takkasilā; then
on returning he became a famous teacher.
Now there was a brahmin who had four daughters. These four were wooed by four
persons as told above. The brahmin could not decide to whom to give them. "I
will enquire of the teacher," he thought, "and then he shall have them to whom
they should be given." So he came into the teacher's presence, and repeated the
first couplet:
"One is good, and one is noble; one has beauty, one has years. Answer me this
question, brahmin; of the four, which best appears?"
[138] Hearing this, the teacher replied, "Even though there be beauty and the
like qualities, a man is to be despised if he fail in virtue. Therefore the
former is not the measure of a man; those that I like are the virtuous." And in
explanation of this matter, he repeated the second couplet:
"Good is beauty: to the aged show respect, for this is right:
Good is noble birth; but virtue--virtue, that is my delight."
When the brahmin heard this, he gave all his daughters to the virtuous wooer.
_____________________________
p. 97
The Master, when this discourse was ended, declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the brahmin attained the Fruit of
the First Path:--"This brahmin was the brahmin then, and the famous teacher was
I myself."
Next: No. 201. Bandhanāgāra-Jātaka
p. 96
No. 200.
SĀDHUSĪLA-JĀTAKA.
"One is good," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana,
about a brahmin.
This man, we are told, had four daughters. Four suitors wooed them; one was fine
and handsome, one was old and well advanced in years, the third a man of family,
and the fourth was good. He thought to himself, "When a man is settling his
daughters and disposing of them, whom should he give them to? the handsome man
or the oldish man, or one of the other two, the highly born or the very virtuous
man?" Ponder as he would, he could not decide. So he thought he would tell the
matter to the Supreme Buddha, who would be sure to know; and then he would give
the girls to the most suitable wooer. So he had a quantity of perfumes and
garlands prepared, and visited the monastery. Saluting the Master, he sat on one
side, and told him everything from beginning to end; then he asked, "To which of
these four should I give my daughters?" To this the Master replied, "In olden
days, as now, wise men asked this question; but now that rebirth has confused
your memory, you cannot remember the case." And then at his request the Master
told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta ruled in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born as
a brahmin's son. He came of age, and received his education at Takkasilā; then
on returning he became a famous teacher.
Now there was a brahmin who had four daughters. These four were wooed by four
persons as told above. The brahmin could not decide to whom to give them. "I
will enquire of the teacher," he thought, "and then he shall have them to whom
they should be given." So he came into the teacher's presence, and repeated the
first couplet:
"One is good, and one is noble; one has beauty, one has years. Answer me this
question, brahmin; of the four, which best appears?"
[138] Hearing this, the teacher replied, "Even though there be beauty and the
like qualities, a man is to be despised if he fail in virtue. Therefore the
former is not the measure of a man; those that I like are the virtuous." And in
explanation of this matter, he repeated the second couplet:
"Good is beauty: to the aged show respect, for this is right:
Good is noble birth; but virtue--virtue, that is my delight."
When the brahmin heard this, he gave all his daughters to the virtuous wooer.
_____________________________
p. 97
The Master, when this discourse was ended, declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the brahmin attained the Fruit of
the First Path:--"This brahmin was the brahmin then, and the famous teacher was
I myself."
Next: No. 201. Bandhanāgāra-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Gahapati Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 199. Gahapati-Jātaka
No. 199.
GAHAPATI-JĀTAKA.
"I like not this," etc.--This story the Master told, also about a backsliding
Brother, during a sojourn in Jetavana, and in the course of his address he said,
"Womankind can never be kept right; somehow or other they will sin and trick
their husbands." And then he told the following story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, in the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born in the realm of Kāsi as a householder's son: and coming of age he
married and settled down. Now his wife was a wicked woman, and she intrigued
with the village headman. The Bodhisatta got wind of it, and bethought him how
he might put her to the test. [135]
At that time all the grain had been carried away during the rainy season, and
there was a famine. But it was the time when the corn had just sprouted; and all
the villagers came together, and besought help of their headman, saying, "Two
months from now, when we have harvested the grain, we will pay you in kind"; so
they got an old ox from him, and ate it.
One day, the headman watched his chance, and when the Bodhisatta was gone abroad
he visited the house. Just as the two were happy together, the Bodhisatta came
in by the village gate, and set his face towards home. The woman was looking
towards the village gate, and saw him. "Why, who's this?" she wondered, looking
at him as he stood on the threshold. "It is he!" She knew him, and she told the
headman. He trembled in terror.
p. 95
"Don't be afraid," said the woman, "I have a plan. You know we have had meat
from you to eat: make as though you were seeking the price of the meat; I will
climb up into the granary; and stand at the door of it, crying. 'No rice here!'
while you must stand in the middle of the room, and call out insisting, again
and again, 'I have children at home; give me the price of the meat! '
So saying, she climbed up to the granary, and sat in the door of it. The other
stood in the midst of the house, and cried, "Give me the price of the meat':"
while she replied, sitting at the granary door, "There is no rice in the
granary; I will give it when the harvest is home: leave me now!"
The goodman entered the house, and saw what they were about.
"This must be that wicked woman's plan," he thought, and he called to the
headman.
"Sir Headman, when we had some of your old ox to eat, we promised to give you
rice for it in two months' time. Not half a month has passed; then why do you
try to make us pay now? That's not the reason you are here: you must have come
for something else. I don't like your ways. That wicked and sinful woman yonder
knows that there is no rice in the garner, but she has climbed up, and there she
sits, crying [136] 'No rice here!' and you cry 'Give!' I don't like your doings,
either of you!" and to make his meaning clear, he uttered these lines:--
"I like not this, I like not that; I like not her, I say,
Who stands beside the granary, and cries 'I cannot pay!'
"Nor you, nor you, Sir! listen now:--my means and store are small;
You gave me once a skinny cow, and two months' grace withal;
Now, ere the day, you bid me pay! I like it not at all."
So saying, he seized the headman by the lock of hair on the top of his head,
dragged him out into the courtyard, threw him down, and as he cried, "I'm the
Headman!" mocked him thus--"Damages, please, for injury done to the chattels
under another man's watch and ward!" while he thrashed him till the man was
faint. Then he took him by the neck and cast him out of the house. The wicked
woman he seized by the hair of her head, pulled her away from the garner,
knocked her down, and threatened her--"If you ever do this kind of thing again,
I'll make you remember it!"
From that day forward the headman durst not even look at that house, and the
woman did not dare to transgress even in thought.
_____________________________
[137] When this discourse was ended, the Master declared- the Truths, at the
conclusion of which the backsliding Brother reached the Fruit of the First
Path:--"The goodman who punished that headman was I myself."
Next: No. 200. Sādhusīla-Jātaka
No. 199.
GAHAPATI-JĀTAKA.
"I like not this," etc.--This story the Master told, also about a backsliding
Brother, during a sojourn in Jetavana, and in the course of his address he said,
"Womankind can never be kept right; somehow or other they will sin and trick
their husbands." And then he told the following story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, in the reign of Brahmadatta, king of Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born in the realm of Kāsi as a householder's son: and coming of age he
married and settled down. Now his wife was a wicked woman, and she intrigued
with the village headman. The Bodhisatta got wind of it, and bethought him how
he might put her to the test. [135]
At that time all the grain had been carried away during the rainy season, and
there was a famine. But it was the time when the corn had just sprouted; and all
the villagers came together, and besought help of their headman, saying, "Two
months from now, when we have harvested the grain, we will pay you in kind"; so
they got an old ox from him, and ate it.
One day, the headman watched his chance, and when the Bodhisatta was gone abroad
he visited the house. Just as the two were happy together, the Bodhisatta came
in by the village gate, and set his face towards home. The woman was looking
towards the village gate, and saw him. "Why, who's this?" she wondered, looking
at him as he stood on the threshold. "It is he!" She knew him, and she told the
headman. He trembled in terror.
p. 95
"Don't be afraid," said the woman, "I have a plan. You know we have had meat
from you to eat: make as though you were seeking the price of the meat; I will
climb up into the granary; and stand at the door of it, crying. 'No rice here!'
while you must stand in the middle of the room, and call out insisting, again
and again, 'I have children at home; give me the price of the meat! '
So saying, she climbed up to the granary, and sat in the door of it. The other
stood in the midst of the house, and cried, "Give me the price of the meat':"
while she replied, sitting at the granary door, "There is no rice in the
granary; I will give it when the harvest is home: leave me now!"
The goodman entered the house, and saw what they were about.
"This must be that wicked woman's plan," he thought, and he called to the
headman.
"Sir Headman, when we had some of your old ox to eat, we promised to give you
rice for it in two months' time. Not half a month has passed; then why do you
try to make us pay now? That's not the reason you are here: you must have come
for something else. I don't like your ways. That wicked and sinful woman yonder
knows that there is no rice in the garner, but she has climbed up, and there she
sits, crying [136] 'No rice here!' and you cry 'Give!' I don't like your doings,
either of you!" and to make his meaning clear, he uttered these lines:--
"I like not this, I like not that; I like not her, I say,
Who stands beside the granary, and cries 'I cannot pay!'
