Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 129. Aggika-Jātaka
p. 283
No. 129.
AGGIKA-JĀTAKA.
"’Twas greed."..Ṭhis story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
another hypocrite.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was King
of the Rats and dwelt in the forest. Now a fire broke out in the forest, and a
jackal who could not run away put his head against a tree [462] and let the
flames sweep by him. The fire singed the hair off his body everywhere, and left
him perfectly bald, except for a tuft like a scalp-knot 1 where the crown of his
head was pressed against the tree. Drinking one day in a rocky pool, he caught
sight of this top-knot reflected in the water. "At last I've got wherewithal to
go to market," thought he. Coming in the course of his wanderings in the forest
to the rats' cave, he said to himself, "I'll hoodwink those rats and devour
them;" and with this intent he took up his stand hard by, just as in the
foregoing story.
On his way out in quest of food, the Bodhisatta observed the jackal and,
crediting the beast with virtue and goodness, came to him and asked what his
name was.
"Bhāradvāja 2, Votary of the Fire-God."
"Why have you come here?"
"In order to guard you and yours."
"What will you do to guard us?"
"I know how to count on my fingers, and will count your numbers both morning and
evening, so as to be sure that as many came home at night, as went out in the
morning. That's how I'll guard you."
"Then stay, uncle, and watch over us."
And accordingly, as the rats were starting in the morning he set about counting
them "One, two, three;" and so again when they came back at night. And every
time he counted them, he seized and ate the hindmost. Everything came to pass as
in the foregoing story, except that here the King of the Rats turned and said to
the jackal, "It is not sanctity,
p. 284
[paragraph continues] Bhāradvāja, Votary of the Fire-God, but gluttony that has
decked your crown with that top-knot." So saying, he uttered this stanza:--
’Twas greed, not virtue, furnished you this crest.
Our dwindling numbers fail to work out right;
We've had enough, Fire-votary, of you.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
the jackal of those days, and I the King of the Rats."
Footnotes
283:1 The Buddhist 'Brother' shaves his crown, except for a tuft of hair on the
top, which is the analogue of the tonsure of Roman Catholic priests.
283:2 Bhāradvāja was the name of a clan of great Rishis, or religious teachers,
to whom the sixth book of the Rigveda is ascribed.
Next: No. 130. Kosiya-Jātaka
Showing posts with label Ekanipata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ekanipata. Show all posts
Monday, May 16, 2011
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Bilara Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 128. Biḷāra-Jātaka
[460] No. 128.
BIḶĀRA-JĀTAKA.
"Where saintliness."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a hypocrite. When the Brother's hypocrisy was reported to him, the Master said,
"This is not the first time he has shewn himself a hypocrite; he was just the
sane in times gone by." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
rat, perfect in wisdom, and as big as a young boar.
He had his dwelling in the forest and many hundreds of other rats owned his
sway.
p. 282
Now there was a roving jackal who espied this troop of rats and fell to scheming
how to beguile and eat them. And he took up his stand near their home with his
face to the sun, snuffing up the wind, and standing on one leg. Seeing this when
out on his road in quest of food, the Bodhisatta conceived the jackal to be a
saintly being, and went up and asked his name.
"'Godly' is my name," said the jackal. "Why do you stand only on one leg?"
"Because if I stood on all four at once, the earth could not bear my weight.
That is why I stand on one leg only." "And why do you keep your mouth open?" "To
take the air. I live on air; it is my only food." "And why do you face the sun?"
"To worship him." "What uprightness!" thought the Bodhisatta, and thenceforward
he made a point of going, attended by the other rats, to pay his respects
morning and evening to the saintly jackal. And when the rats were leaving, the
jackal seized and devoured the hindermost one of them, wiped his lips, and
looked as though nothing had happened. In consequence of this the rats grew
fewer and fewer, till they noticed the gaps in their ranks, and wondering why
this was so, asked the Bodhisatta the reason. He could not make it out, but
suspecting the jackal, [461] resolved to put him to the test. So next day he let
the other rats go out first and himself brought up the rear. The jackal made a
spring on the Bodhisatta who, seeing him coming, faced round and cried, "So this
is your saintliness, you hypocrite and rascal!" And he repeated the following
stanza:--
Where saintliness is but a cloak
Whereby to cozen guileless folk
And screen a villain's treachery,
--The cat-like nature there we see 1.
So saying, the king of the rats sprang at the jackal's throat and bit his
windpipe asunder just under the jaw, so that he died. Back trooped the other
rats and gobbled up the body of the jackal with a 'crunch, crunch,
crunch';--that is to say, the foremost of them did, for they say there was none
left for the last-corners. And ever after the rats lived happily in peace and
quiet.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master made the connection by saying, "This hypocritical
Brother was the jackal of those days, and I the king of the rats."
Footnotes
282:1 Though the foregoing prose relates to a jackal, the stanza speaks of a
cat, as does the Mahābhārata in its version of this story.
Next: No. 129. Aggika-Jātaka
[460] No. 128.
BIḶĀRA-JĀTAKA.
"Where saintliness."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a hypocrite. When the Brother's hypocrisy was reported to him, the Master said,
"This is not the first time he has shewn himself a hypocrite; he was just the
sane in times gone by." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
rat, perfect in wisdom, and as big as a young boar.
He had his dwelling in the forest and many hundreds of other rats owned his
sway.
p. 282
Now there was a roving jackal who espied this troop of rats and fell to scheming
how to beguile and eat them. And he took up his stand near their home with his
face to the sun, snuffing up the wind, and standing on one leg. Seeing this when
out on his road in quest of food, the Bodhisatta conceived the jackal to be a
saintly being, and went up and asked his name.
