Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 229. Palāyi-Jātaka
No. 229.
PALĀYI-JĀTAKA.
"Lo, my elephants," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a
mendicant, with vagrant tastes.
He traversed the whole of India for the purpose of arguing, and found no one to
contradict him. At last he got as far as Sāvatthi, and asked was there any one
there who could argue with him. The people said, "There is One who could argue
with a thousand such--all-wise, chief of men, the mighty Gotama, lord of the
faith, who bears down all opposition, there is no adversary in all India who can
dispute with Him. As the billows break upon the shore, so all arguments break
against his feet, and are dashed to spray." Thus they described the qualities of
the Buddha.
p. 152
"Where is he now?" asked the mendicant. He was at Jetavana, they replied. Now
I'll get up a disputation with him!" said the mendicant. So attended by a large
crowd he made his way to Jetavana. On seeing the gate towers of Jetavana 1,
which Prince Jeta had built at a cost of ninety millions of money, he asked
whether that was the palace where the Priest Gotama lived. The gateway of it,
they said. "If this be the gateway, what will the dwelling be like!" he cried.
"There's no end to the perfumed chambers!" the people said. "Who could argue
with such a priest as this?" he asked; and hurried off at once.
The crowd shouted for joy, and thronged into the park. "What brings you here
before your time?" asked the Master. They told him what had happened. Said he,
"This is not the first time, laymen, that he hurried away at the mere sight of
the gateway of my dwelling. He did the same before." And at their request, he
told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[217] Once upon a time, it befel that the Bodhisatta reigned king in Takkasilā,
of the realm of Gandhāra, and Brahmadatta in Benares. Brahmadatta resolved to
capture Takkasilā; wherefore with a great host he set forth, and took up a
position not far from the city, and set his army in array: "Here be the
elephants, here the horses, the chariots here, and here the footmen: thus do ye
charge and hurl with your weapons; as the clouds pour forth rain, so pour ye
forth a rain of arrows!" and he uttered this pair of stanzas:--
"Lo, my elephants and horses, like the storm-cloud in the sky!
Lo, my surging sea of chariots shooting arrow-spray on high!
Lo, my host of warriors, striking sword in hand, with blow and thrust,
Closing in upon the city, till their foes shall bite the dust!
"Rush against them--fall upon them! shout the war-cry--loudly sing!
While the elephants in concert raise a clamorous trumpeting!
As the thunder and the lightning flash and rumble in the sky,
So be now your voice uplifted in the loud long battle-cry!"
[218] So cried the king. And he made his army march, and came before the gate of
the city; and when he saw the towers on the city gate, he asked whether was that
the king's dwelling. "That," said they, "is the gate tower." "If the gate tower
be such as this, of what sort will the king's palace be?" he asked. And they
replied, "Like to Vejayanta, the palace of Sakka!" On hearing it, the king said,
"With so glorious a king we shall never be able to fight!" And having seen no
more than the tower set upon the city gate, he turned and fled away, and came
again to Benares.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Our mendicant gadabout
was then the king of Benares, and I was the king of Takkasilā myself."
Footnotes
152:1 The Jetavana monastery is represented on the Bhārhut Stupa (Cunningham,
pl. LVII); for the gandhakuṭī, see pl. XXVIII, fig. 3.
Next: No. 230. Dutiya-Palāyi-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 - Kamanita Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 228. Kāmanīta-Jātaka
p. 149
No. 228.
KĀMANĪTA-JĀTAKA.
"Three forts," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana about a brahmin
named Kāmanīta. The circumstances will be explained in the Twelfth Book, and the
Kāma-Jātaka 1.
_____________________________
[The king of Benares had two sons.] And of these two sons the elder went to
Benares, and became king: the youngest was the viceroy. He that was king was
given over to the desire of riches, and the lust of the flesh, and greedy of
gain.
At the time, the Bodhisatta was Sakka, king of the gods. And as he looked out
upon India, and observed that the king of it was given over to these lusts, he
said to himself, "I will chastise that king, and make him ashamed." So taking
the semblance of a young brahmin, he went to the king and looked at him.
"Whit wants this young fellow?" the king asked.
Said he, "Great king, I see three towns, prosperous, fertile, having elephants,
horses, chariots and infantry in plenty, full of ornaments of gold and fine
gold. These may be taken with a very small army. I have come hither to offer to
get them for you!"
"When shall we go, young man?" asked the king.
"To-morrow, Sire."
"Then leave me now; to-morrow early shall you go."
"Good, my king: hasten to prepare the army!" And so saying [213] Sakka went back
again to his own place.
Next day the king caused the drum to beat, and an army to be made ready; and
having summoned his courtiers, he thus bespoke them:--
"Yesterday a young brahmin came and said that he would conquer for me three
cities--Uttarapañcāla, Indapatta, and Kekaka. Wherefore now we will go along
with that man and conquer those cities. Summon him in all haste!"
"What place did you assign him, my lord, to dwell in?"
"I gave him no place to dwell in," said the king.
"But you gave him wherewith to pay for a lodging!"
p. 150
"Nay, not even that."
"Then how shall we find him?"
"Seek him in the streets of the city," said the king.
They sought, but found him not. So they came before the king, and told him, "O
king, we cannot see him."
Great sorrow fell upon the king. "What glory has been snatched from me!" he
groaned; his heart became hot, his blood became disordered, dysentery attacked
him, the physicians could not cure him.
After the space of three or four days, Sakka meditated, and was ware of his
illness. Said he, "I will cure him: "and in the semblance of a brahmin he went
and stood at his door. He caused it to he told the king, "A brahmin physician is
come to cure you."
On hearing it, the king answered, "All the great physicians of the court have
not been able to cure me. Give him a fee, and let him go." Sakka listened, and
made reply: "I want not even money for my lodging, nor will I take fee for my
leechcraft. I will cure him: let the king see me!"
"Then let him come in," said the king, on receiving this message. Then Sakka
went in, and wishing victory to the king, sat on one side. "Are you going to
cure me?" the king asked.
He replied, "Even so, my lord."
"Cure me, then!" said the king.
"Very good, Sire. Tell me the symptoms of your disease, and how it came
about,--what you have eaten or drunken, to bring it on, or what you have heard
or seen."
"Dear friend, my disease was brought upon me by something that I heard."
Then the other asked, "What was it?" [214]
"Dear Sir, there came a young brahmin who offered to win and give me power over
three cities: and I gave him neither lodging, nor wherewithal to pay for one. He
must have grown angry with me, and gone away to some other king. So when I
bethought me how great glory had been snatched away from me, this disease came
upon me; cure, if you can, this which has come upon me foci my covetousness."
And to make the matter clear he uttered the first stanza:--
"Three forts, each builded high upon a mount,
I want to take, whose names I here recount 1:
And there is one thing further that I need--
Cure me, O brahmin, me the slave of greed!"
Then Sakka said, "O king, by simples made with roots you cannot
p. 151
be cured, but you must be cured with the simple of knowledge:" and he uttered
the second verse as follows: [215]
"There are, who cure the bite of a black snake;
The wise can heal the wounds that goblins make.
The slave of greed no doctor can make whole;
What cure is there for the backsliding soul?"
So spake the great Being to explain his meaning, and he added this yet beyond:
"O king, what if you were to get those three cities, then while you reigned over
these four cities, could you wear four pairs of robes at once, eat out of four
golden dishes, lie on four state beds? O king, one ought not to be mastered by
desire. Desire is the root of all evil; when desire is increased, he that
cherishes her is cast into the eight great hells, and the sixteen lowest hells,
and into all kinds and manner of misery." So the great Being terrified the king
with fear of hell and misery, and discoursed to him. And the king, by heating
his discourse, got rid of his heartbreak, and in a moment he became whole of his
disease. [216] And Sakka after giving him instruction, and establishing him in
virtue, went away to the world of gods. And the king thenceforward gave alms and
did good, and he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"The Brother
who is a slave to his desires was at that time the king; and I myself was
Sakka."
Footnotes
149:1 No. 467.
150:1 The names of Pañcāla, Kuru, and Kekaka are given.
Next: No. 229. Palāyi-Jātaka
p. 149
No. 228.
KĀMANĪTA-JĀTAKA.
"Three forts," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana about a brahmin
named Kāmanīta. The circumstances will be explained in the Twelfth Book, and the
Kāma-Jātaka 1.
_____________________________
[The king of Benares had two sons.] And of these two sons the elder went to
Benares, and became king: the youngest was the viceroy. He that was king was
given over to the desire of riches, and the lust of the flesh, and greedy of
gain.
At the time, the Bodhisatta was Sakka, king of the gods. And as he looked out
upon India, and observed that the king of it was given over to these lusts, he
said to himself, "I will chastise that king, and make him ashamed." So taking
the semblance of a young brahmin, he went to the king and looked at him.
"Whit wants this young fellow?" the king asked.
Said he, "Great king, I see three towns, prosperous, fertile, having elephants,
horses, chariots and infantry in plenty, full of ornaments of gold and fine
gold. These may be taken with a very small army. I have come hither to offer to
get them for you!"
"When shall we go, young man?" asked the king.
"To-morrow, Sire."
"Then leave me now; to-morrow early shall you go."
"Good, my king: hasten to prepare the army!" And so saying [213] Sakka went back
again to his own place.
Next day the king caused the drum to beat, and an army to be made ready; and
having summoned his courtiers, he thus bespoke them:--
"Yesterday a young brahmin came and said that he would conquer for me three
cities--Uttarapañcāla, Indapatta, and Kekaka. Wherefore now we will go along
with that man and conquer those cities. Summon him in all haste!"
"What place did you assign him, my lord, to dwell in?"
"I gave him no place to dwell in," said the king.
"But you gave him wherewith to pay for a lodging!"
p. 150
"Nay, not even that."
"Then how shall we find him?"
"Seek him in the streets of the city," said the king.
They sought, but found him not. So they came before the king, and told him, "O
king, we cannot see him."
Great sorrow fell upon the king. "What glory has been snatched from me!" he
groaned; his heart became hot, his blood became disordered, dysentery attacked
him, the physicians could not cure him.
After the space of three or four days, Sakka meditated, and was ware of his
illness. Said he, "I will cure him: "and in the semblance of a brahmin he went
and stood at his door. He caused it to he told the king, "A brahmin physician is
come to cure you."
On hearing it, the king answered, "All the great physicians of the court have
not been able to cure me. Give him a fee, and let him go." Sakka listened, and
made reply: "I want not even money for my lodging, nor will I take fee for my
leechcraft. I will cure him: let the king see me!"
"Then let him come in," said the king, on receiving this message. Then Sakka
went in, and wishing victory to the king, sat on one side. "Are you going to
cure me?" the king asked.
He replied, "Even so, my lord."
"Cure me, then!" said the king.
"Very good, Sire. Tell me the symptoms of your disease, and how it came
about,--what you have eaten or drunken, to bring it on, or what you have heard
or seen."
"Dear friend, my disease was brought upon me by something that I heard."
Then the other asked, "What was it?" [214]
"Dear Sir, there came a young brahmin who offered to win and give me power over
three cities: and I gave him neither lodging, nor wherewithal to pay for one. He
must have grown angry with me, and gone away to some other king. So when I
bethought me how great glory had been snatched away from me, this disease came
upon me; cure, if you can, this which has come upon me foci my covetousness."
And to make the matter clear he uttered the first stanza:--
"Three forts, each builded high upon a mount,
I want to take, whose names I here recount 1:
And there is one thing further that I need--
Cure me, O brahmin, me the slave of greed!"
Then Sakka said, "O king, by simples made with roots you cannot
p. 151
be cured, but you must be cured with the simple of knowledge:" and he uttered
the second verse as follows: [215]
"There are, who cure the bite of a black snake;
The wise can heal the wounds that goblins make.
The slave of greed no doctor can make whole;
What cure is there for the backsliding soul?"
So spake the great Being to explain his meaning, and he added this yet beyond:
"O king, what if you were to get those three cities, then while you reigned over
these four cities, could you wear four pairs of robes at once, eat out of four
golden dishes, lie on four state beds? O king, one ought not to be mastered by
desire. Desire is the root of all evil; when desire is increased, he that
cherishes her is cast into the eight great hells, and the sixteen lowest hells,
and into all kinds and manner of misery." So the great Being terrified the king
with fear of hell and misery, and discoursed to him. And the king, by heating
his discourse, got rid of his heartbreak, and in a moment he became whole of his
disease. [216] And Sakka after giving him instruction, and establishing him in
virtue, went away to the world of gods. And the king thenceforward gave alms and
did good, and he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"The Brother
who is a slave to his desires was at that time the king; and I myself was
Sakka."
Footnotes
149:1 No. 467.
150:1 The names of Pañcāla, Kuru, and Kekaka are given.
Next: No. 229. Palāyi-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Gutha Pana Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 227. Gutha Pana Jataka
No. 227.
GŪTHA-PĀṆA-JĀTAKA.
"Well matched," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana,
about one of the Brethren.
There stood at that time, about three-quarters 1 of a league from Jetavana, a
market town, where a great deal of rice was distributed by ticket, and special
meals were given. Here lived an inquisitive lout, who pestered the young men and
novices who came to share in the distribution--[210] "Who are for solid food?
who for drink? who for moist food?" And he made those who could not answer feel
ashamed, and they dreaded him so much that to that village they would not go.
One day, a brother came to the ticket-hall, with the question, "Any food for
distribution in such-and-such a village, sir?" "Yes, friend," was the answer,
"but there's a lubber here asking questions; if you can't answer them, he abuses
and reviles you. He is such a pest that nobody will go near the place." "Sir,"
said the other, "give me an order on the place, and I'll humble him, and make
him modest, and so influence him that whenever he sees you after this, he'll
feel inclined to run away."
The brothers agreed, and gave the necessary order. The man walked to our
village, and at the gate of it he put on his robe. The loafer spied him--was at
him like a mad ram, with "Answer me a question, priest!" "Layman, let me go
first about the village for my broth, and then come back with it to the waiting
hall."
When he returned with his meal, the man repeated his question. The brother
answered, "Leave me to finish my broth, to sweep the room, and to fetch my
ticket's worth of rice." So he fetched the rice; then placing his bowl in this
very man's hands, he said, "Come, now I'll answer your question."
p. 148
Then he led him outside the village, folded his outer robe, put it on his
shoulder, and taking the bowl from the other, stood waiting for him to begin.
The man said, "Priest, answer me one question." "Very well, so I will," said the
brother; and with one blow he felled him to the ground, bruised his eyes, beat
him, dropped filth in his face, and went off, with these parting words to
frighten him, "If ever again you ask a question of any Brother who comes to this
village, I'll see about it!"
After this, he took to his heels at the mere sight of a Brother.
By and bye all this became known among the Brotherhood. One day they were
talking about it in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, I hear that Brother So-and-so
dropped filth in the face of that loafer, and left him!" The Master came in, and
wanted to know what they were all talking about as they sat there. They told
him. Said he, "Brethren, this is not the first time this brother attacked the
man with dirt, but he did just the same before." Then he told them an old-world
tale.
[211] Once on a time, those citizens of the kingdoms of Aṅga and Magadha who
were travelling from one land to the other, used to stay in a house on the
marches of the two kingdoms, and there they drank liquor and ate the flesh of
fishes, and early in the morning they yoked their carts and went away. At the
time when they came, a certain dung-beetle, led by the odour of dung, came to
the place where they had drunken, and saw some liquor shed upon the ground, and
for thirst he drank it, and returned to his lump of dung intoxicated. When he
climbed upon it the moist dung gave way a little. "The world cannot hear my
weight!" he bawled out. At that very instant a maddened Elephant came to the
spot, and smelling the dung went back in disgust. The Beetle saw it. "Yon
creature," he thought, "is afraid of me, and see how he runs away!--I must fight
with him!" and so he challenged him in the first stanza:--
"Well matched! for we are heroes both: here let us issue try:
Turn back, turn back, friend Elephant! Why would you fear and fly?
Let Magadha and Aṅga see how great our bravery!"
The Elephant listened, and heard the voice; he turned back towards the Beetle,
and said the second stanza, by way of rebuke:--
"Non pede, longinquave manu, non dentibus utar:
Stercore, cui stercus cura, perisse decet."
[212] And so, dropping a great piece of dung upon him, and making water, he
killed him then and there; and scampered into the forest, trumpeting.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"In those days,
this lout was the dung-beetle, the Brother in question was the elephant, and I
was the tree-sprite who saw it all from that clump of trees."
Footnotes
147:1 Gāvutaddhayojanamatte. It may possibly mean 'an eighth.'
Next: No. 228. Kāmanīta-Jātaka
No. 227.
GŪTHA-PĀṆA-JĀTAKA.
"Well matched," etc.--This story the Master told while dwelling at Jetavana,
about one of the Brethren.
There stood at that time, about three-quarters 1 of a league from Jetavana, a
market town, where a great deal of rice was distributed by ticket, and special
meals were given. Here lived an inquisitive lout, who pestered the young men and
novices who came to share in the distribution--[210] "Who are for solid food?
who for drink? who for moist food?" And he made those who could not answer feel
ashamed, and they dreaded him so much that to that village they would not go.
One day, a brother came to the ticket-hall, with the question, "Any food for
distribution in such-and-such a village, sir?" "Yes, friend," was the answer,
"but there's a lubber here asking questions; if you can't answer them, he abuses
and reviles you. He is such a pest that nobody will go near the place." "Sir,"
said the other, "give me an order on the place, and I'll humble him, and make
him modest, and so influence him that whenever he sees you after this, he'll
feel inclined to run away."
The brothers agreed, and gave the necessary order. The man walked to our
village, and at the gate of it he put on his robe. The loafer spied him--was at
him like a mad ram, with "Answer me a question, priest!" "Layman, let me go
first about the village for my broth, and then come back with it to the waiting
hall."
When he returned with his meal, the man repeated his question. The brother
answered, "Leave me to finish my broth, to sweep the room, and to fetch my
ticket's worth of rice." So he fetched the rice; then placing his bowl in this
very man's hands, he said, "Come, now I'll answer your question."
p. 148
Then he led him outside the village, folded his outer robe, put it on his
shoulder, and taking the bowl from the other, stood waiting for him to begin.
The man said, "Priest, answer me one question." "Very well, so I will," said the
brother; and with one blow he felled him to the ground, bruised his eyes, beat
him, dropped filth in his face, and went off, with these parting words to
frighten him, "If ever again you ask a question of any Brother who comes to this
village, I'll see about it!"
After this, he took to his heels at the mere sight of a Brother.
By and bye all this became known among the Brotherhood. One day they were
talking about it in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, I hear that Brother So-and-so
dropped filth in the face of that loafer, and left him!" The Master came in, and
wanted to know what they were all talking about as they sat there. They told
him. Said he, "Brethren, this is not the first time this brother attacked the
man with dirt, but he did just the same before." Then he told them an old-world
tale.