"Nor you, nor you, Sir! listen now:--my means and store are small;
You gave me once a skinny cow, and two months' grace withal;
Now, ere the day, you bid me pay! I like it not at all."
So saying, he seized the headman by the lock of hair on the top of his head,
dragged him out into the courtyard, threw him down, and as he cried, "I'm the
Headman!" mocked him thus--"Damages, please, for injury done to the chattels
under another man's watch and ward!" while he thrashed him till the man was
faint. Then he took him by the neck and cast him out of the house. The wicked
woman he seized by the hair of her head, pulled her away from the garner,
knocked her down, and threatened her--"If you ever do this kind of thing again,
I'll make you remember it!"
From that day forward the headman durst not even look at that house, and the
woman did not dare to transgress even in thought.
_____________________________
[137] When this discourse was ended, the Master declared- the Truths, at the
conclusion of which the backsliding Brother reached the Fruit of the First
Path:--"The goodman who punished that headman was I myself."
Next: No. 200. Sādhusīla-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 198.
No. 198 1.
"I come, my son," etc.--This story the Master told whilst living at Jetavana,
about a brother who was a backslider.
We hear that the Master asked him if he really were a backslider; and he
replied, yes, he was. Being asked the reason, he replied, "Because my passions
p. 93
were aroused on seeing a woman in her finery." Then the Master said, "Brother,
there is no watching women. In days of yore, watchers were placed to guard the
doors, and yet they could not keep them safe; even when you have got them, you
cannot keep them." And he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
the world as a young parrot. His name was Rādha, and his youngest brother was
named Poṭṭhapāda. While they were yet quite young, both of them were caught by a
fowler and handed over to a brahmin in Benares. The brahmin cared for them as if
they were his children. [133] But the brahmin's wife was a wicked woman; there
was no watching her.
The husband had to go away on business, and addressed his young parrots thus.
"Little dears, I am going away on business. Keep watch on your mother in season
and out of season; observe whether or not any man visits her." So off he went,
leaving his wife in charge of the young parrots.
As soon as he was gone, the woman began to do wrong; night and day the visitors
came and went--there was no end to them. Poṭṭhapāda, observing this, said to
Rādha--"Our master gave this woman into our charge, and here she is doing
wickedness. I will speak to her."
"Don't," said Rādha. But the other would not listen. "Mother," said he, "why do
you commit sin?"
How she longed to kill him! But making as though she would fondle him, she
called him to her.
"Little one, you are my son! I will never do it again! Here, then, the dear!" So
he came out; then she seized him crying,
"What! you preach to me! you don't know your measure!" and she wrung his neck,
and threw him into the oven.
The brahmin returned. When he had rested, he asked the Bodhisatta:
"Well, my dear, what about your mother--does she do wrong, or no?" and as he
asked the question, he repeated the first couplet:--
"I come, my son, the journey done, and now I am at home again:
Come tell me; is your mother true? does she make love to other men?"
Rādha answered, "Father dear, the wise speak not of things which do not conduce
to blessing, whether they have happened or not"; and he explained this by
repeating the second couplet: [134]
"For what he said he now lies dead, burnt up beneath the ashes there:
It is not well the truth to tell, lest Poṭṭhapāda's fate I share."
p. 94
Thus did the Bodhisatta hold forth to the Brahmin; and he went on--"This is no
place for me to live in either"; then bidding the brahmin farewell, he flew away
to the woods.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths, and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the backsliding Brother reached the
Fruit of the First Path:--"Ānanda was Poṭṭhapāda, and I myself was Rādha."
Footnotes
92:1 There are many variants of this story. Compare Gesta Romanorum, (Early Eng.
Text Soc.), no. 45, pp. 174 ff.; Boke of the Knight de la Tour Landry (same
series), p. 22. Compare no. 145.
Next: No. 199. Gahapati-Jātaka
No. 198 1.
"I come, my son," etc.--This story the Master told whilst living at Jetavana,
about a brother who was a backslider.
We hear that the Master asked him if he really were a backslider; and he
replied, yes, he was. Being asked the reason, he replied, "Because my passions
p. 93
were aroused on seeing a woman in her finery." Then the Master said, "Brother,
there is no watching women. In days of yore, watchers were placed to guard the
doors, and yet they could not keep them safe; even when you have got them, you
cannot keep them." And he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
the world as a young parrot. His name was Rādha, and his youngest brother was
named Poṭṭhapāda. While they were yet quite young, both of them were caught by a
fowler and handed over to a brahmin in Benares. The brahmin cared for them as if
they were his children. [133] But the brahmin's wife was a wicked woman; there
was no watching her.
The husband had to go away on business, and addressed his young parrots thus.
"Little dears, I am going away on business. Keep watch on your mother in season
and out of season; observe whether or not any man visits her." So off he went,
leaving his wife in charge of the young parrots.
As soon as he was gone, the woman began to do wrong; night and day the visitors
came and went--there was no end to them. Poṭṭhapāda, observing this, said to
Rādha--"Our master gave this woman into our charge, and here she is doing
wickedness. I will speak to her."
"Don't," said Rādha. But the other would not listen. "Mother," said he, "why do
you commit sin?"
How she longed to kill him! But making as though she would fondle him, she
called him to her.
"Little one, you are my son! I will never do it again! Here, then, the dear!" So
he came out; then she seized him crying,
"What! you preach to me! you don't know your measure!" and she wrung his neck,
and threw him into the oven.
The brahmin returned. When he had rested, he asked the Bodhisatta:
"Well, my dear, what about your mother--does she do wrong, or no?" and as he
asked the question, he repeated the first couplet:--
"I come, my son, the journey done, and now I am at home again:
Come tell me; is your mother true? does she make love to other men?"
Rādha answered, "Father dear, the wise speak not of things which do not conduce
to blessing, whether they have happened or not"; and he explained this by
repeating the second couplet: [134]
"For what he said he now lies dead, burnt up beneath the ashes there:
It is not well the truth to tell, lest Poṭṭhapāda's fate I share."
p. 94
Thus did the Bodhisatta hold forth to the Brahmin; and he went on--"This is no
place for me to live in either"; then bidding the brahmin farewell, he flew away
to the woods.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths, and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the backsliding Brother reached the
Fruit of the First Path:--"Ānanda was Poṭṭhapāda, and I myself was Rādha."
Footnotes
92:1 There are many variants of this story. Compare Gesta Romanorum, (Early Eng.
Text Soc.), no. 45, pp. 174 ff.; Boke of the Knight de la Tour Landry (same
series), p. 22. Compare no. 145.
Next: No. 199. Gahapati-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Mittamitta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 197. Mittāmitta-Jātaka
No. 197.
MITTĀMITTA-JĀTAKA.
"He smiles not," etc.--This story the Master told whilst dwelling at Sāvatthi,
about a certain Brother.
This Brother took a piece of cloth, deposited by his teacher, feeling confident
that if he took it his teacher would not be angry. Then he made a shoe-bag of
it, and took his leave. When this teacher asked why he took it, he replied he
had felt confident, if he did, that his teacher would not be angry. The teacher
flew into a passion, [131] got up and struck him a blow. "What confidence is
there between you and me?" he asked.
This fact became known among the Brotherhood. One day the brothers were all
together talking about it in the Hall of Truth. "Friend, young Brother
p. 92
[paragraph continues] So-and-so felt so confident of his teacher's friendship,
that he took a piece of cloth, and made it into a shoe-bag. Then the teacher
asked him what confidence there was between them, flew into a passion, jumped
up, and gave him a blow." The Master came in, and asked them what they were
talking of as they sat there together. They told him. Then he said, "This is not
the first time, Brothers, that this man has disappointed the confidence of his
fellow. He did the same before." And then he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as a brahmin's son in the realm of Kāsi. When he came of age, he renounced the
world; he caused to grow in him the Supernatural Faculties and the Attainments,
and took up his abode in the region of Himalaya with a band of disciples. One of
this band of ascetics disobeyed the voice of the Bodhisatta, and kept a young
elephant which had lost its dam. This creature by and by grew big, then killed
its master and made off into the forest. The ascetics did his obsequies; and
then, coming about the Bodhisatta, they put this question to him.
"Sir, how may we know whether one is a friend or an enemy?"
This the Bodhisatta declared to them in the following stanzas:--
"He smiles not when he sees him, no welcome will he show,
He will not turn his eyes that way, and answers him with No.
"These are the marks and tokens by which your foe you see:
These if a wise man sees and hears he knows his enemy."
[132] In these words the Bodhisatta declared the marks of friend and foe.
Thereafter he cultivated the Excellences, and entered the heaven of Brahma.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"The Brother
in question was he who kept the pet elephant, his teacher was the elephant, the
Buddha's followers were then the band of hermits, and I myself was their chief."
Next: No. 198.
No. 197.
MITTĀMITTA-JĀTAKA.
"He smiles not," etc.--This story the Master told whilst dwelling at Sāvatthi,
about a certain Brother.
This Brother took a piece of cloth, deposited by his teacher, feeling confident
that if he took it his teacher would not be angry. Then he made a shoe-bag of
it, and took his leave. When this teacher asked why he took it, he replied he
had felt confident, if he did, that his teacher would not be angry. The teacher
flew into a passion, [131] got up and struck him a blow. "What confidence is
there between you and me?" he asked.
This fact became known among the Brotherhood. One day the brothers were all
together talking about it in the Hall of Truth. "Friend, young Brother
p. 92
[paragraph continues] So-and-so felt so confident of his teacher's friendship,
that he took a piece of cloth, and made it into a shoe-bag. Then the teacher
asked him what confidence there was between them, flew into a passion, jumped
up, and gave him a blow." The Master came in, and asked them what they were
talking of as they sat there together. They told him. Then he said, "This is not
the first time, Brothers, that this man has disappointed the confidence of his
fellow. He did the same before." And then he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
as a brahmin's son in the realm of Kāsi. When he came of age, he renounced the
world; he caused to grow in him the Supernatural Faculties and the Attainments,
and took up his abode in the region of Himalaya with a band of disciples. One of
this band of ascetics disobeyed the voice of the Bodhisatta, and kept a young
elephant which had lost its dam. This creature by and by grew big, then killed
its master and made off into the forest. The ascetics did his obsequies; and
then, coming about the Bodhisatta, they put this question to him.
"Sir, how may we know whether one is a friend or an enemy?"
This the Bodhisatta declared to them in the following stanzas:--
"He smiles not when he sees him, no welcome will he show,
He will not turn his eyes that way, and answers him with No.
"These are the marks and tokens by which your foe you see:
These if a wise man sees and hears he knows his enemy."
[132] In these words the Bodhisatta declared the marks of friend and foe.
Thereafter he cultivated the Excellences, and entered the heaven of Brahma.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"The Brother
in question was he who kept the pet elephant, his teacher was the elephant, the
Buddha's followers were then the band of hermits, and I myself was their chief."
Next: No. 198.
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Valahassa Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 196. Valāhassa-Jātaka
No. 196.
VALĀHASSA-JĀTAKA.
"They who will neglect," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in
Jetavana, about a Brother who had become a backslider.
When the Master asked him if it was really true that he was a backslider, the
Brother replied that it was true. Being questioned for the reason, he replied
that his passion had been aroused by seeing a finely dressed woman. Then the
Master thus addressed him:
"Brother, these women tempt men by their figure and voice, scents, perfumes, and
touch, and by their wiles and dalliance; thus they get men into their power; and
as soon as they perceive that this is done, they ruin them, character, wealth
and all, by their evil ways. This gives them the name of she-goblins. In former
days also a troop of she-goblins tempted a caravan of traders, and got power
over them; and afterwards, when they got sight of other men, they killed every
one of the first, and then devoured them, crunching them in their teeth while
the blood ran down over both cheeks." And then he told an old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, there was in the island of Ceylon a goblin town called
Sirīsavatthu, peopled by she-goblins. When a ship is wrecked, these adorn and
deck themselves, and taking rice and gruel, with trains of slaves, and their
children on their hip, they come up to the merchants. [128] In order to make
them imagine that theirs is a city of human beings, they make them see here and
there men ploughing and tending kine, herds of cattle, dogs, and the like. Then
approaching the merchants they invite them to partake of the gruel, rice, and
other food which they bring. The merchants, all unaware, eat of what is offered.
When they have eaten and drunken, and are taking their rest, the goblins address
them thus: "Where do you live? where do you come from? whither are you going,
and what errand brought you here?" "We were shipwrecked here," they reply. "Very
good, noble sirs," the others make answer; "’tis three years ago since our own
husbands went on board ship; they
p. 90
must have perished. You are merchants too; we will be your wives." Thus they
lead them astray by their women's wiles, and tricks, and dalliance, until they
get them into the goblin city; then, if they have any others already caught,
they bind these with magic chains, and cast them into the house of torment. And
if they find no shipwrecked men in the place where they dwell, they scour the
coast as far as the river Kalyāṇi 1 on one side and the island of Nāgadīpa on
the other. This is their way.
Now it happened once that five hundred shipwrecked traders were cast ashore near
the city of these she-goblins. The goblins came up to them and enticed them,
till they brought them to their city; those whom they had caught before, they
bound with magic chains and cast them into the house of torment. Then the chief
goblin took the chief man, and the others took the rest, till five hundred had
the five hundred traders; and they made the men their husbands. Then in the
night time, when her man was asleep, the chief she-goblin rose up, and made her
way to the house of death, slew some of the men and ate them. The others did the
same. When the eldest goblin returned from eating men's flesh, her body was
cold. The eldest merchant embraced her, and perceived that she was a goblin.
[129] "All the five hundred of them must be goblins!" he thought to himself: "we
must make our escape!"
So in the early morning, when he went to wash his face, he bespake the other
merchants in these words. "These are goblins, and not human beings! As soon as
other shipwrecked men can be found, they will make them their husbands, and will
eat us; come--let us escape!"
Two hundred and fifty of them replied, "We cannot leave them: go ye, if ye will,
but we will not flee away."
Then the chief trader with two hundred and fifty, who were ready to obey him,
fled away in fear of the goblins.
Now at that time, the Bodhisatta had come into the world as a flying horse 2,
white all over, and beaked like a crow, with hair like muñja grass 3, possessed
of supernatural power, able to fly through the air. From Himalaya he flew
through the air until he came to Ceylon. There he passed over the ponds and
tanks of Ceylon, and ate the paddy that grew wild there. As he passed on thus,
he thrice uttered human speech filled with mercy, saying--"Who wants to go home?
who wants to go home? "The traders heard his saying, and cried--"We are going
home, master!" joining their hands, and raising them respectfully to their
foreheads. "Then climb up on my back," said the Bodhisatta. Thereat some of
p. 91
them climbed up, some laid hold of his tail, and some remained standing, with a
respectful salute. Then the Bodhisatta took up even those who stood still
saluting him, and conveyed all of them, even two hundred and fifty, to their own
country, and set down each in his own place; then he went back to his place of
dwelling.
And the she-goblins, when other men came to that place, slew those two hundred
and fifty who were left, and devoured them.
_____________________________
The Master now said, addressing the Brethren: "Brethren, even as these traders
perished by falling into the hands of she-goblins, but the others by obeying the
behest of the wonderful horse each returned safe home again; so, even so, they
who neglect the advice of the Buddhas, both Brethren and Sisters, lay Brethren
and lay Sisters, [130] come to great misery in the four hells, places where they
are punished under the five fetters, and so forth. But those who abide by such
advice come to the three kinds of fortunate birth, the six heavens of sense, the
twenty worlds of Brahma, and reaching the state of imperishable Nirvana they
attain great blessedness." Then, becoming perfectly enlightened, he recited the
following verses:
"They who will neglect the Buddha when he tells them what to do, As the goblins
ate the merchants, likewise they shall perish too.
"They who hearken to the Buddha when he tells them what to do, As the bird-horse
saved the merchants, they shall win salvation too."
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the backsliding Brother entered on
the Fruit of the First Path, and many others entered on the Fruit of the First,
Second, Third or Fourth:--"The Buddha's followers were the two hundred and fifty
who followed the advice of the horse, and I was the horse myself."
Footnotes
90:1 The modern Kaelani-gaṅgā (Journ. of the Pāli Text Soc., 1888, p. 20).
90:2 On one side of a pillar in a Buddhist railing at Mathura, is a flying horse
with people clinging to it, perhaps intended for this scene (Anderson, Catalogue
of the Indian Museum, i. p. 189).
90:3 Saccharum Muñja.
Next: No. 197. Mittāmitta-Jātaka
No. 196.
VALĀHASSA-JĀTAKA.
"They who will neglect," etc.--This story the Master told while staying in
Jetavana, about a Brother who had become a backslider.
When the Master asked him if it was really true that he was a backslider, the
Brother replied that it was true. Being questioned for the reason, he replied
that his passion had been aroused by seeing a finely dressed woman. Then the
Master thus addressed him:
"Brother, these women tempt men by their figure and voice, scents, perfumes, and
touch, and by their wiles and dalliance; thus they get men into their power; and
as soon as they perceive that this is done, they ruin them, character, wealth
and all, by their evil ways. This gives them the name of she-goblins. In former
days also a troop of she-goblins tempted a caravan of traders, and got power
over them; and afterwards, when they got sight of other men, they killed every
one of the first, and then devoured them, crunching them in their teeth while
the blood ran down over both cheeks." And then he told an old story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, there was in the island of Ceylon a goblin town called
Sirīsavatthu, peopled by she-goblins. When a ship is wrecked, these adorn and
deck themselves, and taking rice and gruel, with trains of slaves, and their
children on their hip, they come up to the merchants. [128] In order to make
them imagine that theirs is a city of human beings, they make them see here and
there men ploughing and tending kine, herds of cattle, dogs, and the like. Then
approaching the merchants they invite them to partake of the gruel, rice, and
other food which they bring. The merchants, all unaware, eat of what is offered.