[211] Once on a time, those citizens of the kingdoms of Aṅga and Magadha who
were travelling from one land to the other, used to stay in a house on the
marches of the two kingdoms, and there they drank liquor and ate the flesh of
fishes, and early in the morning they yoked their carts and went away. At the
time when they came, a certain dung-beetle, led by the odour of dung, came to
the place where they had drunken, and saw some liquor shed upon the ground, and
for thirst he drank it, and returned to his lump of dung intoxicated. When he
climbed upon it the moist dung gave way a little. "The world cannot hear my
weight!" he bawled out. At that very instant a maddened Elephant came to the
spot, and smelling the dung went back in disgust. The Beetle saw it. "Yon
creature," he thought, "is afraid of me, and see how he runs away!--I must fight
with him!" and so he challenged him in the first stanza:--
"Well matched! for we are heroes both: here let us issue try:
Turn back, turn back, friend Elephant! Why would you fear and fly?
Let Magadha and Aṅga see how great our bravery!"
The Elephant listened, and heard the voice; he turned back towards the Beetle,
and said the second stanza, by way of rebuke:--
"Non pede, longinquave manu, non dentibus utar:
Stercore, cui stercus cura, perisse decet."
[212] And so, dropping a great piece of dung upon him, and making water, he
killed him then and there; and scampered into the forest, trumpeting.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"In those days,
this lout was the dung-beetle, the Brother in question was the elephant, and I
was the tree-sprite who saw it all from that clump of trees."
Footnotes
147:1 Gāvutaddhayojanamatte. It may possibly mean 'an eighth.'
Next: No. 228. Kāmanīta-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kosiya Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 226. Kosiya-Jātaka
No. 226.
KOSIYA-JĀTAKA.
[208] "There is a time," etc.--A story told by the Master at Jetavana, about the
king of Kosala. This king started to quell a border rising at a bad season of
the year. The circumstances have been described already 1. The Master as before
told the king a story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, the king of Benares having started for the field of war at an
unseasonable time, set up a camp in his park. At that time an Owl entered a
thicket of bamboos, and hid in it. There came a flock of Crows: "We will catch
him," said they, "so soon as he shall come out." And they compassed it around.
Out he came before his time, nor did he wait until the sun should set; and tried
to make his escape. The crows surrounded him, and pecked him with their beaks
till he fell to the ground. The king asked the Bodhisatta: "Tell me, wise sir,
why are the crows attacking this owl?" And the Bodhisatta made answer, "They
that leave their dwelling before the right time, great king, fall into just such
misery as this. Therefore before the time one should not leave one's
p. 147
dwelling place." And to make the matter clear, he uttered this pair of verses:
"There is a time for every thing: who forth from home will go
One man or many, out of time, will surely meet some woe;
As did the Owl, unlucky fowl! pecked dead by many a crow.
"Who masters quite each rule and rite; who others' weakness knows;
Like wise owls, he will happy be, and conquer all his foes."
[209] When the king heard this, he turned back home again.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Ānanda was then the
king, and the wise courtier was I myself."
Footnotes
146:1 See no. 176, p. 51 above.
Next: No. 227. Gūtha-Pāṇa-Jātaka
No. 226.
KOSIYA-JĀTAKA.
[208] "There is a time," etc.--A story told by the Master at Jetavana, about the
king of Kosala. This king started to quell a border rising at a bad season of
the year. The circumstances have been described already 1. The Master as before
told the king a story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, the king of Benares having started for the field of war at an
unseasonable time, set up a camp in his park. At that time an Owl entered a
thicket of bamboos, and hid in it. There came a flock of Crows: "We will catch
him," said they, "so soon as he shall come out." And they compassed it around.
Out he came before his time, nor did he wait until the sun should set; and tried
to make his escape. The crows surrounded him, and pecked him with their beaks
till he fell to the ground. The king asked the Bodhisatta: "Tell me, wise sir,
why are the crows attacking this owl?" And the Bodhisatta made answer, "They
that leave their dwelling before the right time, great king, fall into just such
misery as this. Therefore before the time one should not leave one's
p. 147
dwelling place." And to make the matter clear, he uttered this pair of verses:
"There is a time for every thing: who forth from home will go
One man or many, out of time, will surely meet some woe;
As did the Owl, unlucky fowl! pecked dead by many a crow.
"Who masters quite each rule and rite; who others' weakness knows;
Like wise owls, he will happy be, and conquer all his foes."
[209] When the king heard this, he turned back home again.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Ānanda was then the
king, and the wise courtier was I myself."
Footnotes
146:1 See no. 176, p. 51 above.
Next: No. 227. Gūtha-Pāṇa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Khanti-Vannana Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 225. Khanti-Vaṇṇana-Jātaka
No. 225.
KHANTI-VAṆṆANA-JĀTAKA.
"There is a man," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about the king
of Kosala. A very useful subordinate intrigued in the harem. Even though he knew
the culprit, the king pocketed the affront, because the fellow was useful, and
told the Master of it. The Master said, "Other kings in days long gone by have
done the same;" and at his request, told the following story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, a man of his court fell
into an intrigue in the king's harem, and an attendant of this courtier did the
same thing in the courtier's house. The man could not endure to be thus
affronted. So he led the other before the king, saying, "My lord, [207] I have a
servant who does all manner of work, and he has made me a cuckold: what must I
do with him?" and with the question he uttered this first verse following
"There is a man within my house, a zealous servant too;
He has betrayed my trust, O king! Say--what am I to do?"
p. 146
On hearing this, the king uttered the second verse:--
"I too a zealous servant have; and here he stands, indeed!
Good men, I trow, are rare enow: so patience is my rede."
The courtier saw that these words of the king were aimed at him; and for the
future durst do no wrong in the king's house. And the servant likewise, having
come to know that the matter had been told to the king, durst for the future do
that thing no more.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"I was the king of
Benares." And the courtier on this occasion found out that the king had told of
him to the Master, and never did such a thing again.
Next: No. 226. Kosiya-Jātaka
No. 225.
KHANTI-VAṆṆANA-JĀTAKA.
"There is a man," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about the king
of Kosala. A very useful subordinate intrigued in the harem. Even though he knew
the culprit, the king pocketed the affront, because the fellow was useful, and
told the Master of it. The Master said, "Other kings in days long gone by have
done the same;" and at his request, told the following story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, a man of his court fell
into an intrigue in the king's harem, and an attendant of this courtier did the
same thing in the courtier's house. The man could not endure to be thus
affronted. So he led the other before the king, saying, "My lord, [207] I have a
servant who does all manner of work, and he has made me a cuckold: what must I
do with him?" and with the question he uttered this first verse following
"There is a man within my house, a zealous servant too;
He has betrayed my trust, O king! Say--what am I to do?"
p. 146
On hearing this, the king uttered the second verse:--
"I too a zealous servant have; and here he stands, indeed!
Good men, I trow, are rare enow: so patience is my rede."
The courtier saw that these words of the king were aimed at him; and for the
future durst do no wrong in the king's house. And the servant likewise, having
come to know that the matter had been told to the king, durst for the future do
that thing no more.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"I was the king of
Benares." And the courtier on this occasion found out that the king had told of
him to the Master, and never did such a thing again.
Next: No. 226. Kosiya-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kumbhila Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 224. Kumbhīla-Jātaka
p. 145
No. 224.
KUMBHĪLA-JĀTAKA.
"O Ape," etc.--This story the Master told at the Bamboo Grove, about Devadatta.
_____________________________
"O Ape, these virtues four bring victory:
Truth, Wisdom, Self-control, and Piety.
"Without these blessings is no victory--
Truth, Wisdom, Self-control, and Piety."
Next: No. 225. Khanti-Vaṇṇana-Jātaka
p. 145
No. 224.
KUMBHĪLA-JĀTAKA.
"O Ape," etc.--This story the Master told at the Bamboo Grove, about Devadatta.
_____________________________
"O Ape, these virtues four bring victory:
Truth, Wisdom, Self-control, and Piety.
"Without these blessings is no victory--
Truth, Wisdom, Self-control, and Piety."
Next: No. 225. Khanti-Vaṇṇana-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Puta Bhatta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 223. Puta Bhatta Jataka
No. 223.
PUṬA-BHATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Honour for honour," etc.--This story the Master told in Jetavana, about a
landed proprietor.
Tradition has it that once a landowner who was a citizen of Sāvatthi did
business with a landowner from the country. [203] Taking his wife with him, he
visited this man, his debtor; but the debtor averred that he could not pay. The
other, in anger, set out for home without having broken his fast. On the road,
some people met him; and seeing how famished the roan was, gave him food,
bidding him share it with his wife.
p. 143
When he got this, he grudged his wife a share. So addressing her he said, "Wife,
this is a well-known haunt of thieves, so you had better go in front." Having
thus got rid of her, he ate all the food, and then showed her the pot empty,
saying--"Look here, wife! they gave me an empty pot!" She guessed that he had
eaten it all up himself, and was much annoyed.
As they both passed by the monastery in Jetavana, they thought they would go
into the park and get a drink of water. There sat the Master, waiting on purpose
to see them, like a hunter on the trail, seated under the shade of his perfumed
cell. He greeted then kindly, and said, "Lay Sister, is your husband kind and
loving?" "I love him, sir," she replied, "but he does not love me; let alone
other days, this very day he was given a pot of food on the way, and gave not a
bit to me, but ate it all himself." "Lay Sister, so it has always been--you
loving and kind, and he loveless; but when by the help of the wise he learns
your worth, he will do you all honour." Then, at her request, he told an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
On a time, while Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the son of
one of the king's court. On coming of age he became the king's adviser in things
temporal and spiritual. It happened that the king was afraid of his son, lest he
might injure him; and sent him away. Taking his wife, the son departed from that
city, and came to a village of Kāsi, where he- dwelt. By and by when the father
died, his son hearing of it set out to go back to Benares; "that I may receive
the kingdom which is my birthright," said he. On his way one gave him a mess of
pottage, saying, "Eat, and give to your wife also." But he gave her none, and
did eat it all himself. [204] Thought she--"A cruel man this, indeed!" and she
was full of sorrow.
When he had come to Benares, and received his kingdom, he made her the queen
consort; but thinking--"A little is enough for her," he showed her no other
consideration or honour, not so much as to ask her how she did.
"This queen," thought the Bodhisatta, "serves the king well, and loves him; but
the king spends not a thought upon her. I will make him show her respect and
honour."
So he came to the queen, and made salutation, and stood aside. "What is it, dear
sir?" she asked.
"Lady," he asked, "how can we serve you? ought you not to give the old Fathers a
piece of cloth or a dish of rice?"
"Dear sir, I never receive anything myself; what shall I give to you? When I
received, did I not give? But now the king gives me nothing at all: let alone
giving anything else, as he was going along the road he received a bowl of rice,
and never gave me a bit--he ate it all himself."
"Well, madam, will you be able to say this in the king's presence?"
"Yes," she replied.
p. 144
"Very well then. To-day, when I stand before the king, when I ask my question do
you give the same answer: this very day will I make your goodness known." So the
Bodhisatta went on before, and stood in the king's presence. And she too went
and stood near the king.
Then said the Bodhisatta, "Madam, you are very cruel. Ought you not to give the
Fathers a piece of cloth or a dish of food?" And she made answer, "Good sir, I
myself receive nothing from the king: what can I give to you?"
"Are you not the queen consort?" quoth he.
"Good sir," said she, "what boots the place of a queen consort, when no respect
is paid? What will the king give me now? When he received a dish of rice on the
road, [205] he gave me none, but ate it all himself." And the Bodhisatta asked
him, "Is it so, O king?" And the king assented. When the Bodhisatta saw that the
king assented, "Then lady," quoth he, "why dwell here with the king after he has
become unkindly? In the world, union without love is painful. While you dwell
here, loveless union with the king will bring you sorrow. These folk honour him
that honours, and when one honours not--as soon as you see it, you should go
elsewhither; they that dwell in the world are many." And he repeated the stanzas
following:
Honour for honour, love for love is due:
Do good to him who does the same to you:
Observance breeds observance; but ’tis plain
None need help him who will not help again.
"Return neglect for negligence, nor stay
To comfort him whose love is past away.
The world is wide; and when the birds descry
That trees have lost their fruit--away they fly."
Hearing this, the king gave his queen all honour; and from that time forward
they dwelt together in friendship and harmony.
_____________________________
[206] When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths, and
identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the husband and wife
entered on the Fruit of the First Path:--"The husband and wife are the same in
both cases, and the wise counsellor was I myself."
Next: No. 224. Kumbhīla-Jātaka
No. 223.
PUṬA-BHATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Honour for honour," etc.--This story the Master told in Jetavana, about a
landed proprietor.
Tradition has it that once a landowner who was a citizen of Sāvatthi did
business with a landowner from the country. [203] Taking his wife with him, he
visited this man, his debtor; but the debtor averred that he could not pay. The
other, in anger, set out for home without having broken his fast. On the road,
some people met him; and seeing how famished the roan was, gave him food,
bidding him share it with his wife.
p. 143
When he got this, he grudged his wife a share. So addressing her he said, "Wife,
this is a well-known haunt of thieves, so you had better go in front." Having
thus got rid of her, he ate all the food, and then showed her the pot empty,
saying--"Look here, wife! they gave me an empty pot!" She guessed that he had
eaten it all up himself, and was much annoyed.
As they both passed by the monastery in Jetavana, they thought they would go
into the park and get a drink of water. There sat the Master, waiting on purpose
to see them, like a hunter on the trail, seated under the shade of his perfumed
cell. He greeted then kindly, and said, "Lay Sister, is your husband kind and
loving?" "I love him, sir," she replied, "but he does not love me; let alone
other days, this very day he was given a pot of food on the way, and gave not a
bit to me, but ate it all himself." "Lay Sister, so it has always been--you
loving and kind, and he loveless; but when by the help of the wise he learns
your worth, he will do you all honour." Then, at her request, he told an
old-world tale.
_____________________________
On a time, while Brahmadatta was king in Benares, the Bodhisatta was the son of
one of the king's court. On coming of age he became the king's adviser in things
temporal and spiritual. It happened that the king was afraid of his son, lest he
might injure him; and sent him away. Taking his wife, the son departed from that
city, and came to a village of Kāsi, where he- dwelt. By and by when the father
died, his son hearing of it set out to go back to Benares; "that I may receive
the kingdom which is my birthright," said he. On his way one gave him a mess of
pottage, saying, "Eat, and give to your wife also." But he gave her none, and
did eat it all himself. [204] Thought she--"A cruel man this, indeed!" and she
was full of sorrow.
When he had come to Benares, and received his kingdom, he made her the queen
consort; but thinking--"A little is enough for her," he showed her no other
consideration or honour, not so much as to ask her how she did.
"This queen," thought the Bodhisatta, "serves the king well, and loves him; but
the king spends not a thought upon her. I will make him show her respect and
honour."
So he came to the queen, and made salutation, and stood aside. "What is it, dear
sir?" she asked.
"Lady," he asked, "how can we serve you? ought you not to give the old Fathers a
piece of cloth or a dish of rice?"
"Dear sir, I never receive anything myself; what shall I give to you? When I
received, did I not give? But now the king gives me nothing at all: let alone
giving anything else, as he was going along the road he received a bowl of rice,
and never gave me a bit--he ate it all himself."
"Well, madam, will you be able to say this in the king's presence?"
"Yes," she replied.
p. 144
"Very well then. To-day, when I stand before the king, when I ask my question do
you give the same answer: this very day will I make your goodness known." So the
Bodhisatta went on before, and stood in the king's presence. And she too went
and stood near the king.
Then said the Bodhisatta, "Madam, you are very cruel. Ought you not to give the
Fathers a piece of cloth or a dish of food?" And she made answer, "Good sir, I
myself receive nothing from the king: what can I give to you?"
"Are you not the queen consort?" quoth he.
"Good sir," said she, "what boots the place of a queen consort, when no respect
is paid? What will the king give me now? When he received a dish of rice on the
road, [205] he gave me none, but ate it all himself." And the Bodhisatta asked
him, "Is it so, O king?" And the king assented. When the Bodhisatta saw that the
king assented, "Then lady," quoth he, "why dwell here with the king after he has
become unkindly? In the world, union without love is painful. While you dwell
here, loveless union with the king will bring you sorrow. These folk honour him
that honours, and when one honours not--as soon as you see it, you should go
elsewhither; they that dwell in the world are many." And he repeated the stanzas
following:
Honour for honour, love for love is due:
Do good to him who does the same to you:
Observance breeds observance; but ’tis plain
None need help him who will not help again.
"Return neglect for negligence, nor stay
To comfort him whose love is past away.
The world is wide; and when the birds descry
That trees have lost their fruit--away they fly."
Hearing this, the king gave his queen all honour; and from that time forward
they dwelt together in friendship and harmony.
_____________________________
[206] When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths, and
identified the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the husband and wife
entered on the Fruit of the First Path:--"The husband and wife are the same in
both cases, and the wise counsellor was I myself."
Next: No. 224. Kumbhīla-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Cula-Nandiya Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 222. Cula-Nandiya Jataka
p. 140
No. 222.
CŪLA-NANDIYA-JĀTAKA 1.
"I call to mind," etc.--This story the Master told whilst dwelling in the Bamboo
Grove, about Devadatta.
One day the brethren fell a-talking in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, that man
Devadatta is harsh, cruel, and tyrannical, full of baneful devices against the
Supreme Buddha. He flung a stone 2, he even used the aid of Nāḷāgiri 3; pity and
compassion there is none in him for the Tathāgata."
The Master came in, and asked what they were talking about as they sat there.
They told him. Then he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that
Devadatta has been harsh, cruel, merciless. He was so before." And he told them
an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta became a
Monkey named Nandiya, or Jolly; and dwelt in the Himalaya region; and his
youngest brother bore the name of Jollikin. They two headed a band of eighty
thousand monkeys, and they had a blind mother in their home to care for.
They left their mother in her lair in the bushes, and went amongst the trees to
find sweet wild fruit of all kinds, which they sent back home to her. The
messengers did not deliver it; and, tormented with hunger, she became nothing
but skin and bone. Said the Bodhisatta to her,
"Mother, we send you plenty of sweet fruits: then what makes you so thin?"
"My son, I never get it!" [200]
The Bodhisatta pondered. "While I look after my herd, my mother will perish! I
will leave the herd, and look after my mother alone." So calling his brother,
"Brother," said he, "do you tend the herd, and I will care for our mother."
"Nay, brother," replied he, "what care I for ruling a herd? I too will care for
only our mother!" So the two of them were of one mind, and leaving the herd,
they brought their mother down out of Himalaya, and took up their abode in a
banyan tree of the border-land, where they took care of her.
p. 141
Now a certain Brahmin, who lived at Takkasilā, had received his education from a
famous teacher, and afterward he took leave of him, saying that he would depart.