When they have eaten and drunken, and are taking their rest, the goblins address
them thus: "Where do you live? where do you come from? whither are you going,
and what errand brought you here?" "We were shipwrecked here," they reply. "Very
good, noble sirs," the others make answer; "’tis three years ago since our own
husbands went on board ship; they
p. 90
must have perished. You are merchants too; we will be your wives." Thus they
lead them astray by their women's wiles, and tricks, and dalliance, until they
get them into the goblin city; then, if they have any others already caught,
they bind these with magic chains, and cast them into the house of torment. And
if they find no shipwrecked men in the place where they dwell, they scour the
coast as far as the river Kalyāṇi 1 on one side and the island of Nāgadīpa on
the other. This is their way.
Now it happened once that five hundred shipwrecked traders were cast ashore near
the city of these she-goblins. The goblins came up to them and enticed them,
till they brought them to their city; those whom they had caught before, they
bound with magic chains and cast them into the house of torment. Then the chief
goblin took the chief man, and the others took the rest, till five hundred had
the five hundred traders; and they made the men their husbands. Then in the
night time, when her man was asleep, the chief she-goblin rose up, and made her
way to the house of death, slew some of the men and ate them. The others did the
same. When the eldest goblin returned from eating men's flesh, her body was
cold. The eldest merchant embraced her, and perceived that she was a goblin.
[129] "All the five hundred of them must be goblins!" he thought to himself: "we
must make our escape!"
So in the early morning, when he went to wash his face, he bespake the other
merchants in these words. "These are goblins, and not human beings! As soon as
other shipwrecked men can be found, they will make them their husbands, and will
eat us; come--let us escape!"
Two hundred and fifty of them replied, "We cannot leave them: go ye, if ye will,
but we will not flee away."
Then the chief trader with two hundred and fifty, who were ready to obey him,
fled away in fear of the goblins.
Now at that time, the Bodhisatta had come into the world as a flying horse 2,
white all over, and beaked like a crow, with hair like muñja grass 3, possessed
of supernatural power, able to fly through the air. From Himalaya he flew
through the air until he came to Ceylon. There he passed over the ponds and
tanks of Ceylon, and ate the paddy that grew wild there. As he passed on thus,
he thrice uttered human speech filled with mercy, saying--"Who wants to go home?
who wants to go home? "The traders heard his saying, and cried--"We are going
home, master!" joining their hands, and raising them respectfully to their
foreheads. "Then climb up on my back," said the Bodhisatta. Thereat some of
p. 91
them climbed up, some laid hold of his tail, and some remained standing, with a
respectful salute. Then the Bodhisatta took up even those who stood still
saluting him, and conveyed all of them, even two hundred and fifty, to their own
country, and set down each in his own place; then he went back to his place of
dwelling.
And the she-goblins, when other men came to that place, slew those two hundred
and fifty who were left, and devoured them.
_____________________________
The Master now said, addressing the Brethren: "Brethren, even as these traders
perished by falling into the hands of she-goblins, but the others by obeying the
behest of the wonderful horse each returned safe home again; so, even so, they
who neglect the advice of the Buddhas, both Brethren and Sisters, lay Brethren
and lay Sisters, [130] come to great misery in the four hells, places where they
are punished under the five fetters, and so forth. But those who abide by such
advice come to the three kinds of fortunate birth, the six heavens of sense, the
twenty worlds of Brahma, and reaching the state of imperishable Nirvana they
attain great blessedness." Then, becoming perfectly enlightened, he recited the
following verses:
"They who will neglect the Buddha when he tells them what to do, As the goblins
ate the merchants, likewise they shall perish too.
"They who hearken to the Buddha when he tells them what to do, As the bird-horse
saved the merchants, they shall win salvation too."
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the backsliding Brother entered on
the Fruit of the First Path, and many others entered on the Fruit of the First,
Second, Third or Fourth:--"The Buddha's followers were the two hundred and fifty
who followed the advice of the horse, and I was the horse myself."
Footnotes
90:1 The modern Kaelani-gaṅgā (Journ. of the Pāli Text Soc., 1888, p. 20).
90:2 On one side of a pillar in a Buddhist railing at Mathura, is a flying horse
with people clinging to it, perhaps intended for this scene (Anderson, Catalogue
of the Indian Museum, i. p. 189).
90:3 Saccharum Muñja.
Next: No. 197. Mittāmitta-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Pabbatupatthara Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 195. Pabbatūpatthara-Jātaka
p. 88
No. 195.
PABBATŪPATTHARA-JĀTAKA.
"A happy lake," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana,
about the king of Kosala.
We are told that a certain courtier intrigued in the royal harem. The king
inquired into the matter, and when he found it all out exactly he determined to
tell the Master. So he came to Jetavana, and saluted the Master; told him how a
courtier had intrigued, and asked what he was to do. The Master asked him
whether he found the courtier useful to him, and whether he loved his wife.
"Yes," was the reply, "the man is very useful; he is the mainstay of my court;
and I do love the woman." "Sire," replied the Master, "when servants are useful,
and women are dear, there is no harming them. In olden days too kings listened
to the words of the wise, and were indifferent to such things." And he told an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a courtier's family. When he came of age, he became the king's counsellor
in things temporal and spiritual.
Now one of the king's court intrigued m the harem, and the king learnt all about
it. "He is a most useful servant," thought he, "and the woman is dear to me. I
cannot destroy these two. [126] I will put a question to some wise man of my
court; and if I must put up with it, put up with it I will; if not, then I will
not."
He sent for the Bodhisatta, and bade him be seated. "Wise sir," said he, "I have
a question to ask you."
"Ask it, O king! I will make answer," replied the other. Then the king asked his
question in the words of the first couplet:--
"A happy lake lay sheltered at the foot of a lovely hill,
But a jackal used it, knowing that a lion watched it still."
"Surely," thought the Bodhisatta, "one of his courtiers must have intrigued in
the harem "; and he recited the second couplet:--
"Out of the mighty river all creatures drink at will:
If she is dear, have patience--the river's a river still."
[127] Thus did the Great Being advise the king.
And the king abode by this advice, and he forgave them both, bidding them go and
sin no more. And from that time they ceased. And the king gave alms, and did
good, till at his life's end he went to fill the hosts of heaven.
p. 89
And the king of Kosala also, after hearing this discourse, forgave both these
people and remained indifferent.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"At that
time Ānanda was the king, and I myself was the wise councillor."
Next: No. 196. Valāhassa-Jātaka
p. 88
No. 195.
PABBATŪPATTHARA-JĀTAKA.
"A happy lake," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana,
about the king of Kosala.
We are told that a certain courtier intrigued in the royal harem. The king
inquired into the matter, and when he found it all out exactly he determined to
tell the Master. So he came to Jetavana, and saluted the Master; told him how a
courtier had intrigued, and asked what he was to do. The Master asked him
whether he found the courtier useful to him, and whether he loved his wife.
"Yes," was the reply, "the man is very useful; he is the mainstay of my court;
and I do love the woman." "Sire," replied the Master, "when servants are useful,
and women are dear, there is no harming them. In olden days too kings listened
to the words of the wise, and were indifferent to such things." And he told an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a courtier's family. When he came of age, he became the king's counsellor
in things temporal and spiritual.
Now one of the king's court intrigued m the harem, and the king learnt all about
it. "He is a most useful servant," thought he, "and the woman is dear to me. I
cannot destroy these two. [126] I will put a question to some wise man of my
court; and if I must put up with it, put up with it I will; if not, then I will
not."
He sent for the Bodhisatta, and bade him be seated. "Wise sir," said he, "I have
a question to ask you."
"Ask it, O king! I will make answer," replied the other. Then the king asked his
question in the words of the first couplet:--
"A happy lake lay sheltered at the foot of a lovely hill,
But a jackal used it, knowing that a lion watched it still."
"Surely," thought the Bodhisatta, "one of his courtiers must have intrigued in
the harem "; and he recited the second couplet:--
"Out of the mighty river all creatures drink at will:
If she is dear, have patience--the river's a river still."
[127] Thus did the Great Being advise the king.
And the king abode by this advice, and he forgave them both, bidding them go and
sin no more. And from that time they ceased. And the king gave alms, and did
good, till at his life's end he went to fill the hosts of heaven.
p. 89
And the king of Kosala also, after hearing this discourse, forgave both these
people and remained indifferent.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he identified the Birth:--"At that
time Ānanda was the king, and I myself was the wise councillor."
Next: No. 196. Valāhassa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Manicora Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 194. Maṇicora-Jātaka
No. 194.
MAṆICORA-JĀTAKA.
"Ye gods are here," etc.--This story the Master told during a stay in Veḷuvana,
how Devadatta tried to kill hips. Hearing that Devadatta went about to kill him,
he said, "Brethren, this is not the only time that Devadatta has been trying to
kill me; he tried to do so before, and failed." Then he told them this story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, when the Bodhisatta came
to life as the son of a householder who lived in a village not far from the
city.
When he came to years, they fetched a young lady of family from Benares to marry
him. She was a fair and lovely maiden, beautiful as a nymph divine, graceful
like a twining creeper, ravishing as a sylph. Her name was Sujātā; she was
faithful, virtuous, and dutiful. She always did duly her devoir to her lord and
his parents. This girl was very dear and precious to the Bodhisatta. [122] So
they two dwelt together in joy, and unity, and oneness of mind.
On a day Sujātā said to her husband, "I have a wish to see my mother and
father."
"Very good, my wife," replied he; "make ready food sufficient for the journey."
He caused food of all sorts to be cooked, and placed the provisions in a waggon;
since he drove the vehicle, he sat in front, and his wife behind. To Benares
they went; and there they unyoked the waggon, and washed, and ate. Then the
Bodhisatta yoked the oxen
p. 86
again, and sat in front; and Sujātā, who had changed her dress and adorned
herself, sat behind.
As the waggon entered the city, the king of Benares happened to he making a
solemn circuit round the place mounted upon the back of a splendid elephant; and
he passed by that place. Sujātā had come down out of the cart, and was walking
behind on foot. The king saw her: her beauty so attracted his eye, that he
became enamoured of her. He called one of his suite. "Go," said he, "and find
out whether yon woman has a husband or no." The man did as he was bid, and came
back to tell the king. "She has a husband, I am told," said he; "do you see that
man sitting in the cart yonder? He is her husband."
The king could not smother his passion, and sin entered into his mind. "I will
find some way of getting rid of this fellow," thought he, "and then I will take
the wife myself." Calling to a man, he said, "Here, my good fellow, take this
jewelled crest, and make as though you were passing down the street. As you go,
drop it in the waggon of yonder man." So saying, he gave him a jewelled crest,
and dismissed him. The man took it, and went; as he passed the waggon, he
dropped it in; then he returned, and reported to the king that it was done.
"I have lost a jewelled crest!" cried the king: the whole place was in an
uproar.
"Shut all the gates!" the king gave order: "cut off the outlets! hunt the
thief!" The king's followers obeyed. The city was all confusion! The other man,
taking some others with him, went up to the Bodhisatta, crying--"Hullo! stop
your cart! [123] the king has lost a jewelled crest; we must search your cart!
"And search it he did, till he found the jewel which he had put there himself.
"Thief!" cried he, seizing the Bodhisatta; they beat him and kicked him; then
binding his arms behind him they dragged him before the king, crying out--"See
the thief who stole your jewel!" "Off with his head!" was the king's command.
They scourged him with whips, and tormented him at every street corner, and cast
him out of the city by the south gates.
Now Sujātā left the waggon, and stretching out her arms she ran after him,
wailing as she went--"O my husband, it is I who brought you into this woful
plight!" The king's servants threw the Bodhisatta upon his back, with the intent
to cut off his head. When she saw this, Sujātā thought upon her own goodness and
virtue, reflecting thus within herself; "I suppose there can be no spirit here
strong enough to stay the hand of cruel and wicked men, who work mischief to the
virtuous"; and weeping and wailing she repeated the first stanza:--
"No gods are here: they must be far away;--
No gods, who over all the world hold sway:
Now wild and violent men may work their will,
For here is no one who could say them nay."
p. 87
As this virtuous woman thus lamented, the throne of Sakka 1, king of the Gods,
grew hot as he sat upon it. [124] "Who is it that would make me fall from my
godhead?" thought Sakka. Then he was ware of what was befalling. "The king of
Benares," he thought, "is doing a very cruel deed. He is making the virtuous
Sujātā miserable; now I must go thither!" So descending from the godworld, by
his own power he dismounted the wicked king from the elephant on whose back he
was riding, and laid him upon his back in the place of execution, but the
Bodhisatta he caught up, and decked him with all kinds of ornaments, and made
the king's dress come upon him, and set him on the back of the king's elephant.
The servants lifted the axe and smote off a head--but it was the king's head;
and when it was off, they knew that it was the head of the king.
Sakka took upon him a visible body, and came before the Bodhisatta, and
consecrated him to be king; and caused the place of chief queen to be given to
Sujātā. And as the courtiers, the brahmins and householders, and the rest, saw
Sakka, king of the gods, they rejoiced, saying, "The unrighteous king is slain!
now have we received from the hands of Sakka a king who is righteous!" And Sakka
stood poised in the air, and declared, "This your righteous king from this time
forth shall rule in righteousness. If a king be unrighteous, God sends rain out
of season, and in season he sends no rain: and fear of famine, fear of
pestilence, fear of the sword--these three fears come upon men for him." Thus
did he instruct them, and spake this second verse:--
"For him no rain falls in the time of rain,
But out of season pours and pours amain.
A king comes down from heaven upon the earth.
Behold the reason why this man is slain."
[125] Thus did Sakka admonish a great concourse of folk, and then he went
straight to his divine abode. And the Bodhisatta reigned in righteousness, and
then went to swell the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
The Master, having ended this discourse, thus identified the Birth:--"At that
time Devadatta was the wicked king; Anuruddha was Sakka; Sujātā was Rāhula's
mother; but the king by Sakka's gift was I myself."
Footnotes
87:1 India.
Next: No. 195. Pabbatūpatthara-Jātaka
No. 194.
MAṆICORA-JĀTAKA.
"Ye gods are here," etc.--This story the Master told during a stay in Veḷuvana,
how Devadatta tried to kill hips. Hearing that Devadatta went about to kill him,
he said, "Brethren, this is not the only time that Devadatta has been trying to
kill me; he tried to do so before, and failed." Then he told them this story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, when the Bodhisatta came
to life as the son of a householder who lived in a village not far from the
city.
When he came to years, they fetched a young lady of family from Benares to marry
him. She was a fair and lovely maiden, beautiful as a nymph divine, graceful
like a twining creeper, ravishing as a sylph. Her name was Sujātā; she was
faithful, virtuous, and dutiful. She always did duly her devoir to her lord and
his parents. This girl was very dear and precious to the Bodhisatta. [122] So
they two dwelt together in joy, and unity, and oneness of mind.
On a day Sujātā said to her husband, "I have a wish to see my mother and
father."
"Very good, my wife," replied he; "make ready food sufficient for the journey."
He caused food of all sorts to be cooked, and placed the provisions in a waggon;
since he drove the vehicle, he sat in front, and his wife behind. To Benares
they went; and there they unyoked the waggon, and washed, and ate. Then the
Bodhisatta yoked the oxen
p. 86
again, and sat in front; and Sujātā, who had changed her dress and adorned
herself, sat behind.
As the waggon entered the city, the king of Benares happened to he making a
solemn circuit round the place mounted upon the back of a splendid elephant; and
he passed by that place. Sujātā had come down out of the cart, and was walking
behind on foot. The king saw her: her beauty so attracted his eye, that he
became enamoured of her. He called one of his suite. "Go," said he, "and find
out whether yon woman has a husband or no." The man did as he was bid, and came
back to tell the king. "She has a husband, I am told," said he; "do you see that
man sitting in the cart yonder? He is her husband."
The king could not smother his passion, and sin entered into his mind. "I will
find some way of getting rid of this fellow," thought he, "and then I will take
the wife myself." Calling to a man, he said, "Here, my good fellow, take this
jewelled crest, and make as though you were passing down the street. As you go,
drop it in the waggon of yonder man." So saying, he gave him a jewelled crest,
and dismissed him. The man took it, and went; as he passed the waggon, he
dropped it in; then he returned, and reported to the king that it was done.
"I have lost a jewelled crest!" cried the king: the whole place was in an
uproar.
"Shut all the gates!" the king gave order: "cut off the outlets! hunt the
thief!" The king's followers obeyed. The city was all confusion! The other man,
taking some others with him, went up to the Bodhisatta, crying--"Hullo! stop
your cart! [123] the king has lost a jewelled crest; we must search your cart!
"And search it he did, till he found the jewel which he had put there himself.
"Thief!" cried he, seizing the Bodhisatta; they beat him and kicked him; then
binding his arms behind him they dragged him before the king, crying out--"See
the thief who stole your jewel!" "Off with his head!" was the king's command.
They scourged him with whips, and tormented him at every street corner, and cast
him out of the city by the south gates.
Now Sujātā left the waggon, and stretching out her arms she ran after him,
wailing as she went--"O my husband, it is I who brought you into this woful
plight!" The king's servants threw the Bodhisatta upon his back, with the intent
to cut off his head. When she saw this, Sujātā thought upon her own goodness and
virtue, reflecting thus within herself; "I suppose there can be no spirit here
strong enough to stay the hand of cruel and wicked men, who work mischief to the
virtuous"; and weeping and wailing she repeated the first stanza:--
"No gods are here: they must be far away;--
No gods, who over all the world hold sway:
Now wild and violent men may work their will,
For here is no one who could say them nay."
p. 87
As this virtuous woman thus lamented, the throne of Sakka 1, king of the Gods,
grew hot as he sat upon it. [124] "Who is it that would make me fall from my
godhead?" thought Sakka. Then he was ware of what was befalling. "The king of
Benares," he thought, "is doing a very cruel deed. He is making the virtuous
Sujātā miserable; now I must go thither!" So descending from the godworld, by
his own power he dismounted the wicked king from the elephant on whose back he
was riding, and laid him upon his back in the place of execution, but the
Bodhisatta he caught up, and decked him with all kinds of ornaments, and made
the king's dress come upon him, and set him on the back of the king's elephant.