This teacher had the power of divining from the signs on a man's body; and thus
he perceived that his pupil was harsh, cruel, and violent. "My son," said he,
"you are harsh, and cruel, and violent. Such persons do not prosper at all
seasons alike; they come to dire woe and dire destruction. Be not harsh, nor do
what you will afterwards repent." With this counsel, he let him go.
The youth took leave of his teacher, and went his way to Benares. There he
married and settled down; and not being able to earn a livelihood by any other
of his arts, he determined to live by his bow. So he set to work as a huntsman;
and left Benares to earn his living. Dwelling in a border village, he would
range the woods girt with bow and quiver, and lived by sale of the flesh of all
manner of beasts which he slew.
One day, as he was returning homewards after having caught nothing at all in the
forest, he observed a banyan tree standing on the verge of an open glade.
"Perhaps," thought he, "there may be something here." And he turned his face
towards the banyan tree. Now the two brothers had just fed their mother with
fruits, and were sitting behind her in the tree, when they saw the man coming.
"Even if he sees our mother," said they, "what will he do?" and they hid amongst
the branches. Then this cruel man, as he came up to the tree and saw the mother
monkey weak with age, and blind, thought to himself, "Why should I return
empty-handed? I will shoot this she-monkey first!" [201] and lifted up his bow
to shoot her. This the Bodhisatta saw, and said to his brother, "Jollikin, my
dear, this man wants to shoot our mother! I will save her life. When I am dead,
do you take care of her." So saying, down he came out of the tree, and called
out,
"O man, don't shoot my mother! she is blind, and weak for age. I will save her
life; don't kill her, but kill me instead!" and when the other had promised, he
sat down in a place within bowshot. The hunter pitilessly shot the Bodhisatta;
when he dropped, the man prepared his bow to shoot the mother monkey. Jollikin
saw this, and thought to himself, "Yon hunter wants to shoot my mother. Even if
she only lives a day, she will have received the gift of life; I will give my
life for hers." Accordingly, down he came from the tree, and said,
"O man, don't shoot my mother! I give my life for hers. Shoot me--take both us
brothers, and spare our mother's life!" The hunter consented, and Jollikin
squatted down within bowshot. The hunter shot this one too, and killed him--"It
will do for my children at home," thought he--and he shot the mother too; hung
them all three on his carrying pole, and set his face homewards. At that moment
a thunderbolt fell upon the
p. 142
house of this wicked man, and burnt up his wife and two children with the house:
nothing was left but the roof and the bamboo uprights.
A man met him at the entering in of the village, and told him of it. Sorrow for
his wife and children overcame him: down on the spot he dropped his pole with
the game, and his bow, threw off his garments, and naked he went homewards,
wailing with hands outstretched. Then the bamboo uprights broke, and fell upon
his head, and crushed it. The earth yawned, flame rose from hell. As he was
being swallowed up in the earth, he thought upon his master's warning: [202]
"Then this was the teaching that the Brahmin Pārāsariya gave me!" and lamenting
he uttered these stanzas:
"I call to mind my teacher's words: so this was what he meant!
Be careful you should nothing do of which you might repent.
"Whatever a man does, the same he in himself will find;
The good man, good; and evil he that evil has designed;
And so our deeds are all like seeds, and bring forth fruit in kind."
_____________________________
Lamenting thus, he went down into the earth, and came to life in the depths of
hell.
When the Master had ended this discourse, by which he showed how in other days,
as then, Devadatta had been harsh, cruel, and merciless, he identified the Birth
in these words: "In those days Devadatta was the hunter, Sāriputta was the
famous teacher, Ānanda was Jollikin, the noble Lady Gotamī was the mother, and I
was the monkey Jolly."
Footnotes
140:1 Questions of Milinda, iv. 4. 24 (trans. in S. B. E., xxxv. 287).
140:2 For the stone-throwing see Cullavagga vii. 3. 9; Hardy, Manual, p. 320.
140:3 A fierce elephant, let loose at Devadatta's request to kill the Buddha.
See Cullavagga vii. 3. 11 f. (Vinaya Texts, S. B. E., iii. 247 f.); Milinda, iv.
4. 44 (where he is called Dhanapālaka, as supra vol. i. 57); Hardy, Manual, p.
320.
Next: No. 223. Puṭa-Bhatta-Jātaka
p. 140
No. 222.
CŪLA-NANDIYA-JĀTAKA 1.
"I call to mind," etc.--This story the Master told whilst dwelling in the Bamboo
Grove, about Devadatta.
One day the brethren fell a-talking in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, that man
Devadatta is harsh, cruel, and tyrannical, full of baneful devices against the
Supreme Buddha. He flung a stone 2, he even used the aid of Nāḷāgiri 3; pity and
compassion there is none in him for the Tathāgata."
The Master came in, and asked what they were talking about as they sat there.
They told him. Then he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that
Devadatta has been harsh, cruel, merciless. He was so before." And he told them
an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta became a
Monkey named Nandiya, or Jolly; and dwelt in the Himalaya region; and his
youngest brother bore the name of Jollikin. They two headed a band of eighty
thousand monkeys, and they had a blind mother in their home to care for.
They left their mother in her lair in the bushes, and went amongst the trees to
find sweet wild fruit of all kinds, which they sent back home to her. The
messengers did not deliver it; and, tormented with hunger, she became nothing
but skin and bone. Said the Bodhisatta to her,
"Mother, we send you plenty of sweet fruits: then what makes you so thin?"
"My son, I never get it!" [200]
The Bodhisatta pondered. "While I look after my herd, my mother will perish! I
will leave the herd, and look after my mother alone." So calling his brother,
"Brother," said he, "do you tend the herd, and I will care for our mother."
"Nay, brother," replied he, "what care I for ruling a herd? I too will care for
only our mother!" So the two of them were of one mind, and leaving the herd,
they brought their mother down out of Himalaya, and took up their abode in a
banyan tree of the border-land, where they took care of her.
p. 141
Now a certain Brahmin, who lived at Takkasilā, had received his education from a
famous teacher, and afterward he took leave of him, saying that he would depart.
This teacher had the power of divining from the signs on a man's body; and thus
he perceived that his pupil was harsh, cruel, and violent. "My son," said he,
"you are harsh, and cruel, and violent. Such persons do not prosper at all
seasons alike; they come to dire woe and dire destruction. Be not harsh, nor do
what you will afterwards repent." With this counsel, he let him go.
The youth took leave of his teacher, and went his way to Benares. There he
married and settled down; and not being able to earn a livelihood by any other
of his arts, he determined to live by his bow. So he set to work as a huntsman;
and left Benares to earn his living. Dwelling in a border village, he would
range the woods girt with bow and quiver, and lived by sale of the flesh of all
manner of beasts which he slew.
One day, as he was returning homewards after having caught nothing at all in the
forest, he observed a banyan tree standing on the verge of an open glade.
"Perhaps," thought he, "there may be something here." And he turned his face
towards the banyan tree. Now the two brothers had just fed their mother with
fruits, and were sitting behind her in the tree, when they saw the man coming.
"Even if he sees our mother," said they, "what will he do?" and they hid amongst
the branches. Then this cruel man, as he came up to the tree and saw the mother
monkey weak with age, and blind, thought to himself, "Why should I return
empty-handed? I will shoot this she-monkey first!" [201] and lifted up his bow
to shoot her. This the Bodhisatta saw, and said to his brother, "Jollikin, my
dear, this man wants to shoot our mother! I will save her life. When I am dead,
do you take care of her." So saying, down he came out of the tree, and called
out,
"O man, don't shoot my mother! she is blind, and weak for age. I will save her
life; don't kill her, but kill me instead!" and when the other had promised, he
sat down in a place within bowshot. The hunter pitilessly shot the Bodhisatta;
when he dropped, the man prepared his bow to shoot the mother monkey. Jollikin
saw this, and thought to himself, "Yon hunter wants to shoot my mother. Even if
she only lives a day, she will have received the gift of life; I will give my
life for hers." Accordingly, down he came from the tree, and said,
"O man, don't shoot my mother! I give my life for hers. Shoot me--take both us
brothers, and spare our mother's life!" The hunter consented, and Jollikin
squatted down within bowshot. The hunter shot this one too, and killed him--"It
will do for my children at home," thought he--and he shot the mother too; hung
them all three on his carrying pole, and set his face homewards. At that moment
a thunderbolt fell upon the
p. 142
house of this wicked man, and burnt up his wife and two children with the house:
nothing was left but the roof and the bamboo uprights.
A man met him at the entering in of the village, and told him of it. Sorrow for
his wife and children overcame him: down on the spot he dropped his pole with
the game, and his bow, threw off his garments, and naked he went homewards,
wailing with hands outstretched. Then the bamboo uprights broke, and fell upon
his head, and crushed it. The earth yawned, flame rose from hell. As he was
being swallowed up in the earth, he thought upon his master's warning: [202]
"Then this was the teaching that the Brahmin Pārāsariya gave me!" and lamenting
he uttered these stanzas:
"I call to mind my teacher's words: so this was what he meant!
Be careful you should nothing do of which you might repent.
"Whatever a man does, the same he in himself will find;
The good man, good; and evil he that evil has designed;
And so our deeds are all like seeds, and bring forth fruit in kind."
_____________________________
Lamenting thus, he went down into the earth, and came to life in the depths of
hell.
When the Master had ended this discourse, by which he showed how in other days,
as then, Devadatta had been harsh, cruel, and merciless, he identified the Birth
in these words: "In those days Devadatta was the hunter, Sāriputta was the
famous teacher, Ānanda was Jollikin, the noble Lady Gotamī was the mother, and I
was the monkey Jolly."
Footnotes
140:1 Questions of Milinda, iv. 4. 24 (trans. in S. B. E., xxxv. 287).
140:2 For the stone-throwing see Cullavagga vii. 3. 9; Hardy, Manual, p. 320.
140:3 A fierce elephant, let loose at Devadatta's request to kill the Buddha.
See Cullavagga vii. 3. 11 f. (Vinaya Texts, S. B. E., iii. 247 f.); Milinda, iv.
4. 44 (where he is called Dhanapālaka, as supra vol. i. 57); Hardy, Manual, p.
320.
Next: No. 223. Puṭa-Bhatta-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kasava Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 221. Kāsāva-Jātaka
No. 221.
KĀSĀVA-JĀTAKA.
"If any man," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at Jetavana, about
Devadatta.
It was occasioned by something that happened at Rājagaha. At one period the
Captain of the Faith was living with five hundred brethren at the Bamboo Grove.
And Devadatta, with a body of men wicked like himself, lived at Gayāsīsa.
At that time the citizens of Rājagaha used to club together for the purpose of
almsgiving. A trader, who had come there on business, brought a magnificent
perfumed yellow robe, asking that he might become one of them, and give this
garment as his contribution. The townspeople brought plenty of gifts. All that
was contributed by those who had clubbed together consisted of ready money.
There was this garment left. The crowd which had come together said, "Here is
this beautiful perfumed robe left over. Who shall have it--Elder Sāriputta, or
Devadatta?" Some were in favour of Sāriputta; others said, "Elder Sāriputta will
stay here a few days, [197] and then go travelling at his own sweet will; but
Devadatta always lives near our city; he is our refuge in good fortune or ill.
Devadatta shall have it!" They made a division, and those who voted for
Devadatta were in the majority. So to Devadatta they gave it. He had it cut in
strips, and sewn together, and coloured like gold, and so he wore it upon him.
At the same time, thirty Brethren went from Sāvatthi to salute the Master. After
greetings had been exchanged, they told him all this affair, adding, "And so,
sir, Devadatta wears this mark of the saint, which suits him ill enough."
"Brethren," said the Master, "this is not the first time that Devadatta has put
on the garb of a saint, a most unsuitable dress. He slid the same before." And
then he told them an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
this world as an Elephant in the Himalaya region.
p. 139
[paragraph continues] Lord of a herd that numbered eighty thousand wild
elephants, he dwelt in the forest land.
A poor man that lived in Benares, seeing the workers of ivory in the ivory
bazaar making bangles and all manner of ivory trinkets, he asked them would they
buy an elephant's tusks, if he should get them. To which they answered, Yes.
So he took a weapon, and clothing himself in a yellow robe, he put on the guise
of a Pacceka-Buddha 1, with a covering band about his head. Taking his stand in
the path of the elephants, he slew one of them with his weapon, and sold the
tusks of it in Benares; and in this manner he made a living. After this he began
always to slay the very last elephant in the Bodhisatta's troop. Day by day the
elephants grew fewer and fewer. Then they went and asked the Bodhisatta how it
was that their numbers dwindled. He perceived the reason. "Some man," thought
he, "stands in the place where the elephants go, having made himself like a
Pacceka-Buddha in appearance. Now can it be he that slays the elephants? I will
find him out." So one day he sent the others on before him [198] and he followed
after. The man saw the Bodhisatta, and made a rush at him with his weapon. The
Bodhisatta turned and stood. "I will beat him to the earth, and kill him!"
thought he: and stretched out his trunk,--when he saw the yellow robes which the
man wore. "I ought to pay respect to those sacred robes!" said he. So drawing
back his trunk, he cried--"O man! Is not that dress, the flag of sainthood,
unsuitable to you? Why do you wear it?" and he repeated these lines:
"If any man, yet full of sin, should dare
To don the yellow robe, in whom no care
For temperance is found, or love of truth,
He is not worthy such a robe to wear.
He who has speed out sin, who everywhere
Is firm in virtue, and whose chiefest care
Is to control his passions, and be true,
He well deserves the yellow robe to wear."
[199] With these words, the Bodhisatta rebuked the man, and bade him never come
there again, else he should die for it. Thus he drove him away.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Devadatta was
the man who killed the elephants, and the head of the herd was I."
Footnotes
139:1 One who has attained the knowledge needful for attaining Nirvana, but does
not preach it to men.
Next: No. 222. Cūla-Nandiya-Jātaka
No. 221.
KĀSĀVA-JĀTAKA.
"If any man," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at Jetavana, about
Devadatta.
It was occasioned by something that happened at Rājagaha. At one period the
Captain of the Faith was living with five hundred brethren at the Bamboo Grove.
And Devadatta, with a body of men wicked like himself, lived at Gayāsīsa.
At that time the citizens of Rājagaha used to club together for the purpose of
almsgiving. A trader, who had come there on business, brought a magnificent
perfumed yellow robe, asking that he might become one of them, and give this
garment as his contribution. The townspeople brought plenty of gifts. All that
was contributed by those who had clubbed together consisted of ready money.
There was this garment left. The crowd which had come together said, "Here is
this beautiful perfumed robe left over. Who shall have it--Elder Sāriputta, or
Devadatta?" Some were in favour of Sāriputta; others said, "Elder Sāriputta will
stay here a few days, [197] and then go travelling at his own sweet will; but
Devadatta always lives near our city; he is our refuge in good fortune or ill.
Devadatta shall have it!" They made a division, and those who voted for
Devadatta were in the majority. So to Devadatta they gave it. He had it cut in
strips, and sewn together, and coloured like gold, and so he wore it upon him.
At the same time, thirty Brethren went from Sāvatthi to salute the Master. After
greetings had been exchanged, they told him all this affair, adding, "And so,
sir, Devadatta wears this mark of the saint, which suits him ill enough."
"Brethren," said the Master, "this is not the first time that Devadatta has put
on the garb of a saint, a most unsuitable dress. He slid the same before." And
then he told them an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
this world as an Elephant in the Himalaya region.
p. 139
[paragraph continues] Lord of a herd that numbered eighty thousand wild
elephants, he dwelt in the forest land.
A poor man that lived in Benares, seeing the workers of ivory in the ivory
bazaar making bangles and all manner of ivory trinkets, he asked them would they
buy an elephant's tusks, if he should get them. To which they answered, Yes.
So he took a weapon, and clothing himself in a yellow robe, he put on the guise
of a Pacceka-Buddha 1, with a covering band about his head. Taking his stand in
the path of the elephants, he slew one of them with his weapon, and sold the
tusks of it in Benares; and in this manner he made a living. After this he began
always to slay the very last elephant in the Bodhisatta's troop. Day by day the
elephants grew fewer and fewer. Then they went and asked the Bodhisatta how it
was that their numbers dwindled. He perceived the reason. "Some man," thought
he, "stands in the place where the elephants go, having made himself like a
Pacceka-Buddha in appearance. Now can it be he that slays the elephants? I will
find him out." So one day he sent the others on before him [198] and he followed
after. The man saw the Bodhisatta, and made a rush at him with his weapon. The
Bodhisatta turned and stood. "I will beat him to the earth, and kill him!"
thought he: and stretched out his trunk,--when he saw the yellow robes which the
man wore. "I ought to pay respect to those sacred robes!" said he. So drawing
back his trunk, he cried--"O man! Is not that dress, the flag of sainthood,
unsuitable to you? Why do you wear it?" and he repeated these lines:
"If any man, yet full of sin, should dare
To don the yellow robe, in whom no care
For temperance is found, or love of truth,
He is not worthy such a robe to wear.
He who has speed out sin, who everywhere
Is firm in virtue, and whose chiefest care
Is to control his passions, and be true,
He well deserves the yellow robe to wear."
[199] With these words, the Bodhisatta rebuked the man, and bade him never come
there again, else he should die for it. Thus he drove him away.
_____________________________
After this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Devadatta was
the man who killed the elephants, and the head of the herd was I."
Footnotes
139:1 One who has attained the knowledge needful for attaining Nirvana, but does
not preach it to men.
Next: No. 222. Cūla-Nandiya-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Dhammaddhaja Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 220. Dhammaddhaja-Jātaka
p. 131
No. 220 1.
DHAMMADDHAJA-JĀTAKA.
"You look as though," etc.--This was told by the Master while staying at the
Bamboo Grove, about attempts to murder him. On this occasion, as before, the
Master said, "This is not the first time Devadatta has tried to murder me and
has not even frightened me. He did the same before." And he told this story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time reigned at Benares a king named Yasapāṇi, the Glorious. His
chief captain was named Kāḷaka, or Blackie. At that time the Bodhisatta was his
chaplain, and had the name of Dhammaddhaja, the Banner of the Faith. There was
also a man Chattapāṇi, maker of ornaments to the king. The king was a good king.
But his chief captain swallowed bribes in the judging of causes; he was a
backbiter; he took bribes, and defrauded the rightful owners.
On a day, one who had lost his suit was departing from the court, weeping and
stretching out his arms, [187] when he fell in with the Bodhisatta as he was
going to pay his service to the king. Falling at his feet, the man cried out,
telling how he had been worsted in his cause: "Although such as you, my lord,
instruct the king in the things of this world and the next, the
Commander-in-Chief takes bribes, and defrauds rightful owners!"