The servants lifted the axe and smote off a head--but it was the king's head;
and when it was off, they knew that it was the head of the king.
Sakka took upon him a visible body, and came before the Bodhisatta, and
consecrated him to be king; and caused the place of chief queen to be given to
Sujātā. And as the courtiers, the brahmins and householders, and the rest, saw
Sakka, king of the gods, they rejoiced, saying, "The unrighteous king is slain!
now have we received from the hands of Sakka a king who is righteous!" And Sakka
stood poised in the air, and declared, "This your righteous king from this time
forth shall rule in righteousness. If a king be unrighteous, God sends rain out
of season, and in season he sends no rain: and fear of famine, fear of
pestilence, fear of the sword--these three fears come upon men for him." Thus
did he instruct them, and spake this second verse:--
"For him no rain falls in the time of rain,
But out of season pours and pours amain.
A king comes down from heaven upon the earth.
Behold the reason why this man is slain."
[125] Thus did Sakka admonish a great concourse of folk, and then he went
straight to his divine abode. And the Bodhisatta reigned in righteousness, and
then went to swell the hosts of heaven.
_____________________________
The Master, having ended this discourse, thus identified the Birth:--"At that
time Devadatta was the wicked king; Anuruddha was Sakka; Sujātā was Rāhula's
mother; but the king by Sakka's gift was I myself."
Footnotes
87:1 India.
Next: No. 195. Pabbatūpatthara-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Culla-Paduma Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 193. Culla-Paduma-Jātaka
p. 81
No. 193 1.
CULLA-PADUMA-JĀTAKA.
"’Tis I--no other," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana
about a backsliding brother. The circumstances will be explained in the
Ummadantī Birth 2. When this brother was asked by the Master whether he were
really a backslider, he replied that he was. "Who," said the Master, "has caused
you to backslide?" He replied that he had seen a woman dressed up in finery, and
overcome by passion he had backslidden. Then the Master said, "Brother,
womankind are all ungrateful and treacherous; wise men of old were even so
stupid as to give the blood from their own right knee for them to drink, and
made them presents all their life long, and yet did not win their hearts." And
he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[116] Once upon a time, when king Brahmadatta reigned over, Benares, the
Bodhisatta was born as his chief queen's son. On his name-day, they called him
Prince Paduma, the Lotus Prince. After him came six younger brothers. One after
another these seven came of age and married and settled down, living as the
king's companions.
One day the king looked out into the palace courts, and as he looked he saw
these men with a great following on their way to wait upon himself. He conceived
the suspicion that they meant to slay him, and seize his kingdom. So he sent for
then, and after this fashion bespake them.
"My sons, you may not dwell in this town. So go elsewhere, and when I die you
shall return and take the kingdom which belongs to our family."
They agreed to their father's words; and went home weeping and wailing. "It
matters not where we go!" they cried; and taking their wives with them, they
left the city, and journeyed along the road. By and bye they came to a wood,
where they could get no food or drink. And being unable to bear the pangs of
hunger, they determined to save their lives at the women's cost. They seized the
youngest brother's wife, and slew her; they cut up her body into thirteen parts,
and ate it. But the Bodhisatta and his wife set aside one portion, and ate the
other between them.
Thus they did six days, and slew and ate six of the women; and each day the
Bodhisatta set one portion aside, so that he had six portions saved.
p. 82
[paragraph continues] On the seventh day the others would have taken the
Bodhisatta's wife to kill her; but instead he gave them the six portions which
he had kept. "Eat these," said he; "to-morrow I will manage." They all did eat
the flesh; and when the time came that they fell asleep, the Bodhisatta and his
wife made off together.
When they had gone a little space, the woman said, "Husband, I can go no
further." So the Bodhisatta took her upon his shoulders, and at sunrise he came
out of the wood. When the sun was risen, said she--"Husband, I am thirsty!"
"There is no water, dear wife!" said he.
But she begged him again and again, until he struck his right knee with his
sword, [117] and said,
"Water there is none; but sit you down and drink the blood here from my knee."
And so she did.
By and bye they came to the mighty Ganges. They drank, they bathed, they ate all
manner of fruits, and rested in a pleasant spot. And there by a bend of the
river they made a hermit's hut and took up their abode in it.
Now it happened that a robber in the regions of Upper Ganges had been guilty of
high treason. His hands and feet, and his nose and ears had been cut off, and he
was laid in a canoe, and left to drift down the great river. To this place he
floated, groaning aloud with pain. The Bodhisatta heard his piteous wailing.
"While I live," said he, "no poor creature shall perish for me!" and to the
river bank he went, and saved the man. He brought him to the hut, and with
astringent lotions and ointments he tended his wounds.
But his wife said to herself, "Here is a nice lazy fellow he has fetched out of
the Ganges, to look after!" and she went about spitting for disgust at the
fellow.
Now when the man's wounds were growing together, the Bodhisatta had him to dwell
there in the hut along with his wife, and he brought fruits of all kinds from
the forest to feed both him and the woman. And as they thus dwelt together, the
woman fell in love with the fellow, and committed sin. Then she desired to kill
the Bodhisatta, and said to him, "Husband, as I sat on your shoulder when I came
out from the forest, I saw yon hill, and I vowed that if ever you and I should
be saved, and come to no harm, I would make offering to the holy spirit of the
hill. Now this spirit haunts me: and I desire to pay my offering!"
"Very good," said the Bodhisatta, not knowing her guile. He prepared an
offering, and delivering to her the vessel of offering, he climbed the hill-top.
[118] Then his wife said to him,
"Husband, not the hill-spirit, but you are my chief of gods! Then in your honour
first of all I will offer wild flowers, and walk reverently
p. 83
round you, keeping you on the right, and salute you: and after that I will make
my offering to the mountain spirit." So saying, she placed him facing a
precipice, and pretended that she was fain to salute him in reverent fashion.
Thus getting behind him, she smote him on the hack, and hurled him down the
precipice. Then she cried in her joy, "I have seen the back of my enemy!" and
she came down from the mountain, and went into the presence of her paramour.
Now the Bodhisatta tumbled down the cliff; but he stuck fast in a clump of
leaves on the top of a fig tree where there were no thorns. Yet he could not get
down the hill, so there he sat among the branches, eating the figs. It happened
that a huge Iguana used to climb the hill from the foot of it, and would eat the
fruit of this fig tree. That day he saw the Bodhisatta and took to flight. On
the next day, he came and ate some fruit on one side of it. Again and again he
came, till at last he struck up a friendship with the Bodhisatta.
"How did you get to this place?" he asked; and the Bodhisatta told him how.
"Well, don't be afraid," said the Iguana; and taking him on his own back, he
descended the hill and brought him out of the forest. There he set him upon the
high road, and showed him what way he should go, and himself returned to the
forest.
The other proceeded to a certain village, and dwelt there till he heard of his
father's death. Upon this he made his way to Benares. There he inherited the
kingdom which belonged to his family, and took the name of King Lotus; the ten
rules of righteousness for kings he did not transgress, and he ruled uprightly.
He built six Halls of Bounty, one at each of the four gates, one in the midst of
the city, and one before the palace; and every day he distributed in gifts six
hundred thousand pieces of money.
Now the wicked wife took her paramour upon her shoulders, and came forth out of
the forest; and she went a-begging among the people, and collected rice and
gruel to support him withal. [119] If she was asked what the man was to her, she
would reply, "His mother was sister to my father, he is my cousin 1; to him they
gave me. Even if he were doomed to death I would take my own husband upon my
shoulders, and care for him, and beg food for his living!"
"What a devoted wife!" said all the people. And thenceforward they gave her more
food than ever. Some of them also offered advice, saying, "Do not live in this
way. King Lotus is lord of Benares; he has set all India in a stir by his
bounty. It will delight him to see you; so delighted will he be, that he will
give you rich gifts. Put your husband
p. 84
in this basket, and make your way to him." So saying, they persuaded her, and
gave her a basket of osiers.
The wicked woman placed her paramour in the basket, and taking it up she
repaired to Benares, and lived on what she got at the Halls of Bounty. Now the
Bodhisatta used to ride to an alms-hall upon the back of a splendid elephant
richly dight; and after giving alms to eight or ten people, he would set out
again for home. Then the wicked woman placed her paramour in the basket, and
taking it up, she stood where the king was used to pass. The king saw her. "Who
is this?" he asked. "A devoted wife," was the answer. He sent for her, and
recognised who she was. He caused the man to be put down from the basket, and
asked her, "What is this man to you?"--"He is the son of my father's sister,
given me by my family, my own husband," she answered.
"Ah, what a devoted wife!" cried they all: for they knew not the ins and outs of
it; and they praised the wicked woman.
"What--is the scoundrel your cousin? did your family give him to you?" asked the
king; "your husband, is he?"
She did not recognise the king; and "Yes, my lord!" said she, as bole as you
like.