The Bodhisatta pitied him. "Come, my good fellow," says he, "I will judge your
cause for you!" and he proceeded to the court-house. A great company gathered
together. The Bodhisatta reversed the sentence, and gave judgement for him that
had the right. The spectators applauded. The sound was great. The king heard it,
and asked--"What sound is this I hear?"
"My lord king," they answered, "it is a cause wrongly judged that has been
judged aright by the wise Dhammaddhaja; that is why there is this shout of
applause."
The king was pleased and sent for the Bodhisatta. "They tell me," he began,
"that you have judged a cause?"
"Yes, great king, I have judged that which Kāḷaka did not judge aright."
p. 132
"Be you judge from this day," said the king; "it will be a joy for my ears, and
prosperity for the world!" He was unwilling, but the king begged him--"In mercy
to all creatures, sit you in judgement!" and so the king won his consent.
From that time Kāḷaka received no presents; and losing his gains he spoke
calumny of the Bodhisatta before the king, saying, "O mighty King, the wise
Dhammaddhaja covets your kingdom!" But the king would not believe; and bade him
say not so.
"If you do not believe me," said Kāḷaka, "look out of the window at the time of
his coming. Then you will see that he has got the whole city into his own
hands."
The king saw the crowd of those that were about him in his judgement hall.
"There is his retinue," thought he. He gave way. "What are we to do, Captain?"
he asked.
"My lord, he must be put to death." [188]
"How can we put him to death without having found him out in some great
wickedness?"
"There is a way," said the other.
"What way?"
"Tell him to do what is impossible, and if he cannot, put him to death for
that."
"But what is impossible to him?"
"My lord king," replied he, "it takes two years or twice two for a garden with
good soil to bear fruit, being planted and tended. Send you for him, and
say--'We want a garden to disport ourselves in to-morrow. Make us a garden!'
This he will not be able to do; and we will slay him for that fault."
The king addressed himself to the Bodhisatta. "Wise Sir, we have sported long
enough in our old garden; now we crave to sport in a new. Make us a garden! If
you cannot make it, you must die."
The Bodhisatta reasoned, "It must be that Kāḷaka has set the king against me,
because he gets no presents.--If I can," he said to the king, "O mighty king, I
will see to it." And he went home. After a good meal he lay upon his bed,
thinking. Sakka's palace grew hot 1. Sakka reflecting perceived the Bodhisatta's
difficulty. He made haste to him, entered his chamber, and asked him--"Wise Sir,
what think you on'?"--poised the while in mid-air.
"Who are you?" asked the Bodhisatta.
p. 133
"I am Sakka."
"The king bids me make a garden: that is what I am thinking upon."
"Wise Sir, do not trouble: I will make you a garden like the groves of Nandana
and Cittalatā! In what place shall I make it?"
"In such and such a place," he told him. Sakka made it, and returned to the city
of the gods.
Next day, the Bodhisatta beheld the garden there in very truth, and sought the
king's presence. "O king, the garden is ready: go to your sport!"
The king came to the place, and beheld a garden girt with a fence of eighteen
cubits, vermilion tinted, having gates and ponds, [189] beautiful with all
manner of trees laden heavy with flowers and fruit! "The sage has done my
bidding," said he to Kāḷaka: "now what are we to do?"
"O mighty King!" replied he, "if he can make a garden in one night, can he not
seize upon your kingdom?"
"Well, what are we to do?"
"We will make him perform another impossible thing."
"What is that?" asked the king.
"We will bid him make a lake possessed of the seven precious jewels!"
The king agreed, and thus addressed the Bodhisatta:
"Teacher, you have made a park. Make now a lake to match it, with the seven
precious jewels. If, you cannot make it, you shall not live!"
"Very good, great King," answered the Bodhisatta, "I will make it if I can."
Then Sakka made a lake of great splendour, having an hundred landing-places, a
thousand inlets, covered over with lotus plants of five different colours, like
the lake in Nandana.
Next clay, the Bodhisatta beheld this also, and told the king: "See, the lake is
made!" And the king saw it, and asked of Kāḷaka what was to be done.
"Bid him, my lord, make a house to suit it," said he.
"Make a house, Teacher," said the king to the Bodhisatta, "all of ivory, to suit
with the park and the lake: if you do not make it, you must die!"
Then Sakka made him a house likewise. The Bodhisatta beheld it next day, and
told the king. When the king had seen it, he asked Kāḷaka again, what was to do.
Kāḷaka told him to bid the Bodhisatta make a jewel to suit the house. The king
said to him, "Wise Sir, make a jewel to suit with this ivory house; I will go
about looking at it by the light of the jewel: if you cannot make one, you must
die! "Then Sakka
p. 134
made him a jewel too. Next day the Bodhisatta beheld it, and told the king.
[190] When the king had seen it, he again asked Kāḷaka what was to be done.
"Mighty king!" answered he, "I think there is some sprite who does each thing
that the Brahmin Dhammaddhaja wishes. Now bid him make something which even a
divinity cannot make. Not even a deity can make a man with all four virtues 1;
therefore bid him make a keeper with these four." So the king said, "Teacher,
you have made a park, a lake, and a palace, and a jewel to give light. Now make
me a keeper with four virtues, to watch the park; if you cannot, you must die."
"So be it," answered he, "if it is possible, I will see to it." He went home,
had a good meal, and lay down. When he awoke in the morning, he sat upon his
bed, and thought thus. "What the great king Sakka can make by his power, that he
has made. He cannot make a park-keeper with four virtues'. This being so, it is
better to die forlorn in the woods, than to die at the hand of other men." So
saying no word to any man, he went down from his dwelling and passed out of the
city by the chief gate, and entered the woods, where he sat him down beneath a
tree and reflected upon the religion of the good. Sakka perceived it; and in the
fashion of a forester he approached the Bodhisatta, saying,
"Brahmin, you are young and tender: why sit you here in this wood, as though you
had never seen pain before?" As he asked it, he repeated the first stanza:--
"You look as though your life must happy be;
Yet to the wild woods you would homeless go,
Like some poor wretch whose life was misery,
And pine beneath this tree in lonely woe."
[191] To this the Bodhisatta made answer in the second stanza:--
"I look as though my life must happy be;
Yet to the wild woods I would homeless go,
Like some poor wretch whose life was misery,
And pine beneath this tree in lonely woe,
Pondering the truth that all the saints do know."
Then Sakka said, "If so, then why, Brahmin, are you sitting here?"
"The king," he made answer, "requires a park-keeper with four good qualities;
such an one cannot be found; so I thought--Why perish by the hand of man? I will
off to the woods, and die a lonely death. So here I came, and here I. sit."
Then the other replied, "Brahmin, I am Sakka, king of the gods. By
p. 135
me was your park made, and those other things. A park-keeper possessed of four
virtues cannot be made; but in your country there is one Chattapāṇi, who makes
ornaments for the head, and he is such a man. If a park-keeper is wanted, go and
make this workman the keeper." With these words Sakka departed to his city
divine, after consoling him and bidding him fear no more.
[192] The Bodhisatta went home, and having broken his fast, he
repaired to the palace gates, and there in that spot he saw Chattapāṇi. He took
him by the hand, and asked him--"Is it true, as I hear, Chattapāṇi, that you are
endowed with the four virtues?"
"Who told you so?" asked the other.
"Sakka, king of the gods."
"Why did he tell you?" He recounted all, and told the reason. The other said,
"Yes, I am endowed with the four virtues." The Bodhisatta taking him by the hand
led him into the king's presence. "Here, mighty monarch, is Chattapāṇi, endowed
with four virtues. If there is need of a keeper for the park, make him keeper."
"Is it true, as I hear," the king asked him, "that you have four virtues?"
"Yes, mighty king."
"What are they? "he asked.
"I envy not, and drink no wine;
No strong desire, no wrath is mine,"
said he.
"Why, Chattapāṇi," cried the king, "did you say you have no envy?"
"Yes, O king, I have no envy."
"What are the things you do not envy?"
"Listen, my lord!" said he; and then he told how he felt no envy in the
following lines 1:--
p. 136
"A chaplain once in bonds I threw--
Which thing a woman made me do:
He built me up in holy lore;
Since when I never envied more."
[193] Then the king said, "Dear Chattapāṇi, why do you abstain from strong
drink?" And the other answered in the following verse 1--
p. 137
"Once I was drunken, and I ate
My own son's flesh upon my plate;
Then, touched with sorrow and with pain,
Swore never to touch drink again."
[194] Then the king said, "But what, dear sir, makes you indifferent, without
love?" The man explained it in these words 1:--
"King Kitavāsa was my name;
A mighty king was I;
My boy the Buddha's basin broke
And so he had to die."
[195] Said the king then, "What was it, good friend, that made you to be without
anger?" And the other made the matter clear in these lines:
"As Araka, for seven years
I practised charity;
And then for seven ages dwelt
In Brahma's heaven on high."
When Chattapāṇi had thus explained his four attributes, the king made a sign to
his attendants. And in an instant all the court, [196] priests and laymen and
all, rose up, and cried out upon Kāḷaka--"Fie, bribe-swallowing thief and
scoundrel! You couldn't get your bribes, and so you would murder the wise man by
speaking ill of him!" They seized him by hand and foot, and bundled him out of
the palace; and catching up whatever
p. 138
they could get hold of, this a stone, and this a staff, they broke his head and
did him to death: and dragging him by the feet they cast him upon a dunghill.
Thenceforward the king ruled in righteousness, until he passed away according to
his deserts.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Devadatta was the
Commander Kāḷaka, Sāriputta was the artisan Chattapāṇi, and I was Dhammaddhaja."
Footnotes
131:1 Here we have the "Hero's Tasks" in a new form.
132:1 This was supposed to happen when a good man was in straits. Some modern
superstitions, turning upon the pity of a god for creatures in pain, may be seen
in North Ind. N. and Q. iii. 285. As this: "Hot oil is poured into a dog's ear
and the pain makes him yell. It is believed that his yells are heard by Raja
Indra, who in pity stops the rain."
134:1 Caturcaṅga-samannāgataṁ; it is an odd coincidence that the Pythagoreans
called the perfect man τετράγωνος, 'four-square' (see the poem of Simonides, in
Plat. Prot. 339 B).
135:1 The following is the commentary on these lines. The story is that of No.
120, where the first stanza of those which follow, is given. "This is the
meaning. In former days, I was a king of Benares like this, and for a woman's
sake I imprisoned a chaplain.
The free are bound, when folly has her say;
When wisdom speaks, the bond go free away.
Just as in the Birth now spoken of, this Chattapāṇi became king. The queen
intrigued with sixty-four of the slaves. She tempted the Bodhisatta, and when he
would not consent she tried to ruin him by speaking calumny of him; then the
king threw him into prison. The Bodhisatta was brought before him bound, and
explained the real state of the case. Then he was set free himself; and then he
got the king to release all those slaves who had been imprisoned, and advised
him to forgive both p. 136 the queen and them. All the rest is to be understood
exactly as explained above. It was in reference to this he said
"A chaplain once in bonds I threw--
Which thing a woman made me do:
He built me up in holy lore;
Since when I never envied more."
But then I thought, 'I have avoided sixteen thousand women, and I cannot satisfy
this one in the way of passion. Such is the anger of women, hard to satisfy. It
is like being angry, saying, 'Why is it dirty?' when a worn garment is dirty; it
is like being angry, saying, 'Why does it become like this?' when after s meal
some passes into the draught. I made a resolve that henceforth no envy should
arise in me by way of passion, lest I should fail to become a saint. From that
time I have been free from envy. This is the point of saying, 'Since when I
never envied more.'"
136:1 The scholiast tells the following story to illustrate this verse.--"I was
once," says the speaker, "a king of Benares; I could not live without strong
drink and meat. Now in that city animals might not be slaughtered on the Sabbath
(uposathadivasesu); so the cook had prepared some meat for my Sabbath meal the
day before (the 13th of the lunar fortnight). This, being badly kept, the dogs
ate. The cook durst not come before the king on the Sabbath to serve his rich
and varied repast in the upper chamber without meat, so he asked the queen's
advice. "My lady, to-day I have no meat; and without it I dare not offer a meal
to him, what am I to do?" Said she, "The king is very fond of my son. As he
fondles him, he hardly knows whether he exists or not. [194] I will dress my son
up, and give him into the king's hands, and while he plays with him you shall
serve his dinner; he will not notice." So she dressed up her darling son, and
put him into the king's hands. As he was playing with the lad, the cook served
the dinner. The king, mad with drink, and seeing no meat upon the dish, asked
where the meat was. The answer was that no meat was to be had that day because
there was no killing on the Sabbath. "Meat is hard to get for me, is it?" he
said; and then he wrung his dear son's neck as he sat in his arms, and killed
him; threw him down before the cook, and told him to look sharp and cook it. The
cook obeyed, and the king ate his own son's flesh. For dread of the king not a
soul durst weep or wail or say a word. The king ate, and went to sleep. Next
morning, having slept off his intoxication, he asked for his son. Then the queen
fell weeping at his feet, and said, "Oh, sir, yesterday you killed your son and
ate his flesh!" The king wept and wailed for grief, and thought, "This is
because of drinking strong drink!" Then, seeing the mischief of drinking, I made
a resolution that lest I should never become a saint, I would never touch this
deadly liquor; taking dust, and rubbing it upon my mouth. From that time I have
drunk no strong drink. This is the point of the lines, "Once I was drunken."
137:1 The scholiast tells this story: "The meaning is, Once upon a time I was a
king named Kitavāsa, and a son was born to me. The fortune-tellers said that the
boy would perish of lack of water. So he was named Duṭṭhakumāra. When he grew
up, he was viceroy. The king kept his son close to him, before or behind; and to
break the prophecy had tanks made at the four city gates and here and there
inside the city; he made halls in the squares and crossways, and set water jars
in them. One day the young man, dressed finely, went to the park by himself. On
his way he saw a Pacceka-Buddha in the road, and many people spoke to him,
praised him, did obeisance before him. [195] 'What!' thought the prince, 'when
such as I am passing by, do people show all this respect to yonder shavepate?'
Angry, he dismounted from the elephant, and asked the Buddha if he had received
his food. 'Yes,' was the reply. The prince took it from him, cast it on the
ground, rice and bowl together, and crushed it to dust under his feet. 'The man
is lost, verily!' said the Buddha, and looked into his face. 'I am Prince
Duṭṭha, son of king Kitavāsa!' said the prince--'what harm will you do me, by
looking angrily at me and opening your eyes?' The Buddha, having lost his food,
rose up in the air and went off to a cave at the foot of Nanda, in Northern
Himalaya. At that very moment the prince's evil-doing began to bear fruit, and
he cried--'I burn! I burn!' His body burst into flame, and he fell down in the
road where he was; all the water that there was near disappeared, the conduits
dried up, then and there he perished, and passed into hell. The king heard it,
and was overcome with grief. Then he thought--'This grief is come upon me
because my son was dear to me. If I had had no affection, I had had no pain.
From this time forward I resolve that I will fix my affection on nothing,
animate or inanimate.'"
Next: No. 221. Kāsāva-Jātaka
p. 131
No. 220 1.
DHAMMADDHAJA-JĀTAKA.
"You look as though," etc.--This was told by the Master while staying at the
Bamboo Grove, about attempts to murder him. On this occasion, as before, the
Master said, "This is not the first time Devadatta has tried to murder me and
has not even frightened me. He did the same before." And he told this story.
_____________________________
Once upon a time reigned at Benares a king named Yasapāṇi, the Glorious. His
chief captain was named Kāḷaka, or Blackie. At that time the Bodhisatta was his
chaplain, and had the name of Dhammaddhaja, the Banner of the Faith. There was
also a man Chattapāṇi, maker of ornaments to the king. The king was a good king.
But his chief captain swallowed bribes in the judging of causes; he was a
backbiter; he took bribes, and defrauded the rightful owners.
On a day, one who had lost his suit was departing from the court, weeping and
stretching out his arms, [187] when he fell in with the Bodhisatta as he was
going to pay his service to the king. Falling at his feet, the man cried out,
telling how he had been worsted in his cause: "Although such as you, my lord,
instruct the king in the things of this world and the next, the
Commander-in-Chief takes bribes, and defrauds rightful owners!"
The Bodhisatta pitied him. "Come, my good fellow," says he, "I will judge your
cause for you!" and he proceeded to the court-house. A great company gathered
together. The Bodhisatta reversed the sentence, and gave judgement for him that
had the right. The spectators applauded. The sound was great. The king heard it,
and asked--"What sound is this I hear?"
"My lord king," they answered, "it is a cause wrongly judged that has been
judged aright by the wise Dhammaddhaja; that is why there is this shout of
applause."
The king was pleased and sent for the Bodhisatta. "They tell me," he began,
"that you have judged a cause?"
"Yes, great king, I have judged that which Kāḷaka did not judge aright."
p. 132
"Be you judge from this day," said the king; "it will be a joy for my ears, and
prosperity for the world!" He was unwilling, but the king begged him--"In mercy
to all creatures, sit you in judgement!" and so the king won his consent.
From that time Kāḷaka received no presents; and losing his gains he spoke
calumny of the Bodhisatta before the king, saying, "O mighty King, the wise
Dhammaddhaja covets your kingdom!" But the king would not believe; and bade him
say not so.
"If you do not believe me," said Kāḷaka, "look out of the window at the time of
his coming. Then you will see that he has got the whole city into his own
hands."
The king saw the crowd of those that were about him in his judgement hall.
"There is his retinue," thought he. He gave way. "What are we to do, Captain?"
he asked.
"My lord, he must be put to death." [188]
"How can we put him to death without having found him out in some great
wickedness?"
"There is a way," said the other.
"What way?"
"Tell him to do what is impossible, and if he cannot, put him to death for
that."
"But what is impossible to him?"
"My lord king," replied he, "it takes two years or twice two for a garden with
good soil to bear fruit, being planted and tended. Send you for him, and
say--'We want a garden to disport ourselves in to-morrow. Make us a garden!'
This he will not be able to do; and we will slay him for that fault."
The king addressed himself to the Bodhisatta. "Wise Sir, we have sported long
enough in our old garden; now we crave to sport in a new. Make us a garden! If
you cannot make it, you must die."
The Bodhisatta reasoned, "It must be that Kāḷaka has set the king against me,
because he gets no presents.--If I can," he said to the king, "O mighty king, I
will see to it." And he went home. After a good meal he lay upon his bed,
thinking. Sakka's palace grew hot 1. Sakka reflecting perceived the Bodhisatta's
difficulty. He made haste to him, entered his chamber, and asked him--"Wise Sir,
what think you on'?"--poised the while in mid-air.
"Who are you?" asked the Bodhisatta.
p. 133
"I am Sakka."
"The king bids me make a garden: that is what I am thinking upon."
"Wise Sir, do not trouble: I will make you a garden like the groves of Nandana
and Cittalatā! In what place shall I make it?"
"In such and such a place," he told him. Sakka made it, and returned to the city
of the gods.
Next day, the Bodhisatta beheld the garden there in very truth, and sought the
king's presence. "O king, the garden is ready: go to your sport!"
The king came to the place, and beheld a garden girt with a fence of eighteen
cubits, vermilion tinted, having gates and ponds, [189] beautiful with all
manner of trees laden heavy with flowers and fruit! "The sage has done my
bidding," said he to Kāḷaka: "now what are we to do?"
"O mighty King!" replied he, "if he can make a garden in one night, can he not
seize upon your kingdom?"
"Well, what are we to do?"
"We will make him perform another impossible thing."
"What is that?" asked the king.
"We will bid him make a lake possessed of the seven precious jewels!"
The king agreed, and thus addressed the Bodhisatta:
"Teacher, you have made a park. Make now a lake to match it, with the seven
precious jewels. If, you cannot make it, you shall not live!"
"Very good, great King," answered the Bodhisatta, "I will make it if I can."
Then Sakka made a lake of great splendour, having an hundred landing-places, a
thousand inlets, covered over with lotus plants of five different colours, like
the lake in Nandana.
Next clay, the Bodhisatta beheld this also, and told the king: "See, the lake is
made!" And the king saw it, and asked of Kāḷaka what was to be done.
"Bid him, my lord, make a house to suit it," said he.
"Make a house, Teacher," said the king to the Bodhisatta, "all of ivory, to suit
with the park and the lake: if you do not make it, you must die!"
Then Sakka made him a house likewise. The Bodhisatta beheld it next day, and
told the king. When the king had seen it, he asked Kāḷaka again, what was to do.
Kāḷaka told him to bid the Bodhisatta make a jewel to suit the house. The king
said to him, "Wise Sir, make a jewel to suit with this ivory house; I will go
about looking at it by the light of the jewel: if you cannot make one, you must
die! "Then Sakka
p. 134
made him a jewel too. Next day the Bodhisatta beheld it, and told the king.
[190] When the king had seen it, he again asked Kāḷaka what was to be done.
"Mighty king!" answered he, "I think there is some sprite who does each thing
that the Brahmin Dhammaddhaja wishes. Now bid him make something which even a
divinity cannot make. Not even a deity can make a man with all four virtues 1;
therefore bid him make a keeper with these four." So the king said, "Teacher,
you have made a park, a lake, and a palace, and a jewel to give light. Now make
me a keeper with four virtues, to watch the park; if you cannot, you must die."
"So be it," answered he, "if it is possible, I will see to it." He went home,
had a good meal, and lay down. When he awoke in the morning, he sat upon his
bed, and thought thus. "What the great king Sakka can make by his power, that he
has made. He cannot make a park-keeper with four virtues'. This being so, it is
better to die forlorn in the woods, than to die at the hand of other men." So
saying no word to any man, he went down from his dwelling and passed out of the
city by the chief gate, and entered the woods, where he sat him down beneath a
tree and reflected upon the religion of the good. Sakka perceived it; and in the
fashion of a forester he approached the Bodhisatta, saying,
"Brahmin, you are young and tender: why sit you here in this wood, as though you
had never seen pain before?" As he asked it, he repeated the first stanza:--
"You look as though your life must happy be;
Yet to the wild woods you would homeless go,
Like some poor wretch whose life was misery,
And pine beneath this tree in lonely woe."
[191] To this the Bodhisatta made answer in the second stanza:--
"I look as though my life must happy be;
Yet to the wild woods I would homeless go,
Like some poor wretch whose life was misery,
And pine beneath this tree in lonely woe,
Pondering the truth that all the saints do know."
Then Sakka said, "If so, then why, Brahmin, are you sitting here?"
"The king," he made answer, "requires a park-keeper with four good qualities;
such an one cannot be found; so I thought--Why perish by the hand of man? I will
off to the woods, and die a lonely death. So here I came, and here I. sit."
Then the other replied, "Brahmin, I am Sakka, king of the gods. By
p. 135
me was your park made, and those other things. A park-keeper possessed of four
virtues cannot be made; but in your country there is one Chattapāṇi, who makes
ornaments for the head, and he is such a man. If a park-keeper is wanted, go and
make this workman the keeper." With these words Sakka departed to his city
divine, after consoling him and bidding him fear no more.
[192] The Bodhisatta went home, and having broken his fast, he
repaired to the palace gates, and there in that spot he saw Chattapāṇi. He took
him by the hand, and asked him--"Is it true, as I hear, Chattapāṇi, that you are
endowed with the four virtues?"
"Who told you so?" asked the other.
"Sakka, king of the gods."
"Why did he tell you?" He recounted all, and told the reason. The other said,
"Yes, I am endowed with the four virtues." The Bodhisatta taking him by the hand
led him into the king's presence. "Here, mighty monarch, is Chattapāṇi, endowed
with four virtues. If there is need of a keeper for the park, make him keeper."
"Is it true, as I hear," the king asked him, "that you have four virtues?"
"Yes, mighty king."
"What are they? "he asked.
"I envy not, and drink no wine;
No strong desire, no wrath is mine,"
said he.
"Why, Chattapāṇi," cried the king, "did you say you have no envy?"
"Yes, O king, I have no envy."
"What are the things you do not envy?"
"Listen, my lord!" said he; and then he told how he felt no envy in the
following lines 1:--
p. 136
"A chaplain once in bonds I threw--
Which thing a woman made me do:
He built me up in holy lore;
Since when I never envied more."
[193] Then the king said, "Dear Chattapāṇi, why do you abstain from strong
drink?" And the other answered in the following verse 1--
p. 137
"Once I was drunken, and I ate
My own son's flesh upon my plate;
Then, touched with sorrow and with pain,
Swore never to touch drink again."
[194] Then the king said, "But what, dear sir, makes you indifferent, without
love?" The man explained it in these words 1:--
"King Kitavāsa was my name;
A mighty king was I;
My boy the Buddha's basin broke
And so he had to die."
[195] Said the king then, "What was it, good friend, that made you to be without
anger?" And the other made the matter clear in these lines:
"As Araka, for seven years
I practised charity;
And then for seven ages dwelt
In Brahma's heaven on high."
When Chattapāṇi had thus explained his four attributes, the king made a sign to
his attendants. And in an instant all the court, [196] priests and laymen and
all, rose up, and cried out upon Kāḷaka--"Fie, bribe-swallowing thief and
scoundrel! You couldn't get your bribes, and so you would murder the wise man by
speaking ill of him!" They seized him by hand and foot, and bundled him out of
the palace; and catching up whatever
p. 138
they could get hold of, this a stone, and this a staff, they broke his head and
did him to death: and dragging him by the feet they cast him upon a dunghill.
Thenceforward the king ruled in righteousness, until he passed away according to
his deserts.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Devadatta was the
Commander Kāḷaka, Sāriputta was the artisan Chattapāṇi, and I was Dhammaddhaja."
Footnotes
131:1 Here we have the "Hero's Tasks" in a new form.
132:1 This was supposed to happen when a good man was in straits. Some modern
superstitions, turning upon the pity of a god for creatures in pain, may be seen
in North Ind. N. and Q. iii. 285. As this: "Hot oil is poured into a dog's ear
and the pain makes him yell. It is believed that his yells are heard by Raja
Indra, who in pity stops the rain."
134:1 Caturcaṅga-samannāgataṁ; it is an odd coincidence that the Pythagoreans
called the perfect man τετράγωνος, 'four-square' (see the poem of Simonides, in
Plat. Prot. 339 B).
135:1 The following is the commentary on these lines. The story is that of No.
120, where the first stanza of those which follow, is given. "This is the
meaning. In former days, I was a king of Benares like this, and for a woman's
sake I imprisoned a chaplain.
The free are bound, when folly has her say;
When wisdom speaks, the bond go free away.
Just as in the Birth now spoken of, this Chattapāṇi became king. The queen
intrigued with sixty-four of the slaves. She tempted the Bodhisatta, and when he
would not consent she tried to ruin him by speaking calumny of him; then the
king threw him into prison. The Bodhisatta was brought before him bound, and
explained the real state of the case. Then he was set free himself; and then he
got the king to release all those slaves who had been imprisoned, and advised
him to forgive both p. 136 the queen and them. All the rest is to be understood
exactly as explained above. It was in reference to this he said
"A chaplain once in bonds I threw--
Which thing a woman made me do:
He built me up in holy lore;
Since when I never envied more."
But then I thought, 'I have avoided sixteen thousand women, and I cannot satisfy
this one in the way of passion. Such is the anger of women, hard to satisfy. It
is like being angry, saying, 'Why is it dirty?' when a worn garment is dirty; it
is like being angry, saying, 'Why does it become like this?' when after s meal
some passes into the draught. I made a resolve that henceforth no envy should
arise in me by way of passion, lest I should fail to become a saint. From that
time I have been free from envy. This is the point of saying, 'Since when I
never envied more.'"
136:1 The scholiast tells the following story to illustrate this verse.--"I was
once," says the speaker, "a king of Benares; I could not live without strong
drink and meat. Now in that city animals might not be slaughtered on the Sabbath
(uposathadivasesu); so the cook had prepared some meat for my Sabbath meal the
day before (the 13th of the lunar fortnight). This, being badly kept, the dogs
ate. The cook durst not come before the king on the Sabbath to serve his rich
and varied repast in the upper chamber without meat, so he asked the queen's
advice. "My lady, to-day I have no meat; and without it I dare not offer a meal
to him, what am I to do?" Said she, "The king is very fond of my son. As he
fondles him, he hardly knows whether he exists or not. [194] I will dress my son
up, and give him into the king's hands, and while he plays with him you shall
serve his dinner; he will not notice." So she dressed up her darling son, and
put him into the king's hands. As he was playing with the lad, the cook served
the dinner. The king, mad with drink, and seeing no meat upon the dish, asked
where the meat was. The answer was that no meat was to be had that day because
there was no killing on the Sabbath. "Meat is hard to get for me, is it?" he
said; and then he wrung his dear son's neck as he sat in his arms, and killed
him; threw him down before the cook, and told him to look sharp and cook it. The
cook obeyed, and the king ate his own son's flesh. For dread of the king not a
soul durst weep or wail or say a word. The king ate, and went to sleep. Next
morning, having slept off his intoxication, he asked for his son. Then the queen
fell weeping at his feet, and said, "Oh, sir, yesterday you killed your son and
ate his flesh!" The king wept and wailed for grief, and thought, "This is
because of drinking strong drink!" Then, seeing the mischief of drinking, I made
a resolution that lest I should never become a saint, I would never touch this
deadly liquor; taking dust, and rubbing it upon my mouth. From that time I have
drunk no strong drink. This is the point of the lines, "Once I was drunken."
137:1 The scholiast tells this story: "The meaning is, Once upon a time I was a
king named Kitavāsa, and a son was born to me. The fortune-tellers said that the
boy would perish of lack of water. So he was named Duṭṭhakumāra. When he grew
up, he was viceroy. The king kept his son close to him, before or behind; and to
break the prophecy had tanks made at the four city gates and here and there
inside the city; he made halls in the squares and crossways, and set water jars
in them. One day the young man, dressed finely, went to the park by himself. On
his way he saw a Pacceka-Buddha in the road, and many people spoke to him,
praised him, did obeisance before him. [195] 'What!' thought the prince, 'when
such as I am passing by, do people show all this respect to yonder shavepate?'
Angry, he dismounted from the elephant, and asked the Buddha if he had received
his food. 'Yes,' was the reply. The prince took it from him, cast it on the
ground, rice and bowl together, and crushed it to dust under his feet. 'The man
is lost, verily!' said the Buddha, and looked into his face. 'I am Prince
Duṭṭha, son of king Kitavāsa!' said the prince--'what harm will you do me, by
looking angrily at me and opening your eyes?' The Buddha, having lost his food,
rose up in the air and went off to a cave at the foot of Nanda, in Northern
Himalaya. At that very moment the prince's evil-doing began to bear fruit, and
he cried--'I burn! I burn!' His body burst into flame, and he fell down in the
road where he was; all the water that there was near disappeared, the conduits
dried up, then and there he perished, and passed into hell. The king heard it,
and was overcome with grief. Then he thought--'This grief is come upon me
because my son was dear to me. If I had had no affection, I had had no pain.
From this time forward I resolve that I will fix my affection on nothing,
animate or inanimate.'"
Next: No. 221. Kāsāva-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Garahita Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 219. Garahita-Jātaka
No. 219 2.
GARAHITA-JĀTAKA.
"The gold is mine," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a
brother who was downcast and discontent.
This man could not concentrate his mind on any single object, but his life was
all full of discontent; and this was told to the Master. When asked by the
Master if he really were discontented, he said yes; asked why, he replied t! at
it was through his passions. "O Brother!" said the Master, "this passion has
been despised even by the lower animals; and can you, a priest of such a
doctrine, yield to discontent arising from the passion that even brutes
despise?" Then he told him an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned over Benares, the Bodhisatta came
into the world as a Monkey, in the region of Himalaya. A. woodranger caught him,
brought him home and gave him to the king. For a long time he dwelt with the
king, serving him faithfully, and he learnt a great deal about the manners of
the world of men. The king was
p. 130
pleased at his faithfulness. He sent for the woodranger, and bade him set the
monkey free in the very place where he had been caught; and so he did.
All the monkey tribe gathered together upon the face of a huge rock, to see the
Bodhisatta now that he had come back to them; and they spoke pleasantly to him.
"Sir, where have you been living this long time?"
"In the king's palace at Benares."
"Then how did you get free?"
"The king made me his pet monkey, and being pleased with my tricks, he let me
go."
The monkeys went on--"You must know the manner of living in the world of men:
[185] tell us about it too--we want to hear!"
"Don't ask me the manner of men's living," quoth the Bodhisatta. "Do tell--we
want to hear!" they said again.
"Mankind," said he, "both princes and Brahmans, cry out--'Mine! mine!' They know
not of the impermanence, by which the things that be are not. Hear now the way
of these blind fools;" and he spoke these verses:
"'The gold is mine, the precious gold!' so cry they, night and day:
These foolish folk cast never a look upon the holy way.
"There are two masters in the house; one has no beard to wear,
But has long breasts, ears pierced with holes, and goes with plaited hair;
His price is told in countless gold; he plagues all people there."
[186] On hearing this, all the monkeys cried out--"Stop, stop! we have heard
what it is not meet to hear!" and with both hands they stopped their ears tight.
And they liked not the place, because they said, "In this place we heard a thing
not seemly;" so they went elsewhere. And this rock went by the name of
Garahitapiṭṭhi Rock, or the Rock of Blaming.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths this Brother reached the Fruit of
the First Path:--"The Buddha's present followers were that troop of monkeys, and
their chief was I myself."
Footnotes
129:2 Folk-Lore Journal, iii. 253.
Next: No. 220. Dhammaddhaja-Jātaka
No. 219 2.
GARAHITA-JĀTAKA.
"The gold is mine," etc.--This story the Master told at Jetavana, about a
brother who was downcast and discontent.
This man could not concentrate his mind on any single object, but his life was
all full of discontent; and this was told to the Master. When asked by the
Master if he really were discontented, he said yes; asked why, he replied t! at
it was through his passions. "O Brother!" said the Master, "this passion has
been despised even by the lower animals; and can you, a priest of such a
doctrine, yield to discontent arising from the passion that even brutes
despise?" Then he told him an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned over Benares, the Bodhisatta came
into the world as a Monkey, in the region of Himalaya. A. woodranger caught him,
brought him home and gave him to the king. For a long time he dwelt with the
king, serving him faithfully, and he learnt a great deal about the manners of
the world of men. The king was
p. 130
pleased at his faithfulness. He sent for the woodranger, and bade him set the
monkey free in the very place where he had been caught; and so he did.
All the monkey tribe gathered together upon the face of a huge rock, to see the
Bodhisatta now that he had come back to them; and they spoke pleasantly to him.
"Sir, where have you been living this long time?"
"In the king's palace at Benares."
"Then how did you get free?"
"The king made me his pet monkey, and being pleased with my tricks, he let me
go."
The monkeys went on--"You must know the manner of living in the world of men:
[185] tell us about it too--we want to hear!"
"Don't ask me the manner of men's living," quoth the Bodhisatta. "Do tell--we
want to hear!" they said again.
"Mankind," said he, "both princes and Brahmans, cry out--'Mine! mine!' They know
not of the impermanence, by which the things that be are not. Hear now the way
of these blind fools;" and he spoke these verses:
"'The gold is mine, the precious gold!' so cry they, night and day:
These foolish folk cast never a look upon the holy way.
"There are two masters in the house; one has no beard to wear,
But has long breasts, ears pierced with holes, and goes with plaited hair;
His price is told in countless gold; he plagues all people there."
[186] On hearing this, all the monkeys cried out--"Stop, stop! we have heard
what it is not meet to hear!" and with both hands they stopped their ears tight.
And they liked not the place, because they said, "In this place we heard a thing
not seemly;" so they went elsewhere. And this rock went by the name of
Garahitapiṭṭhi Rock, or the Rock of Blaming.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths this Brother reached the Fruit of
the First Path:--"The Buddha's present followers were that troop of monkeys, and
their chief was I myself."
Footnotes
129:2 Folk-Lore Journal, iii. 253.
Next: No. 220. Dhammaddhaja-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kuta-Vanija Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 218. Kūṭa-Vāṇija-Jātaka
p. 127
No. 218.
KŪṬA-VĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA.
"Well planned indeed!" etc.--[181] This story the Master told while staying in
Jetavana, about a dishonest trader.
There were two traders of Sāvatthi, one pious and the other a cheat. These two
joined partnership, and loaded five hundred waggons full of wares, journeying
from east to west for trade; and returned to Sāvatthi with large profits.
The pious trader suggested to his partner that they should divide their stock.
The rogue thought to himself, "This fellow has been roughing it for ever so long
with bad food and lodging. Now he's at home again, he'll eat all sorts of
dainties and die of a surfeit. Then I shall have all the stock for myself." What
he said was, "Neither the stars nor the day are favourable; to-morrow or the
next day we'll see about it;" so he kept putting it oft: However, the pious
trader pressed him, and the division was made. Then he went with scents and
garlands to visit the Master; and after a respectful obeisance, he sat on one
side. The Master asked when he had returned. "Just a fortnight ago, Sir," said
he. "Then why have you delayed to visit the Buddha?" The trader explained. Then
the Master said, "It is not only now that your partner is a rogue; he was just
the same before;" and at his request told him an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came
into this world as the son of one in the king's court. When he grew up he was
made a Lord Justice.
At that time, two traders, one from a village and one of the town, were friends
together. The villager deposited with the townsman five hundred ploughshares.