"And is this the king of Benares' son? Are you not the wife of prince Lotus, the
daughter of such and such a king, your name so and so? Did not you drink the
blood from my knee? Did you not fall in love with this rascal, and throw me down
a precipice? Ah, you thought that I was dead, and here you are with death
written upon your own forehead--and here am I, alive!" [120] Then he turned to
his courtiers. "Do you remember what I told you, when you questioned me? My six
younger brothers slew their six wives and ate them; but I kept my wife unhurt,
and brought her to Ganges' bank, where I dwelt in a hermit's hut: I hauled a
condemned criminal out of the river, and supported him; this woman fell in love
with him, and threw me down a precipice, but I saved my life by showing
kindness. This is no other than the wicked woman who threw me off the crag:
this, and no other, is the condemned wretch!" And then he uttered the following
verses:
"’Tis I--no other, and this quean is she;
The handless knave, no other, there you see;
Quoth she--'This is the husband of my youth.'
Women deserve to die; they have no truth.
"With a great club beat out the scoundrel's life
Who lies in wait to steal his neighbour's wife.
Then take the faithful harlot by and bye,
And shear off nose and ears before she die."
[121] But although the Bodhisatta could not swallow his anger, and ordained this
punishment for them, he did not do accordingly; but he
p. 85
smothered his wrath, and had the basket fixed upon her head so fast that she
could not take it off; the villain he had placed in the same, and they were
driven out of his kingdom.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the backsliding Brother entered on
the Fruit of the First Path:--"In those days certain elders were the six
brothers, the young lady Ciñcā was the wife, Devadatta was the criminal, Ānanda
was the Iguana, and King Lotus was I myself."
Footnotes
81:1 See Pañcatantra iv. 5 (Benfey, ii. p. 305); Thibetan Tales, no. xxi. "How a
Woman requites Love."
81:2 No. 527.
83:1 The Sanskrit version says "his kinsfolk persecuted him," which gives a
reason for the state he was seen in.
Next: No. 194. Maṇicora-Jātaka
p. 81
No. 193 1.
CULLA-PADUMA-JĀTAKA.
"’Tis I--no other," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana
about a backsliding brother. The circumstances will be explained in the
Ummadantī Birth 2. When this brother was asked by the Master whether he were
really a backslider, he replied that he was. "Who," said the Master, "has caused
you to backslide?" He replied that he had seen a woman dressed up in finery, and
overcome by passion he had backslidden. Then the Master said, "Brother,
womankind are all ungrateful and treacherous; wise men of old were even so
stupid as to give the blood from their own right knee for them to drink, and
made them presents all their life long, and yet did not win their hearts." And
he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[116] Once upon a time, when king Brahmadatta reigned over, Benares, the
Bodhisatta was born as his chief queen's son. On his name-day, they called him
Prince Paduma, the Lotus Prince. After him came six younger brothers. One after
another these seven came of age and married and settled down, living as the
king's companions.
One day the king looked out into the palace courts, and as he looked he saw
these men with a great following on their way to wait upon himself. He conceived
the suspicion that they meant to slay him, and seize his kingdom. So he sent for
then, and after this fashion bespake them.
"My sons, you may not dwell in this town. So go elsewhere, and when I die you
shall return and take the kingdom which belongs to our family."
They agreed to their father's words; and went home weeping and wailing. "It
matters not where we go!" they cried; and taking their wives with them, they
left the city, and journeyed along the road. By and bye they came to a wood,
where they could get no food or drink. And being unable to bear the pangs of
hunger, they determined to save their lives at the women's cost. They seized the
youngest brother's wife, and slew her; they cut up her body into thirteen parts,
and ate it. But the Bodhisatta and his wife set aside one portion, and ate the
other between them.
Thus they did six days, and slew and ate six of the women; and each day the
Bodhisatta set one portion aside, so that he had six portions saved.
p. 82
[paragraph continues] On the seventh day the others would have taken the
Bodhisatta's wife to kill her; but instead he gave them the six portions which
he had kept. "Eat these," said he; "to-morrow I will manage." They all did eat
the flesh; and when the time came that they fell asleep, the Bodhisatta and his
wife made off together.
When they had gone a little space, the woman said, "Husband, I can go no
further." So the Bodhisatta took her upon his shoulders, and at sunrise he came
out of the wood. When the sun was risen, said she--"Husband, I am thirsty!"
"There is no water, dear wife!" said he.
But she begged him again and again, until he struck his right knee with his
sword, [117] and said,
"Water there is none; but sit you down and drink the blood here from my knee."
And so she did.
By and bye they came to the mighty Ganges. They drank, they bathed, they ate all
manner of fruits, and rested in a pleasant spot. And there by a bend of the
river they made a hermit's hut and took up their abode in it.
Now it happened that a robber in the regions of Upper Ganges had been guilty of
high treason. His hands and feet, and his nose and ears had been cut off, and he
was laid in a canoe, and left to drift down the great river. To this place he
floated, groaning aloud with pain. The Bodhisatta heard his piteous wailing.
"While I live," said he, "no poor creature shall perish for me!" and to the
river bank he went, and saved the man. He brought him to the hut, and with
astringent lotions and ointments he tended his wounds.
But his wife said to herself, "Here is a nice lazy fellow he has fetched out of
the Ganges, to look after!" and she went about spitting for disgust at the
fellow.
Now when the man's wounds were growing together, the Bodhisatta had him to dwell
there in the hut along with his wife, and he brought fruits of all kinds from
the forest to feed both him and the woman. And as they thus dwelt together, the
woman fell in love with the fellow, and committed sin. Then she desired to kill
the Bodhisatta, and said to him, "Husband, as I sat on your shoulder when I came
out from the forest, I saw yon hill, and I vowed that if ever you and I should
be saved, and come to no harm, I would make offering to the holy spirit of the
hill. Now this spirit haunts me: and I desire to pay my offering!"
"Very good," said the Bodhisatta, not knowing her guile. He prepared an
offering, and delivering to her the vessel of offering, he climbed the hill-top.
[118] Then his wife said to him,
"Husband, not the hill-spirit, but you are my chief of gods! Then in your honour
first of all I will offer wild flowers, and walk reverently
p. 83
round you, keeping you on the right, and salute you: and after that I will make
my offering to the mountain spirit." So saying, she placed him facing a
precipice, and pretended that she was fain to salute him in reverent fashion.
Thus getting behind him, she smote him on the hack, and hurled him down the
precipice. Then she cried in her joy, "I have seen the back of my enemy!" and
she came down from the mountain, and went into the presence of her paramour.
Now the Bodhisatta tumbled down the cliff; but he stuck fast in a clump of
leaves on the top of a fig tree where there were no thorns. Yet he could not get
down the hill, so there he sat among the branches, eating the figs. It happened
that a huge Iguana used to climb the hill from the foot of it, and would eat the
fruit of this fig tree. That day he saw the Bodhisatta and took to flight. On
the next day, he came and ate some fruit on one side of it. Again and again he
came, till at last he struck up a friendship with the Bodhisatta.
"How did you get to this place?" he asked; and the Bodhisatta told him how.
"Well, don't be afraid," said the Iguana; and taking him on his own back, he
descended the hill and brought him out of the forest. There he set him upon the
high road, and showed him what way he should go, and himself returned to the
forest.
The other proceeded to a certain village, and dwelt there till he heard of his
father's death. Upon this he made his way to Benares. There he inherited the
kingdom which belonged to his family, and took the name of King Lotus; the ten
rules of righteousness for kings he did not transgress, and he ruled uprightly.
He built six Halls of Bounty, one at each of the four gates, one in the midst of
the city, and one before the palace; and every day he distributed in gifts six
hundred thousand pieces of money.
Now the wicked wife took her paramour upon her shoulders, and came forth out of
the forest; and she went a-begging among the people, and collected rice and
gruel to support him withal. [119] If she was asked what the man was to her, she
would reply, "His mother was sister to my father, he is my cousin 1; to him they
gave me. Even if he were doomed to death I would take my own husband upon my
shoulders, and care for him, and beg food for his living!"
"What a devoted wife!" said all the people. And thenceforward they gave her more
food than ever. Some of them also offered advice, saying, "Do not live in this
way. King Lotus is lord of Benares; he has set all India in a stir by his
bounty. It will delight him to see you; so delighted will he be, that he will
give you rich gifts. Put your husband
p. 84
in this basket, and make your way to him." So saying, they persuaded her, and
gave her a basket of osiers.
The wicked woman placed her paramour in the basket, and taking it up she
repaired to Benares, and lived on what she got at the Halls of Bounty. Now the
Bodhisatta used to ride to an alms-hall upon the back of a splendid elephant
richly dight; and after giving alms to eight or ten people, he would set out
again for home. Then the wicked woman placed her paramour in the basket, and
taking it up, she stood where the king was used to pass. The king saw her. "Who
is this?" he asked. "A devoted wife," was the answer. He sent for her, and
recognised who she was. He caused the man to be put down from the basket, and
asked her, "What is this man to you?"--"He is the son of my father's sister,
given me by my family, my own husband," she answered.
"Ah, what a devoted wife!" cried they all: for they knew not the ins and outs of
it; and they praised the wicked woman.
"What--is the scoundrel your cousin? did your family give him to you?" asked the
king; "your husband, is he?"
She did not recognise the king; and "Yes, my lord!" said she, as bole as you
like.