The other sold these, and kept the price, and in the place where they were he
scattered mouse clung. By and by came the villager, and asked for his
ploughshare 1. "The mice have eaten them up 2!" said the cheat, and pointed out
the mouse clung to him.
p. 128
"Well, well, so be it," replied the other: "what can be done with things which
the mice have eaten?
Now at the time of bathing he took the other trader's son, and set him in a
friend's house, in an inner chamber, bidding them not suffer him to go out any
whither. [182] And having washed himself he went to his friend's house.
"Where is my son?" asked the cheat.
"Dear friend," he replied, "I took him with me and left him on the river side;
and when I was gone down into the water, there came a hawk, and seized your son
in his extended claws, and flew up into the air. I beat the water, shouted,
struggled--but could not make him let go."
"Lies!" cried the rogue. "No hawk could carry off a boy"
"Let be, dear friend: if things happen that should not, how can I help it? Your
son has been carried off by a hawk, as I say."
The other reviled him. "Ah, you scoundrel! you murderer! Now I will go to the
judge, and have you dragged before him!" And he departed. The villager said, "As
you please," and went to the court of justice. The rogue addressed the
Bodhisatta thus
"My lord, this fellow took my son with him to bathe, and when I asked where he
was, he answered, that a hawk had carried him off. Judge my cause!"
"Tell the truth," said the Bodhisatta, asking the other.
"Indeed, my lord," he answered, "I took him with me, and a falcon has carried
him off."
"But where in the world are there hawks which carry off boys?"
"My lord," he answered, "I have a question to ask you. If hawks cannot carry off
boys into the air, can mice eat iron ploughshares?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"My lord, I deposited in this man's house five hundred ploughshares. The man
told me that the mice had devoured them, and showed me the droppings of the mice
that had done it. My lord, if mice eat ploughshares, then hawks carry off boys:
but if mice cannot do this, neither will hawks carry the boy off. This man says
the mice ate my ploughshares. Give sentence whether they are eaten or no. [183]
Judge my cause!"
"He must have meant," thought the Bodhisatta, "to fight the trickster with his
own weapons.--Well devised!" said he, and then he uttered these two verses:--
"Well planned indeed! The biter bit,
The trickster tricked--a pretty hit!
If mice eat ploughshares, hawks can fly
With boys away into the sky! p. 129
"A rogue out-rogued with tit for tat!
Give back the plough, and after that
Perhaps the man who lost the plough
May give your son back to you now!" 1
[184] Thus he that had lost his son received him again, and he received his
ploughshare that had lost it; and afterwards both passed away to fare according
to their deeds.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"The cheat in
both cases was the same, and so was the clever man; I myself was the Lord Chief
Justice."
Footnotes
127:1 Here, in the last sentence but one, and in the verses the singular phālaṁ
is used. It is possible this may be a collective, but more likely that it harks
back to a simpler and older version, where only one is spoken of. Readers cannot
fail to have marked the fondness of the Jātaka editor for round numbers,
especially five hundred.
127:2 Things gnawed by mice or rats were unlucky; cp. vol. 1. p. 372 (Pāli),
Tevijja-Sutta Mahāsīlaṁ i (trans. in S. B. E., Buddhist Suttas, p. 196). The man
here goes further than he need; if the mice had but nibbled the ploughshares
perhaps he might throw them away.--We may also have a reference to an old
proverb, found both in Greek and Latin: "where mice eat iron" meant "nowhere."
Herondas 3. 76 οὑδ᾽ ὅκου χώρης οἱ μῦς ὁμοίως τὸν σίδηρον τρώγουσιν. Seneca,
Apocolocyntosis chap. 7 (to Claudius in heaven) venisti huc ubi mures ferrum
rodunt.
129:1 A like repartee is found in North Ind. N. and O. iii. 214 (The Judgement
of the Jackal); Swynnerton, Ind. Nights Entertainments, p. 142 (The Traveller
and the Oilman); and a story of an oilman in Stumme's Tunische Märchen, vol. ii.
Next: No. 219. Garahita-Jātaka
p. 127
No. 218.
KŪṬA-VĀṆIJA-JĀTAKA.
"Well planned indeed!" etc.--[181] This story the Master told while staying in
Jetavana, about a dishonest trader.
There were two traders of Sāvatthi, one pious and the other a cheat. These two
joined partnership, and loaded five hundred waggons full of wares, journeying
from east to west for trade; and returned to Sāvatthi with large profits.
The pious trader suggested to his partner that they should divide their stock.
The rogue thought to himself, "This fellow has been roughing it for ever so long
with bad food and lodging. Now he's at home again, he'll eat all sorts of
dainties and die of a surfeit. Then I shall have all the stock for myself." What
he said was, "Neither the stars nor the day are favourable; to-morrow or the
next day we'll see about it;" so he kept putting it oft: However, the pious
trader pressed him, and the division was made. Then he went with scents and
garlands to visit the Master; and after a respectful obeisance, he sat on one
side. The Master asked when he had returned. "Just a fortnight ago, Sir," said
he. "Then why have you delayed to visit the Buddha?" The trader explained. Then
the Master said, "It is not only now that your partner is a rogue; he was just
the same before;" and at his request told him an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came
into this world as the son of one in the king's court. When he grew up he was
made a Lord Justice.
At that time, two traders, one from a village and one of the town, were friends
together. The villager deposited with the townsman five hundred ploughshares.
The other sold these, and kept the price, and in the place where they were he
scattered mouse clung. By and by came the villager, and asked for his
ploughshare 1. "The mice have eaten them up 2!" said the cheat, and pointed out
the mouse clung to him.
p. 128
"Well, well, so be it," replied the other: "what can be done with things which
the mice have eaten?
Now at the time of bathing he took the other trader's son, and set him in a
friend's house, in an inner chamber, bidding them not suffer him to go out any
whither. [182] And having washed himself he went to his friend's house.
"Where is my son?" asked the cheat.
"Dear friend," he replied, "I took him with me and left him on the river side;
and when I was gone down into the water, there came a hawk, and seized your son
in his extended claws, and flew up into the air. I beat the water, shouted,
struggled--but could not make him let go."
"Lies!" cried the rogue. "No hawk could carry off a boy"
"Let be, dear friend: if things happen that should not, how can I help it? Your
son has been carried off by a hawk, as I say."
The other reviled him. "Ah, you scoundrel! you murderer! Now I will go to the
judge, and have you dragged before him!" And he departed. The villager said, "As
you please," and went to the court of justice. The rogue addressed the
Bodhisatta thus
"My lord, this fellow took my son with him to bathe, and when I asked where he
was, he answered, that a hawk had carried him off. Judge my cause!"
"Tell the truth," said the Bodhisatta, asking the other.
"Indeed, my lord," he answered, "I took him with me, and a falcon has carried
him off."
"But where in the world are there hawks which carry off boys?"
"My lord," he answered, "I have a question to ask you. If hawks cannot carry off
boys into the air, can mice eat iron ploughshares?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"My lord, I deposited in this man's house five hundred ploughshares. The man
told me that the mice had devoured them, and showed me the droppings of the mice
that had done it. My lord, if mice eat ploughshares, then hawks carry off boys:
but if mice cannot do this, neither will hawks carry the boy off. This man says
the mice ate my ploughshares. Give sentence whether they are eaten or no. [183]
Judge my cause!"
"He must have meant," thought the Bodhisatta, "to fight the trickster with his
own weapons.--Well devised!" said he, and then he uttered these two verses:--
"Well planned indeed! The biter bit,
The trickster tricked--a pretty hit!
If mice eat ploughshares, hawks can fly
With boys away into the sky! p. 129
"A rogue out-rogued with tit for tat!
Give back the plough, and after that
Perhaps the man who lost the plough
May give your son back to you now!" 1
[184] Thus he that had lost his son received him again, and he received his
ploughshare that had lost it; and afterwards both passed away to fare according
to their deeds.
_____________________________
When this discourse was ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"The cheat in
both cases was the same, and so was the clever man; I myself was the Lord Chief
Justice."
Footnotes
127:1 Here, in the last sentence but one, and in the verses the singular phālaṁ
is used. It is possible this may be a collective, but more likely that it harks
back to a simpler and older version, where only one is spoken of. Readers cannot
fail to have marked the fondness of the Jātaka editor for round numbers,
especially five hundred.
127:2 Things gnawed by mice or rats were unlucky; cp. vol. 1. p. 372 (Pāli),
Tevijja-Sutta Mahāsīlaṁ i (trans. in S. B. E., Buddhist Suttas, p. 196). The man
here goes further than he need; if the mice had but nibbled the ploughshares
perhaps he might throw them away.--We may also have a reference to an old
proverb, found both in Greek and Latin: "where mice eat iron" meant "nowhere."
Herondas 3. 76 οὑδ᾽ ὅκου χώρης οἱ μῦς ὁμοίως τὸν σίδηρον τρώγουσιν. Seneca,
Apocolocyntosis chap. 7 (to Claudius in heaven) venisti huc ubi mures ferrum
rodunt.
129:1 A like repartee is found in North Ind. N. and O. iii. 214 (The Judgement
of the Jackal); Swynnerton, Ind. Nights Entertainments, p. 142 (The Traveller
and the Oilman); and a story of an oilman in Stumme's Tunische Märchen, vol. ii.
Next: No. 219. Garahita-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Seggu Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 217. Seggu-Jātaka
p. 126
No. 217.
SEGGU-JĀTAKA.
"All the world's on pleasure bent," etc.--This story the Master told, while
dwelling at Jetavana, about a greengrocer who was a lay-brother.
The circumstances have been already given in the First Book 1. Here again the
Master asked him where he had been so long; and he replied, "My daughter, Sir,
is always smiling. After testing her, I gave her in marriage to a young
gentleman. As this had to be done, I had no opportunity of paying you a visit."
To this the Master answered, "Not now only is your daughter virtuous, but
virtuous she was in days of yore; and as you have tested her now, so you tested
her in those days." And at the man's request he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
tree-spirit.
This same pious greengrocer took it into his head to test his daughter. He led
her into the woods, [180] and seized her by the hand, making as though he had
conceived a passion for her. And as she cried out in woe, he addressed her in
the words of the first stanza:--
"All the world's on pleasure bent;
Ah, my baby innocent!
Now I've caught you, pray don't cry;
As the town does, so do I."
When she heard it, she answered, "Dear Father, I ant a maid, and I know not the
ways of sin:" and weeping she uttered the second stanza:--
"He that should keep me safe from all distress,
The same betrays me in my loneliness;
My father, who should be my sure defence,
Here in the forest offers violence."
And the greengrocer, after testing his daughter thus, took her home, and gave
her in marriage to a young man. Afterwards he passed away according to his
deeds.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the end of the Truths the greengrocer entered on the Fruit of the
First Path:--"In those days, father and daughter were the snore as now, and the
tree-spirit that saw it all was I myself."
Footnotes
126:1 No. 102, Paṇṇika-Jātaka, where recurs the second stanza.
Next: No. 218. Kūṭa-Vāṇija-Jātaka
p. 126
No. 217.
SEGGU-JĀTAKA.
"All the world's on pleasure bent," etc.--This story the Master told, while
dwelling at Jetavana, about a greengrocer who was a lay-brother.
The circumstances have been already given in the First Book 1. Here again the
Master asked him where he had been so long; and he replied, "My daughter, Sir,
is always smiling. After testing her, I gave her in marriage to a young
gentleman. As this had to be done, I had no opportunity of paying you a visit."
To this the Master answered, "Not now only is your daughter virtuous, but
virtuous she was in days of yore; and as you have tested her now, so you tested
her in those days." And at the man's request he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
tree-spirit.
This same pious greengrocer took it into his head to test his daughter. He led
her into the woods, [180] and seized her by the hand, making as though he had
conceived a passion for her. And as she cried out in woe, he addressed her in
the words of the first stanza:--
"All the world's on pleasure bent;
Ah, my baby innocent!
Now I've caught you, pray don't cry;
As the town does, so do I."
When she heard it, she answered, "Dear Father, I ant a maid, and I know not the
ways of sin:" and weeping she uttered the second stanza:--
"He that should keep me safe from all distress,
The same betrays me in my loneliness;
My father, who should be my sure defence,
Here in the forest offers violence."
And the greengrocer, after testing his daughter thus, took her home, and gave
her in marriage to a young man. Afterwards he passed away according to his
deeds.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended this discourse, he declared the Truths and identified
the Birth:--at the end of the Truths the greengrocer entered on the Fruit of the
First Path:--"In those days, father and daughter were the snore as now, and the
tree-spirit that saw it all was I myself."
Footnotes
126:1 No. 102, Paṇṇika-Jātaka, where recurs the second stanza.
Next: No. 218. Kūṭa-Vāṇija-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Maccha Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 216. Maccha-Jātaka
p. 125
No. 216.
MACCHA-JĀTAKA.
"’Tis not the fire," etc.---This story the Master told during a stay in
Jetavana, about one who hankered after a former wife. The Master asked this
Brother, "Is it true, Brother, what I hear, that you are lovesick?" "Yes, Sir."
"For whom?" "For my late wife." Then the Master said to him: "This wife,
Brother, has been the mischief to you. Long ago by her means you came near being
spitted and roasted for food, but wise men saved your life." Then he told a tale
of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was his
chaplain. Some fishermen drew out a Fish which had got caught in their net, and
cast it upon hot sand, saying, "We will cook it in the embers, and eat." So they
sharpened a spit. And the Fish fell a-weeping over his mate, and said these two
verses:
"’Tis not the fire that burns me, nor the spit that hurts me sore;
But the thought my mate may call me a faithless paramour.
"’Tis the flame of love that burns me, and fills my heart with pain;
Not death is the due of loving; O fishers, free me again!"
[179] At that moment the Bodhisatta approached the river bank; and hearing the
Fish's lament, he went up to the fishermen and made them set the Fish at
liberty.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master declared the Truths and identified the
Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the lovesick Brother reached the Fruit
of the First Path:--"The wife was in those days the fish's mate, the lovesick
Brother was the fish, and I myself was the chaplain."
Next: No. 217. Seggu-Jātaka
p. 125
No. 216.
MACCHA-JĀTAKA.
"’Tis not the fire," etc.---This story the Master told during a stay in
Jetavana, about one who hankered after a former wife. The Master asked this
Brother, "Is it true, Brother, what I hear, that you are lovesick?" "Yes, Sir."
"For whom?" "For my late wife." Then the Master said to him: "This wife,
Brother, has been the mischief to you. Long ago by her means you came near being
spitted and roasted for food, but wise men saved your life." Then he told a tale
of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was his
chaplain. Some fishermen drew out a Fish which had got caught in their net, and
cast it upon hot sand, saying, "We will cook it in the embers, and eat." So they
sharpened a spit. And the Fish fell a-weeping over his mate, and said these two
verses:
"’Tis not the fire that burns me, nor the spit that hurts me sore;
But the thought my mate may call me a faithless paramour.
"’Tis the flame of love that burns me, and fills my heart with pain;
Not death is the due of loving; O fishers, free me again!"
[179] At that moment the Bodhisatta approached the river bank; and hearing the
Fish's lament, he went up to the fishermen and made them set the Fish at
liberty.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master declared the Truths and identified the
Birth:--at the conclusion of the Truths the lovesick Brother reached the Fruit
of the First Path:--"The wife was in those days the fish's mate, the lovesick
Brother was the fish, and I myself was the chaplain."
Next: No. 217. Seggu-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Kacchapa Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 215. Kacchapa-Jātaka
p. 123
No. 215 1.
KACCHAPA-JĀTAKA.
"The Tortoise needs must speak," etc.--This is a story told by the Master while
staying in Jetavana, about Kokālika. The circumstances which gave rise to it
will be set forth under the Mahātakkāri Birth 2. Here again the Master said:
"This is not the only time, Brethren, that Kokālika has been ruined by talking;
it was the same before." And then he told the story as follows.
_____________________________
Once on a time Brahmadatta was king of Benares, and the Bodhisatta, being born
to one of the king's court, grew up, and became the king's adviser in all things
human and divine. But this king was very talkative; and when he talked there was
no chance for any other to get in a word. [176] And the Bodhisatta, wishing to
put a stop to his much talking, kept watching for an opportunity.
Now there dwelt a Tortoise in a certain pond in the region of Himalaya.
Two young wild Geese, searching for food, struck up an acquaintance with him;
and by and bye they grew close friends together. One day these two said to him:
"Friend Tortoise, we have a lovely home in Himalaya, on a plateau of Mount
Cittakūta, in a cave of gold! Will you come with us?"
"Why," said he, "how can I get there?"
"Oh, we will take you, if only you can keep your mouth shut, and say not a word
to any body."
"Yes, I can do that," says he; "take me along!"
So they made the Tortoise hold a stick between his teeth; and themselves taking
hold so of the two ends, they sprang up into the air.
The village children saw this, and exclaimed--"There are two geese carrying a
tortoise by a stick!"
(By this time the geese flying swiftly had arrived at the space above the palace
of the king, at Benares.) The Tortoise wanted to cry out--
p. 124
[paragraph continues] "Well, and if my friends do carry me, what is that to you,
you caitiffs?"--and he let go the stick from between his teeth, and falling into
the open courtyard he split in two. What an uproar there was! "A tortoise has
fallen in the courtyard, and broken in two!" they cried. The king, with the
Bodhisatta, and all his court, came up to the place, and seeing the tortoise
asked the Bodhisatta a question. "Wise Sir, what made this creature fall?'
"Now's my time!" thought he. "For a long while I have been wishing to admonish
the king, and I have gone about seeking my opportunity. No doubt the truth is
this: the tortoise and the geese became friendly; the geese must have meant to
carry him to Himalaya, and so made him hold a stick between his teeth, and then
lifted him into the air; then he must have heard some remark, and wanted to
reply; and not being able to keep his month shut he must have let himself go;
[177] and so he must have fallen from the sky and thus come by his death." So
thought he; and addressed the king: "O king, they that have too much tongue,
that set no limit to their speaking, ever come to such misfortune as this;" and
he uttered the following verses:--
"The Tortoise needs must speak aloud,
Although between his teeth
A stick he bit: yet, spite of it,
He spoke--and fell beneath.
"And now, O mighty master, mark it well.
See thou speak wisely, see thou speak in season.
To death the Tortoise fell:
He talked too much: that was the reason."
"He is speaking of me!" the king thought to himself; and asked the Bodhisatta if
it was so.
"Be it you, O great king, or be it another," replied he, "whosoever talks beyond
measure comes by some misery of this kind;" and so he made the thing manifest.
And thenceforward the king abstained from talking, and became a man of few
words.
_____________________________
[178] This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Kokālika was the
tortoise then, the two famous Elders were the two wild geese, Ānanda was the
king, and I was his wise adviser."
Footnotes
123:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, p. 41; Dhammapada, p. 418; cp. Benfey's
Pantschatantra, i. p. 239; Babrius, ed. Lewis, i. 122; Phaedrus, ed. Orelli, 55,
128; Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories, viii.; Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales, pp.
100 and 245.
123:2 Takkāriya-jātaka, No. 481.
Next: No. 216. Maccha-Jātaka
p. 123
No. 215 1.
KACCHAPA-JĀTAKA.
"The Tortoise needs must speak," etc.--This is a story told by the Master while
staying in Jetavana, about Kokālika. The circumstances which gave rise to it
will be set forth under the Mahātakkāri Birth 2. Here again the Master said:
"This is not the only time, Brethren, that Kokālika has been ruined by talking;
it was the same before." And then he told the story as follows.
_____________________________
Once on a time Brahmadatta was king of Benares, and the Bodhisatta, being born
to one of the king's court, grew up, and became the king's adviser in all things
human and divine. But this king was very talkative; and when he talked there was
no chance for any other to get in a word. [176] And the Bodhisatta, wishing to
put a stop to his much talking, kept watching for an opportunity.
Now there dwelt a Tortoise in a certain pond in the region of Himalaya.
Two young wild Geese, searching for food, struck up an acquaintance with him;
and by and bye they grew close friends together. One day these two said to him:
"Friend Tortoise, we have a lovely home in Himalaya, on a plateau of Mount
Cittakūta, in a cave of gold! Will you come with us?"
"Why," said he, "how can I get there?"
"Oh, we will take you, if only you can keep your mouth shut, and say not a word
to any body."
"Yes, I can do that," says he; "take me along!"
So they made the Tortoise hold a stick between his teeth; and themselves taking
hold so of the two ends, they sprang up into the air.
The village children saw this, and exclaimed--"There are two geese carrying a
tortoise by a stick!"
(By this time the geese flying swiftly had arrived at the space above the palace
of the king, at Benares.) The Tortoise wanted to cry out--
p. 124
[paragraph continues] "Well, and if my friends do carry me, what is that to you,
you caitiffs?"--and he let go the stick from between his teeth, and falling into
the open courtyard he split in two. What an uproar there was! "A tortoise has
fallen in the courtyard, and broken in two!" they cried. The king, with the
Bodhisatta, and all his court, came up to the place, and seeing the tortoise
asked the Bodhisatta a question. "Wise Sir, what made this creature fall?'
"Now's my time!" thought he. "For a long while I have been wishing to admonish
the king, and I have gone about seeking my opportunity. No doubt the truth is
this: the tortoise and the geese became friendly; the geese must have meant to
carry him to Himalaya, and so made him hold a stick between his teeth, and then
lifted him into the air; then he must have heard some remark, and wanted to
reply; and not being able to keep his month shut he must have let himself go;
[177] and so he must have fallen from the sky and thus come by his death." So
thought he; and addressed the king: "O king, they that have too much tongue,
that set no limit to their speaking, ever come to such misfortune as this;" and
he uttered the following verses:--
"The Tortoise needs must speak aloud,
Although between his teeth
A stick he bit: yet, spite of it,
He spoke--and fell beneath.
"And now, O mighty master, mark it well.
See thou speak wisely, see thou speak in season.
To death the Tortoise fell:
He talked too much: that was the reason."
"He is speaking of me!" the king thought to himself; and asked the Bodhisatta if
it was so.
"Be it you, O great king, or be it another," replied he, "whosoever talks beyond
measure comes by some misery of this kind;" and so he made the thing manifest.
And thenceforward the king abstained from talking, and became a man of few
words.
_____________________________
[178] This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Kokālika was the
tortoise then, the two famous Elders were the two wild geese, Ānanda was the
king, and I was his wise adviser."
Footnotes
123:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, p. 41; Dhammapada, p. 418; cp. Benfey's
Pantschatantra, i. p. 239; Babrius, ed. Lewis, i. 122; Phaedrus, ed. Orelli, 55,
128; Rhys Davids, Buddhist Birth Stories, viii.; Jacobs, Indian Fairy Tales, pp.
100 and 245.
123:2 Takkāriya-jātaka, No. 481.
Next: No. 216. Maccha-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Punna Nadi Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 214. Puṇṇa-Nadī-Jātaka
No. 214.
PUṆṆA-NADĪ-JĀTAKA.
"That which can drink," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at
Jetavana, about perfect wisdom.
On one occasion, the Brethren were gathered in the Hall of Truth, talking of the
Buddha's wisdom. "Friend, the Supreme Buddha's wisdom is great, and wide,
cutting, and quick, sharp, penetrating, and full of resource." The Master came
in, and asked what they talked of as they sat there together. They told him.
"Not now only," said he, "is the Buddha wise and resourceful; he was so in days
of yore." And then he told them a story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
the world as the son of the court chaplain. When he grew up, he studied at
Takkasilā; and at his father's death he received the office of chaplain, and he
was the king's counsellor in things human and divine.
Afterwards the king opened his ear to breedbates, and in anger bade the
Bodhisatta dwell before his face no more, and sent him away from Benares. So he
took his wife and family with him, and abode in a certain village of Kāsi.
Afterward the king remembered his goodness, and said to himself:
p. 122
"It is not meet that I should send a messenger to fetch my teacher. I will
compose a verse of poetry, [174] and write it upon a leaf; I will cause crow's
flesh to be cooked; and after I have tied up letter and meat in a white cloth, I
will seal it with the king's seal, and send it to him. If he is wise, when he
has read the letter and seen that it is crow's-meat, he will come; if not, then
he will not come." And so he wrote on the leaf this stanza:
"That which can drink when rivers are in flood;
That which the corn will cover out of sight;
That which forebodes a traveller on the road--
O wise one, eat! my riddle read aright 1."
This verse did the king write upon a leaf, and sent it to the Bodhisatta. He
read the letter, and thinking--"The king wishes to see me"--he repeated the
second verse:--[175]
"The king does not forget to send me crow:
Geese, herons, peacocks,--other birds there are:
If he gives one, he'll give the rest, I know;
If he sent none at all ’twere worser far 2."
Then he caused his vehicle to be made ready, and went, and looked upon the king.
And the king, being pleased, set him again in the place of the king's chaplain.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Ānanda was the king in
those days, and I was his chaplain."
Footnotes
121:1 In commenting upon this line, the Scholiast says: "And those who at that
time spoke the truth, blaming king Bharu for taking a bribe, found standing room
upon a thousand islands which are yet to he seen to-day about the island of
Nāḷikera."
122:1 Kākapeyya, both in Skr. and in Pali, is proverbial for rivers at the
flood. For Skr. see Pāṇini, 2. 1. 33, where some comm. say 'deep,' some
'shallow.' The scholiast here says: "They call rivers K. when a crow standing on
the bank can stretch out its neck and drink." Buddhaghosha, quoted by Rh. D. in
note to Buddhist Suttas, S. B. E., p. 178, says the same.--Kākaguyha is corn
tall enough to hide a crow; see Pāṇ. 3. 2. 5 and the Kāçikā's comment, with the
scholiast's note here.--In the dictionary of Vacaspati, vol. 2, p. 1846, col. 1,
it is said "When the crow cries Khare Khare, a traveller is coming." The schol.
here says: "If people wish to know whether an absent friend is coming back, they
say--Caw, crow, if so-and-so is coming! and if the crows caw, they know that he
will come."--This verse riddles on these three proverbs and beliefs. [For part
of this note I am indebted to Prof. Cowell.]
122:2 I am not sure of the meaning of these obscure lines, but this is the best
I can make of it. The schol. says "When he gets crow's flesh he remembers to
send me some; surely he will remember when he gets geese, etc." The
phrase--"Geese, herons, peacocks," is a reminiscence of the verse quoted in No.
202, above.
Next: No. 215. Kacchapa-Jātaka
No. 214.
PUṆṆA-NADĪ-JĀTAKA.
"That which can drink," etc.--This story the Master told while staying at
Jetavana, about perfect wisdom.
On one occasion, the Brethren were gathered in the Hall of Truth, talking of the
Buddha's wisdom. "Friend, the Supreme Buddha's wisdom is great, and wide,
cutting, and quick, sharp, penetrating, and full of resource." The Master came
in, and asked what they talked of as they sat there together. They told him.
"Not now only," said he, "is the Buddha wise and resourceful; he was so in days
of yore." And then he told them a story.
_____________________________
Once on a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta came into
the world as the son of the court chaplain. When he grew up, he studied at
Takkasilā; and at his father's death he received the office of chaplain, and he
was the king's counsellor in things human and divine.
Afterwards the king opened his ear to breedbates, and in anger bade the
Bodhisatta dwell before his face no more, and sent him away from Benares. So he
took his wife and family with him, and abode in a certain village of Kāsi.
Afterward the king remembered his goodness, and said to himself:
p. 122
"It is not meet that I should send a messenger to fetch my teacher. I will
compose a verse of poetry, [174] and write it upon a leaf; I will cause crow's
flesh to be cooked; and after I have tied up letter and meat in a white cloth, I
will seal it with the king's seal, and send it to him. If he is wise, when he
has read the letter and seen that it is crow's-meat, he will come; if not, then
he will not come." And so he wrote on the leaf this stanza:
"That which can drink when rivers are in flood;
That which the corn will cover out of sight;
That which forebodes a traveller on the road--
O wise one, eat! my riddle read aright 1."
This verse did the king write upon a leaf, and sent it to the Bodhisatta. He
read the letter, and thinking--"The king wishes to see me"--he repeated the
second verse:--[175]
"The king does not forget to send me crow:
Geese, herons, peacocks,--other birds there are:
If he gives one, he'll give the rest, I know;
If he sent none at all ’twere worser far 2."
Then he caused his vehicle to be made ready, and went, and looked upon the king.
And the king, being pleased, set him again in the place of the king's chaplain.
_____________________________
This discourse ended, the Master identified the Birth:--"Ānanda was the king in
those days, and I was his chaplain."
Footnotes
121:1 In commenting upon this line, the Scholiast says: "And those who at that
time spoke the truth, blaming king Bharu for taking a bribe, found standing room
upon a thousand islands which are yet to he seen to-day about the island of
Nāḷikera."
122:1 Kākapeyya, both in Skr. and in Pali, is proverbial for rivers at the
flood. For Skr. see Pāṇini, 2. 1. 33, where some comm. say 'deep,' some
'shallow.' The scholiast here says: "They call rivers K. when a crow standing on
the bank can stretch out its neck and drink." Buddhaghosha, quoted by Rh. D. in
note to Buddhist Suttas, S. B. E., p. 178, says the same.--Kākaguyha is corn
tall enough to hide a crow; see Pāṇ. 3. 2. 5 and the Kāçikā's comment, with the
scholiast's note here.--In the dictionary of Vacaspati, vol. 2, p. 1846, col. 1,
it is said "When the crow cries Khare Khare, a traveller is coming." The schol.
here says: "If people wish to know whether an absent friend is coming back, they
say--Caw, crow, if so-and-so is coming! and if the crows caw, they know that he
will come."--This verse riddles on these three proverbs and beliefs. [For part
of this note I am indebted to Prof. Cowell.]
122:2 I am not sure of the meaning of these obscure lines, but this is the best
I can make of it. The schol. says "When he gets crow's flesh he remembers to
send me some; surely he will remember when he gets geese, etc." The
phrase--"Geese, herons, peacocks," is a reminiscence of the verse quoted in No.
202, above.
Next: No. 215. Kacchapa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Bharu Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 213. Bharu-Jātaka
No. 213.
BHARU-JĀTAKA.
"The king of Bharu," etc. This story the Master told while staying at Jetavana,
about the king of Kosala.
Now we read that magnificent presents were made to the Blessed One and his
company, and they were held in great respect, as it is written: 'At that time
the Blessed One was honoured and revered, respected, reverenced, highly
esteemed, and received rich presents--robes, food, lodgement, drugs and
medicines, and provisions; and the Brotherhood was honoured, etc. (as before);
but the pilgrims of heterodox schools were not honoured, etc. (as before) 1."
Well, the sectaries, finding that honour and gifts diminished, convened a secret
meeting for deliberation. "Since the appearance of the Priest Gotama," they
said, [170] "honour and gifts come no more to us, but he has got the best of
both. What can be the reason of his good fortune?" Then one of them spoke as
follows. "Priest Gotama has the best and chiefest place in all India to live in,
and that is the reason of his success." Then the others said, "If this is the
reason, we will make a rival settlement above Jetavana, and then we shall
receive presents." This was the conclusion they came to.
p. 119
"But," thought they, "if we make our settlement unknown to the king, the
Brethren will prevent us. If he accepts a present, he will not be disinclined to
break up their settlement. So we had best bribe him to give us a place for
ours."
So by the intervention of his courtiers, they offered an hundred thousand pieces
to the king, with this message; "Great King, we want to make a rival settlement
in Jetavana. If the Brethren tell you they won't permit it, please do not give
them any answer." To this the king agreed, because he wanted the bribe.
After thus conciliating the king, the schismatics got an architect and put the
work in hand. There was a good deal of noise about it.
"What is all this great noise and tumult, Ānanda?" the Master asked. "The
noise," said he, "is some sectaries who are having a new settlement built."
"That is not a fit place," he rejoined, "for them to settle. These sectaries are
fond of noise; there's no living with them." Then he called the Brotherhood
together, and bade them go inform the king, and have the building put a stop to.
The Brethren went and stood by the palace door. The king, as soon as he heard of
their coming, knew they must be come about stopping the new settlement. But he
had been bribed, and so he ordered his attendants to say the king was not at
home. The Brethren went back and told the Master. The Master guessed that a
bribe had been given, and sent his two chief disciples 1. But the king, as soon
as he heard of their coming, gave the same order as before; and they too
returned and told the Master. The Master said, "Doubtless the king is not able
to stay at home to-day; he must be out."
Next forenoon, he dressed himself, took his bowl and robe, and with five hundred
brethren walked to the door of the palace. The king heard them come; he
descended from the upper story, and took from the Buddha his alms-bowl. Then he
gave rice and gruel to him and his followers, and with a salutation sat down on
one side.
The Master began an exposition for the king's behoof, in these words. "Great
King, other kings in by-gone days have taken bribes, and then by making virtuous
people quarrel together have been dispossessed of their kingdom, and been
utterly destroyed." And then, at his request, the Master told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[171] Once upon a time, king Bharu was reigning over the kingdom of Bharu. At
the same time the Bodhisatta was Teacher of a troop of monks. He was an ascetic
who had acquired the Five Supernatural Faculties and the Eight Attainments; and
he dwelt a long time in the region of Himalaya.
He came down from Himalaya to buy salt and seasoning, followed by five hundred
ascetics; and they came by stages to the city of Bharu. He went a-begging
through the city; and then coming forth from it, he sat down by the northern
gate, at the root of a banyan tree all covered with twigs and branches. There he
made a meal, and there he took up his abode.
Now when that band of hermits had dwelt there by the space of half a moon, there
came another Teacher with another five hundred, who went seeking alms about the
city, and then came out and sat beneath just such
p. 120
another banyan tree by the south gate, and ate, and dwelt there. And the two
bands abode there so long as they would, and then returned again to Himalaya.
When they had gone, the tree by the south gate withered away. Next time, they
who had dwelt under it came first, and perceiving that their tree was withered,
they first went on their rounds throughout the city, seeking alms, and then
passing out by the northern gate, they ate and abode under the banyan tree that
was by that gate. And the other band, coming afterwards, went their rounds in
the city, and then made ready their meal and would have dwelt by their own tree.
"This is not your tree, ’tis ours!" they cried; and they began to quarrel about
the tree. The quarrel waxed great: these said--"Take not the place where we
dwelt aforetime!" and those--"This time are we first come; do not you take it!"
So crying aloud each that they were the owners of it, they all went to the
king's palace.
The king ordained that they who had first dwelt there should hold it. [172] Then
the others thought--"We will not allow ourselves to say that we have been beaten
by these!" They looked about then with divine vision 1, and observing the body
of a chariot fit for an emperor to use, they took it and offered it as a gift to
the king, begging him to give them too possession of the tree. He took their
gift, and ordained that both should dwell under the tree; and so they were there
all masters together. Then the other hermits fetched the jewelled wheels of the
same chariot, and offered them to the king, praying him, "O mighty king, make
its to possess the tree alone!" And the king did so. Then the ascetics repented,
and said: "To think that we, who have overcome the love of riches and the lust
of the flesh, and have renounced the world, should fall to quarrelling by reason
of a tree, and offer bribes for it! This is no seemly thing." And they went away
in all haste till they came to Himalaya. And all the spirits that dwelt in the
realm of Bharu with one miner were angry with the king, and they brought up the
sea, and for the space of three hundred leagues they made the kingdom of Bharu
as though it were not. And so for the sake of the king of Bharu alone, all the
inhabitants of the kingdom perished thus.
_____________________________
When the Teacher had ended this tale, in his perfect wisdom, he uttered the
following stanzas:--
"The king of Bharu, as old stories say,
Made holy hermits quarrel on a day:
For the which sin it fell that he fell dead,
And with him all his kingdom perished.
p. 121
"Wherefore the wise do not approve at all
When that desire into the heart doth fall.
He that is free from guile, whose heart is pure,
All that he says is ever true and sure 1."
[173] When the Master had ended this story, he added, "Great King, one should
not be under the power of desire. Two religious persons ought not to quarrel
together." Then he identified the Birth:--"In those days, I was the leader of
the sages."
When the king had entertained the Buddha, and he had departed, the king sent
some men and had the rival settlement destroyed, and the sectaries became
homeless.
Footnotes
118:1 This appears to be a regular formula; the Sanskrit equivalent occurs in
Divyāvadāna, p. 91.
119:1 Sāriputta and Moggallāna.
120:1 One of the Abhiññās or Supernatural Faculties; see above.
Next: No. 214. Puṇṇa-Nadī-Jātaka
No. 213.
BHARU-JĀTAKA.
"The king of Bharu," etc. This story the Master told while staying at Jetavana,
about the king of Kosala.
Now we read that magnificent presents were made to the Blessed One and his
company, and they were held in great respect, as it is written: 'At that time
the Blessed One was honoured and revered, respected, reverenced, highly
esteemed, and received rich presents--robes, food, lodgement, drugs and
medicines, and provisions; and the Brotherhood was honoured, etc. (as before);
but the pilgrims of heterodox schools were not honoured, etc. (as before) 1."
Well, the sectaries, finding that honour and gifts diminished, convened a secret
meeting for deliberation. "Since the appearance of the Priest Gotama," they
said, [170] "honour and gifts come no more to us, but he has got the best of
both. What can be the reason of his good fortune?" Then one of them spoke as
follows. "Priest Gotama has the best and chiefest place in all India to live in,
and that is the reason of his success." Then the others said, "If this is the
reason, we will make a rival settlement above Jetavana, and then we shall
receive presents." This was the conclusion they came to.
p. 119
"But," thought they, "if we make our settlement unknown to the king, the
Brethren will prevent us. If he accepts a present, he will not be disinclined to
break up their settlement. So we had best bribe him to give us a place for
ours."