"And is this the king of Benares' son? Are you not the wife of prince Lotus, the
daughter of such and such a king, your name so and so? Did not you drink the
blood from my knee? Did you not fall in love with this rascal, and throw me down
a precipice? Ah, you thought that I was dead, and here you are with death
written upon your own forehead--and here am I, alive!" [120] Then he turned to
his courtiers. "Do you remember what I told you, when you questioned me? My six
younger brothers slew their six wives and ate them; but I kept my wife unhurt,
and brought her to Ganges' bank, where I dwelt in a hermit's hut: I hauled a
condemned criminal out of the river, and supported him; this woman fell in love
with him, and threw me down a precipice, but I saved my life by showing
kindness. This is no other than the wicked woman who threw me off the crag:
this, and no other, is the condemned wretch!" And then he uttered the following
verses:
"’Tis I--no other, and this quean is she;
The handless knave, no other, there you see;
Quoth she--'This is the husband of my youth.'
Women deserve to die; they have no truth.
"With a great club beat out the scoundrel's life
Who lies in wait to steal his neighbour's wife.
Then take the faithful harlot by and bye,
And shear off nose and ears before she die."
[121] But although the Bodhisatta could not swallow his anger, and ordained this
punishment for them, he did not do accordingly; but he
p. 85
smothered his wrath, and had the basket fixed upon her head so fast that she
could not take it off; the villain he had placed in the same, and they were
driven out of his kingdom.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the backsliding Brother entered on
the Fruit of the First Path:--"In those days certain elders were the six
brothers, the young lady Ciñcā was the wife, Devadatta was the criminal, Ānanda
was the Iguana, and King Lotus was I myself."
Footnotes
81:1 See Pañcatantra iv. 5 (Benfey, ii. p. 305); Thibetan Tales, no. xxi. "How a
Woman requites Love."
81:2 No. 527.
83:1 The Sanskrit version says "his kinsfolk persecuted him," which gives a
reason for the state he was seen in.
Next: No. 194. Maṇicora-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Siri-Kalakanni Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 192. Siri-Kāḷakaṇṇi-Jātaka
No. 192. SIRI-KĀḶAKAṆṆI-JĀTAKA 2.
"Even though women may be fair," etc.--This story will be given in the
Mahā-ummagga-Jātaka 3.
Footnotes
80:2 Cf. Thibetan Tales, xxi. pp. 291-5, "How a Woman Requites Love."
80:3 No. 538 in Westergaard.
Next: No. 193. Culla-Paduma-Jātaka
No. 192. SIRI-KĀḶAKAṆṆI-JĀTAKA 2.
"Even though women may be fair," etc.--This story will be given in the
Mahā-ummagga-Jātaka 3.
Footnotes
80:2 Cf. Thibetan Tales, xxi. pp. 291-5, "How a Woman Requites Love."
80:3 No. 538 in Westergaard.
Next: No. 193. Culla-Paduma-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Ruhaka Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 191. Ruhaka-Jātaka
p. 79
No. 191.
RUHAKA-JĀTAKA.
"Even a broken bowstring," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling in
Jetavana, about temptation arising from a former wife. The circumstances will be
explained in the Eighth Book, in the Indriya-Jātaka 1. Then the Master said to
this brother, "That is a woman who does you harm. In former times, too, she put
you to the blush before the king and his whole court, and gave you good reason
to leave your home." And he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when king Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born of his chief queen. He came of age, and his father passed away; and
then he became king and ruled in righteousness.
The Bodhisatta had a chaplain named Ruhaka, and this Ruhaka had an old brahmin
woman to wife.
The king gave the brahmin a horse accoutred with all its trappings, and he
mounted the horse and went to wait upon the king. As he rode along on the back
of his richly caparisoned steed, the people on this side and that were loud in
its praise: "See that fine horse!" they cried; "what a beauty!"
When he came home again, he went into his mansion and told his wife.
[114] "Goodwife," said he, "our horse is passing fine! Right and left the people
are all speaking in praise of it."
Now his wife was no better than she should be, and full of deceit; so she made
reply to him thus.
"Ah, husband, you do not know wherein lies the beauty of this horse. It is all
in his fine trappings. Now if you would make yourself fine like the horse, put
his trappings on yourself and go down into the street, prancing along
horse-fashion 2. You will see the king, and he will praise you, and all the
people will praise you."
This fool of a brahmin listened to it all, but did not know what she purposed.
So he believed her, and did as she had said. All that saw him laughed aloud:
"There goes a fine professor!" said they all. And the king cried shame on him.
"Why, my Teacher," said he, "has your bile gone wrong? Are you crazy?" At this
the brahmin thought that he must have behaved amiss, and he was ashamed. So he
was wroth with his wife, and made haste home, saying to himself, "The woman has
shamed me
p. 80
before the king and all his army: I will chastise her and turn her out of
doors!"
But the crafty woman found out that he had come home in anger; she stole a march
on him, and departed by a side door, and made her way to the palace, where she
stayed four or five days. When the king heard of it, he sent for his chaplain,
and said to him,
"My Teacher, all womankind are full of faults; you ought to forgive this lady;"
and with intent to make him forgive he uttered the first stanza:--
"Even a broken bowstring can be mended and made whole:
Forgive your wife, and cherish not this anger in your soul."
[115] Hearing this, Ruhaka uttered the second:--
"While there is bark 1 and workmen too
’Tis easy to buy bowstrings new.
Another wife I will procure;
I've had enough of this one, sure."
So saying, he sent her away, and took him another brahmin woman to wife.
_____________________________
The Master, after finishing this discourse, declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the tempted Brother was established
in the fruit of the First Path:--"On that occasion the former wife was the same,
Ruhaka was the tempted brother, and I was the king of Benares."
Footnotes
79:1 No. 423.
79:2 Compare Pañcatantra iv. 6 (Benfey, ii. p. 307).
80:1 Reading mudūsu, 'fresh (bark),' from the fibre of which bowstrings were
sometimes made.
Next: No. 192. Siri-Kāḷakaṇṇi-Jātaka
p. 79
No. 191.
RUHAKA-JĀTAKA.
"Even a broken bowstring," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling in
Jetavana, about temptation arising from a former wife. The circumstances will be
explained in the Eighth Book, in the Indriya-Jātaka 1. Then the Master said to
this brother, "That is a woman who does you harm. In former times, too, she put
you to the blush before the king and his whole court, and gave you good reason
to leave your home." And he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when king Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born of his chief queen. He came of age, and his father passed away; and
then he became king and ruled in righteousness.
The Bodhisatta had a chaplain named Ruhaka, and this Ruhaka had an old brahmin
woman to wife.
The king gave the brahmin a horse accoutred with all its trappings, and he
mounted the horse and went to wait upon the king. As he rode along on the back
of his richly caparisoned steed, the people on this side and that were loud in
its praise: "See that fine horse!" they cried; "what a beauty!"
When he came home again, he went into his mansion and told his wife.
[114] "Goodwife," said he, "our horse is passing fine! Right and left the people
are all speaking in praise of it."
Now his wife was no better than she should be, and full of deceit; so she made
reply to him thus.
"Ah, husband, you do not know wherein lies the beauty of this horse. It is all
in his fine trappings. Now if you would make yourself fine like the horse, put
his trappings on yourself and go down into the street, prancing along
horse-fashion 2. You will see the king, and he will praise you, and all the
people will praise you."
This fool of a brahmin listened to it all, but did not know what she purposed.
So he believed her, and did as she had said. All that saw him laughed aloud:
"There goes a fine professor!" said they all. And the king cried shame on him.
"Why, my Teacher," said he, "has your bile gone wrong? Are you crazy?" At this
the brahmin thought that he must have behaved amiss, and he was ashamed. So he
was wroth with his wife, and made haste home, saying to himself, "The woman has
shamed me
p. 80
before the king and all his army: I will chastise her and turn her out of
doors!"
But the crafty woman found out that he had come home in anger; she stole a march
on him, and departed by a side door, and made her way to the palace, where she
stayed four or five days. When the king heard of it, he sent for his chaplain,
and said to him,
"My Teacher, all womankind are full of faults; you ought to forgive this lady;"
and with intent to make him forgive he uttered the first stanza:--
"Even a broken bowstring can be mended and made whole:
Forgive your wife, and cherish not this anger in your soul."
[115] Hearing this, Ruhaka uttered the second:--
"While there is bark 1 and workmen too
’Tis easy to buy bowstrings new.
Another wife I will procure;
I've had enough of this one, sure."
So saying, he sent her away, and took him another brahmin woman to wife.
_____________________________
The Master, after finishing this discourse, declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the tempted Brother was established
in the fruit of the First Path:--"On that occasion the former wife was the same,
Ruhaka was the tempted brother, and I was the king of Benares."
Footnotes
79:1 No. 423.
79:2 Compare Pañcatantra iv. 6 (Benfey, ii. p. 307).
80:1 Reading mudūsu, 'fresh (bark),' from the fibre of which bowstrings were
sometimes made.
Next: No. 192. Siri-Kāḷakaṇṇi-Jātaka
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