So by the intervention of his courtiers, they offered an hundred thousand pieces
to the king, with this message; "Great King, we want to make a rival settlement
in Jetavana. If the Brethren tell you they won't permit it, please do not give
them any answer." To this the king agreed, because he wanted the bribe.
After thus conciliating the king, the schismatics got an architect and put the
work in hand. There was a good deal of noise about it.
"What is all this great noise and tumult, Ānanda?" the Master asked. "The
noise," said he, "is some sectaries who are having a new settlement built."
"That is not a fit place," he rejoined, "for them to settle. These sectaries are
fond of noise; there's no living with them." Then he called the Brotherhood
together, and bade them go inform the king, and have the building put a stop to.
The Brethren went and stood by the palace door. The king, as soon as he heard of
their coming, knew they must be come about stopping the new settlement. But he
had been bribed, and so he ordered his attendants to say the king was not at
home. The Brethren went back and told the Master. The Master guessed that a
bribe had been given, and sent his two chief disciples 1. But the king, as soon
as he heard of their coming, gave the same order as before; and they too
returned and told the Master. The Master said, "Doubtless the king is not able
to stay at home to-day; he must be out."
Next forenoon, he dressed himself, took his bowl and robe, and with five hundred
brethren walked to the door of the palace. The king heard them come; he
descended from the upper story, and took from the Buddha his alms-bowl. Then he
gave rice and gruel to him and his followers, and with a salutation sat down on
one side.
The Master began an exposition for the king's behoof, in these words. "Great
King, other kings in by-gone days have taken bribes, and then by making virtuous
people quarrel together have been dispossessed of their kingdom, and been
utterly destroyed." And then, at his request, the Master told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
[171] Once upon a time, king Bharu was reigning over the kingdom of Bharu. At
the same time the Bodhisatta was Teacher of a troop of monks. He was an ascetic
who had acquired the Five Supernatural Faculties and the Eight Attainments; and
he dwelt a long time in the region of Himalaya.
He came down from Himalaya to buy salt and seasoning, followed by five hundred
ascetics; and they came by stages to the city of Bharu. He went a-begging
through the city; and then coming forth from it, he sat down by the northern
gate, at the root of a banyan tree all covered with twigs and branches. There he
made a meal, and there he took up his abode.
Now when that band of hermits had dwelt there by the space of half a moon, there
came another Teacher with another five hundred, who went seeking alms about the
city, and then came out and sat beneath just such
p. 120
another banyan tree by the south gate, and ate, and dwelt there. And the two
bands abode there so long as they would, and then returned again to Himalaya.
When they had gone, the tree by the south gate withered away. Next time, they
who had dwelt under it came first, and perceiving that their tree was withered,
they first went on their rounds throughout the city, seeking alms, and then
passing out by the northern gate, they ate and abode under the banyan tree that
was by that gate. And the other band, coming afterwards, went their rounds in
the city, and then made ready their meal and would have dwelt by their own tree.
"This is not your tree, ’tis ours!" they cried; and they began to quarrel about
the tree. The quarrel waxed great: these said--"Take not the place where we
dwelt aforetime!" and those--"This time are we first come; do not you take it!"
So crying aloud each that they were the owners of it, they all went to the
king's palace.
The king ordained that they who had first dwelt there should hold it. [172] Then
the others thought--"We will not allow ourselves to say that we have been beaten
by these!" They looked about then with divine vision 1, and observing the body
of a chariot fit for an emperor to use, they took it and offered it as a gift to
the king, begging him to give them too possession of the tree. He took their
gift, and ordained that both should dwell under the tree; and so they were there
all masters together. Then the other hermits fetched the jewelled wheels of the
same chariot, and offered them to the king, praying him, "O mighty king, make
its to possess the tree alone!" And the king did so. Then the ascetics repented,
and said: "To think that we, who have overcome the love of riches and the lust
of the flesh, and have renounced the world, should fall to quarrelling by reason
of a tree, and offer bribes for it! This is no seemly thing." And they went away
in all haste till they came to Himalaya. And all the spirits that dwelt in the
realm of Bharu with one miner were angry with the king, and they brought up the
sea, and for the space of three hundred leagues they made the kingdom of Bharu
as though it were not. And so for the sake of the king of Bharu alone, all the
inhabitants of the kingdom perished thus.
_____________________________
When the Teacher had ended this tale, in his perfect wisdom, he uttered the
following stanzas:--
"The king of Bharu, as old stories say,
Made holy hermits quarrel on a day:
For the which sin it fell that he fell dead,
And with him all his kingdom perished.
p. 121
"Wherefore the wise do not approve at all
When that desire into the heart doth fall.
He that is free from guile, whose heart is pure,
All that he says is ever true and sure 1."
[173] When the Master had ended this story, he added, "Great King, one should
not be under the power of desire. Two religious persons ought not to quarrel
together." Then he identified the Birth:--"In those days, I was the leader of
the sages."
When the king had entertained the Buddha, and he had departed, the king sent
some men and had the rival settlement destroyed, and the sectaries became
homeless.
Footnotes
118:1 This appears to be a regular formula; the Sanskrit equivalent occurs in
Divyāvadāna, p. 91.
119:1 Sāriputta and Moggallāna.
120:1 One of the Abhiññās or Supernatural Faculties; see above.
Next: No. 214. Puṇṇa-Nadī-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Ucchittha-Bhatta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 212. Ucchiṭṭha-Bhatta-Jātaka
p. 117
No. 212.
UCCHIṬṬHA-BHATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Hot at top," etc. This is a story told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
one who hankered after a lost wife. The Brother in question was asked by the
Master if he really was lovesick. Yes, he said, so he was. "For whom?" was the
next question. "For my late wife." "Brother," the Master said, "this same woman
in former days was wicked, and made you eat the leavings of her paramour." Then
he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born as one of a family of poor acrobats, that lived by begging. So when he grew
up, he was needy and squalid, and by begging he lived.
There was at the time, in a certain village of Kāsi, a brahmin whose wife was
bad and wicked, and did wrong. [168] And it befel that the husband went abroad
one day upon some matter, and her lover watching his time went to visit the
house. After she had received him, he said, "I will eat a bit before I go." So
she made ready the food, and served up rice hot with sauce and curry, and gave
it him, bidding him eat: she herself stood at the door, watching for the
brahmin's coming. And while the lover was eating, the Bodhisatta stood waiting
for a morsel.
At that moment the brahmin set his face for home. And his wife saw him drawing
nigh, and ran in quickly--"Up, my man is coming!" and she made her lover go down
into the store-room. The husband came in; she gave him a seat, and water for
washing the hands; and upon the cold rice that was left by the other she turned
out some hot rice, and set it before him. He put his hand into the rice, and
felt that it was hot above and cold below. "This must be some one else's
leavings," thought he; and so he asked the woman about it in the words of the
first stanza:
"Hot at top, and cold at bottom, not alike it seems to be:
I would ask you for the reason: come, my lady, answer me!"
Again and again he asked, but she, fearing lest her deed should be discovered,
held her peace, Then a thought came into our tumbler's mind. "The man down in
the store-room must be a lover, and this is the master of the house: the wife
says nothing, for fear that her deed be made manifest. Soho! I will declare the
whole matter, and show the brahmin that a man is hidden in his larder!" [169]
And he told him the whole
p. 118
matter: how that when he had gone out from his house, another had come in, and
had done evil; how he had eaten the first rice, and the wife had stood by the
door to watch the road; and how the other man had been hidden in the store-room.
And in so saying, he repeated the second stanza:
"I am a tumbler, Sir: I came on begging here intent;
He that you seek is hiding in the store-room, where he went!"
By his top-knot he haled the man out of the store-room, and bade him take care
not to do the like again; and then he went away. The brahmin rebuked and beat
them both, and gave them such a lesson that they were not likely to do the same
again. Afterwards he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended his 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 then the brahmin's lady; you, the
lovesick Brother, were the brahmin himself; and I was the tumbler."
Next: No. 213. Bharu-Jātaka
p. 117
No. 212.
UCCHIṬṬHA-BHATTA-JĀTAKA.
"Hot at top," etc. This is a story told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
one who hankered after a lost wife. The Brother in question was asked by the
Master if he really was lovesick. Yes, he said, so he was. "For whom?" was the
next question. "For my late wife." "Brother," the Master said, "this same woman
in former days was wicked, and made you eat the leavings of her paramour." Then
he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once upon a time, while Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was
born as one of a family of poor acrobats, that lived by begging. So when he grew
up, he was needy and squalid, and by begging he lived.
There was at the time, in a certain village of Kāsi, a brahmin whose wife was
bad and wicked, and did wrong. [168] And it befel that the husband went abroad
one day upon some matter, and her lover watching his time went to visit the
house. After she had received him, he said, "I will eat a bit before I go." So
she made ready the food, and served up rice hot with sauce and curry, and gave
it him, bidding him eat: she herself stood at the door, watching for the
brahmin's coming. And while the lover was eating, the Bodhisatta stood waiting
for a morsel.
At that moment the brahmin set his face for home. And his wife saw him drawing
nigh, and ran in quickly--"Up, my man is coming!" and she made her lover go down
into the store-room. The husband came in; she gave him a seat, and water for
washing the hands; and upon the cold rice that was left by the other she turned
out some hot rice, and set it before him. He put his hand into the rice, and
felt that it was hot above and cold below. "This must be some one else's
leavings," thought he; and so he asked the woman about it in the words of the
first stanza:
"Hot at top, and cold at bottom, not alike it seems to be:
I would ask you for the reason: come, my lady, answer me!"
Again and again he asked, but she, fearing lest her deed should be discovered,
held her peace, Then a thought came into our tumbler's mind. "The man down in
the store-room must be a lover, and this is the master of the house: the wife
says nothing, for fear that her deed be made manifest. Soho! I will declare the
whole matter, and show the brahmin that a man is hidden in his larder!" [169]
And he told him the whole
p. 118
matter: how that when he had gone out from his house, another had come in, and
had done evil; how he had eaten the first rice, and the wife had stood by the
door to watch the road; and how the other man had been hidden in the store-room.
And in so saying, he repeated the second stanza:
"I am a tumbler, Sir: I came on begging here intent;
He that you seek is hiding in the store-room, where he went!"
By his top-knot he haled the man out of the store-room, and bade him take care
not to do the like again; and then he went away. The brahmin rebuked and beat
them both, and gave them such a lesson that they were not likely to do the same
again. Afterwards he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
When the Master had ended his 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 then the brahmin's lady; you, the
lovesick Brother, were the brahmin himself; and I was the tumbler."
Next: No. 213. Bharu-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Dukanipata - Somadatta Jataka
Jataka Vol. II: Book II. Dukanipāta: No. 211. Somadatta-Jātaka
p. 115
No. 211 1.
SOMADATTA-JĀTAKA.
"All the year long never ceasing," etc.--This story the Master told while
dwelling at Jetavana, about Elder Lāḷudāyī, or Udāyī the Simpleton.
This man, we learn, was unable to get out a single sound in the presence of two
or three people. He was so very nervous, that he said one thing when he meant
another. It happened that the Brethren were speaking of this as they sat
together in the Hall of Truth. [165] The Master came in, and asked what they
were talking of as they sat there together. They told him. He answered,
"Brethren, this is not the first time that Lāḷudāyī has been a very nervous man.
It was just the same before." And he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once on a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a certain brahmin family in the kingdom of Kāsi. When he came of age, he
went to study at Takkasilā. On returning he found his family poor; and he bade
his parents farewell and set out to Benares, saying to himself, "I will set up
my fallen family again!"
At Benares he became the king's attendant; and he grew very dear to the king and
became a favourite.
Now his father lived by ploughing the land, hut he had only one pair of oxen;
and one of them died. He came before the Bodhisatta, and said to him, "Son, one
of my oxen is dead, and the ploughing does not go on. Ask the king to give you
one ox!"
"No, Father," answered he, "I have but just now seen the king; I ought not to
ask him for oxen now:--you ask him."
"My son," said his father, "you do not know how bashful I am. If there are two
or three people present I cannot get a word out. If I go to ask the king for an
ox, I shall end by giving him this one!"
"Father," said the Bodhisatta, "what must be, must be. I cannot ask the king;
but I will train you to do it." So he led his father to a cemetery where there
were clumps of sweet grass; and tying up tufts of it, he scattered them here and
there, and named them one by one, pointing them out to his father: "That is the
King, that is the Viceroy, this is the Chief Captain. Now, Father, when you come
before the king, you must first say--'Long live the king!' and then repeat this
verse, to ask for an ox;" and this is the verse he taught him:
"I had two oxen to my plough, with which my work was done,
But one is dead! O mighty prince, please give me another one!"
p. 116
[166] For the space of a whole year the man learnt this couplet; and then he
said to his son--"Dear Somadatta, I have learnt the lines! Now I can say it
before any man! Take me to the king."
So the Bodhisatta, taking a suitable present, led his father into the king's
presence. "Long live the king!" cried the brahmin, offering his present.
"Who is this brahmin, Somadatta?" the king asked.
"Great king, it is my father," he answered.
"Why has he come here?" asked the king. Then the brahmin repeated his couplet,
to ask for the ox:--
"I had two oxen to my plough, with which my work was done,
But one is dead! O mighty prince, please take the other one!"
The king saw that there was some mistake. "Somadatta," said he, smiling, "you
have plenty of oxen at home, I suppose?"
"If so, great king, they are your gift!"
At this answer the king was pleased. He gave the man, for a brahmin's offering,
sixteen oxen, with fine caparison, and a village to live in, and sent him away
with great honour. The brahmin ascended a car drawn by Sindh horses, pure white,
and went to his dwelling in great pomp.
As the Bodhisatta sat beside his father in the chariot, said he, "Father, I
taught you the whole year long, and yet when the moment came you gave your ox to
the king!" and he uttered the first stanza:--
"All the year long never ceasing with unwearied diligence
Where the sweet grass grows in clusters day by day he practised it:
When he came amid the courtiers all at once he changed the sense;
Practice truly nought availeth if a man has little wit."
[167] When he heard this, the brahmin uttered the second stanza:
"He that asks, dear Somadatta, takes his chance between the two--
May get more, or may get nothing: when you ask, ’tis ever so."
_____________________________
When the Master by this story had shown how Simpleton Udāyī had been just as
bashful before as he was then, he identified the Birth:--" Lāḷudāyī was the
father of Somadatta, and I was Somadatta myself."
Footnotes
115:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, p. 31; Comm. on Dhammapada verse 152 (p. 317 of
F.'s edition).
Next: No. 212. Ucchiṭṭha-Bhatta-Jātaka
p. 115
No. 211 1.
SOMADATTA-JĀTAKA.
"All the year long never ceasing," etc.--This story the Master told while
dwelling at Jetavana, about Elder Lāḷudāyī, or Udāyī the Simpleton.
This man, we learn, was unable to get out a single sound in the presence of two
or three people. He was so very nervous, that he said one thing when he meant
another. It happened that the Brethren were speaking of this as they sat
together in the Hall of Truth. [165] The Master came in, and asked what they
were talking of as they sat there together. They told him. He answered,
"Brethren, this is not the first time that Lāḷudāyī has been a very nervous man.
It was just the same before." And he told an old-world tale.
_____________________________
Once on a time, while Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a certain brahmin family in the kingdom of Kāsi. When he came of age, he
went to study at Takkasilā. On returning he found his family poor; and he bade
his parents farewell and set out to Benares, saying to himself, "I will set up
my fallen family again!"
At Benares he became the king's attendant; and he grew very dear to the king and
became a favourite.
Now his father lived by ploughing the land, hut he had only one pair of oxen;
and one of them died. He came before the Bodhisatta, and said to him, "Son, one
of my oxen is dead, and the ploughing does not go on. Ask the king to give you
one ox!"
"No, Father," answered he, "I have but just now seen the king; I ought not to
ask him for oxen now:--you ask him."
"My son," said his father, "you do not know how bashful I am. If there are two
or three people present I cannot get a word out. If I go to ask the king for an
ox, I shall end by giving him this one!"
"Father," said the Bodhisatta, "what must be, must be. I cannot ask the king;
but I will train you to do it." So he led his father to a cemetery where there
were clumps of sweet grass; and tying up tufts of it, he scattered them here and
there, and named them one by one, pointing them out to his father: "That is the
King, that is the Viceroy, this is the Chief Captain. Now, Father, when you come
before the king, you must first say--'Long live the king!' and then repeat this
verse, to ask for an ox;" and this is the verse he taught him:
"I had two oxen to my plough, with which my work was done,
But one is dead! O mighty prince, please give me another one!"
p. 116
[166] For the space of a whole year the man learnt this couplet; and then he
said to his son--"Dear Somadatta, I have learnt the lines! Now I can say it
before any man! Take me to the king."
So the Bodhisatta, taking a suitable present, led his father into the king's
presence. "Long live the king!" cried the brahmin, offering his present.
"Who is this brahmin, Somadatta?" the king asked.
"Great king, it is my father," he answered.
"Why has he come here?" asked the king. Then the brahmin repeated his couplet,
to ask for the ox:--
"I had two oxen to my plough, with which my work was done,
But one is dead! O mighty prince, please take the other one!"
The king saw that there was some mistake. "Somadatta," said he, smiling, "you
have plenty of oxen at home, I suppose?"
"If so, great king, they are your gift!"
At this answer the king was pleased. He gave the man, for a brahmin's offering,
sixteen oxen, with fine caparison, and a village to live in, and sent him away
with great honour. The brahmin ascended a car drawn by Sindh horses, pure white,
and went to his dwelling in great pomp.
As the Bodhisatta sat beside his father in the chariot, said he, "Father, I
taught you the whole year long, and yet when the moment came you gave your ox to
the king!" and he uttered the first stanza:--
"All the year long never ceasing with unwearied diligence
Where the sweet grass grows in clusters day by day he practised it:
When he came amid the courtiers all at once he changed the sense;
Practice truly nought availeth if a man has little wit."
[167] When he heard this, the brahmin uttered the second stanza:
"He that asks, dear Somadatta, takes his chance between the two--
May get more, or may get nothing: when you ask, ’tis ever so."
_____________________________
When the Master by this story had shown how Simpleton Udāyī had been just as
bashful before as he was then, he identified the Birth:--" Lāḷudāyī was the
father of Somadatta, and I was Somadatta myself."
Footnotes
115:1 Fausbøll, Five Jātakas, p. 31; Comm. on Dhammapada verse 152 (p. 317 of
F.'s edition).
Next: No. 212. Ucchiṭṭha-Bhatta-Jātaka
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