"'Godly' is my name," said the jackal. "Why do you stand only on one leg?"
"Because if I stood on all four at once, the earth could not bear my weight.
That is why I stand on one leg only." "And why do you keep your mouth open?" "To
take the air. I live on air; it is my only food." "And why do you face the sun?"
"To worship him." "What uprightness!" thought the Bodhisatta, and thenceforward
he made a point of going, attended by the other rats, to pay his respects
morning and evening to the saintly jackal. And when the rats were leaving, the
jackal seized and devoured the hindermost one of them, wiped his lips, and
looked as though nothing had happened. In consequence of this the rats grew
fewer and fewer, till they noticed the gaps in their ranks, and wondering why
this was so, asked the Bodhisatta the reason. He could not make it out, but
suspecting the jackal, [461] resolved to put him to the test. So next day he let
the other rats go out first and himself brought up the rear. The jackal made a
spring on the Bodhisatta who, seeing him coming, faced round and cried, "So this
is your saintliness, you hypocrite and rascal!" And he repeated the following
stanza:--
Where saintliness is but a cloak
Whereby to cozen guileless folk
And screen a villain's treachery,
--The cat-like nature there we see 1.
So saying, the king of the rats sprang at the jackal's throat and bit his
windpipe asunder just under the jaw, so that he died. Back trooped the other
rats and gobbled up the body of the jackal with a 'crunch, crunch,
crunch';--that is to say, the foremost of them did, for they say there was none
left for the last-corners. And ever after the rats lived happily in peace and
quiet.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master made the connection by saying, "This hypocritical
Brother was the jackal of those days, and I the king of the rats."
Footnotes
282:1 Though the foregoing prose relates to a jackal, the stanza speaks of a
cat, as does the Mahābhārata in its version of this story.
Next: No. 129. Aggika-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Kalanduka Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 127. Kalaṇḍuka-Jātaka
No. 127.
KALAṆḌUKA-JĀTAKA.
"You vaunt."--This story was told by the Master once at Jetavana, about a
boastful Brother. (The introductory story and the story of the past in this case
are like those of Kaṭāhaka related above 1.)
_____________________________
Kalaṇḍuka was in this case the name of the slave of the Treasurer of Benares.
And when he had run away and was living in luxury with the daughter of the
border-merchant, the Treasurer missed him and could not discover his
whereabouts. So he sent a young pet parrot to search for the runaway. And off
flew the parrot in quest of Kalaṇḍuka, and searched for him far and wide, till
at last the bird came to the town where he dwelt. And just at that very time
Kalaṇḍuka was enjoying himself on the river with his wife in a boat well-stocked
with dainty fare and with flowers and perfumes. Now the nobles of that land at
their water-parties make a point of taking milk with a pungent drug to drink,
and so escape suffering from cold after their pastime on the water. [459] But
when our Kalaṇḍuka tasted this milk, he hawked and spat it out; and in so doing
spat on the head of the merchant's daughter. At this moment up flew the parrot,
and saw all this from the bough of a fig-tree on the bank. "Come, come,
p. 281
slave Kalaṇḍuka," cried the bird; "remember who and what you are, and don't spit
on the head of this young gentlewoman. Know your place, fellow." So saying, he
uttered the following stanza:--
You vaunt your high descent, your high degree,
With lying tongue. Though but a bird, I know
The truth. You'll soon be caught, you runaway.
Scorn not the milk then, slave Kalaṇḍuka.
Recognizing the parrot, Kalaṇḍuka grew afraid of being exposed, and exclaimed,
"Ah! good master, when did you arrive?"
Thought the parrot, "It is not friendliness, but a wish to wring my neck, that
prompts this kindly interest." So he replied that he did not stand in need of
Kalaṇḍuka's services, and flew off to Benares, where he told the Lord Treasurer
everything he had seen.
"The rascal!" cried the Treasurer, and ordered Kalaṇḍuka to be hauled back to
Benares where he had once more to put up with a slave's fare.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
Kalaṇḍuka in the story, and I the Treasurer of Benares."
Footnotes
280:1 No. 125.
Next: No. 128. Biḷāra-Jātaka
No. 127.
KALAṆḌUKA-JĀTAKA.
"You vaunt."--This story was told by the Master once at Jetavana, about a
boastful Brother. (The introductory story and the story of the past in this case
are like those of Kaṭāhaka related above 1.)
_____________________________
Kalaṇḍuka was in this case the name of the slave of the Treasurer of Benares.
And when he had run away and was living in luxury with the daughter of the
border-merchant, the Treasurer missed him and could not discover his
whereabouts. So he sent a young pet parrot to search for the runaway. And off
flew the parrot in quest of Kalaṇḍuka, and searched for him far and wide, till
at last the bird came to the town where he dwelt. And just at that very time
Kalaṇḍuka was enjoying himself on the river with his wife in a boat well-stocked
with dainty fare and with flowers and perfumes. Now the nobles of that land at
their water-parties make a point of taking milk with a pungent drug to drink,
and so escape suffering from cold after their pastime on the water. [459] But
when our Kalaṇḍuka tasted this milk, he hawked and spat it out; and in so doing
spat on the head of the merchant's daughter. At this moment up flew the parrot,
and saw all this from the bough of a fig-tree on the bank. "Come, come,
p. 281
slave Kalaṇḍuka," cried the bird; "remember who and what you are, and don't spit
on the head of this young gentlewoman. Know your place, fellow." So saying, he
uttered the following stanza:--
You vaunt your high descent, your high degree,
With lying tongue. Though but a bird, I know
The truth. You'll soon be caught, you runaway.
Scorn not the milk then, slave Kalaṇḍuka.
Recognizing the parrot, Kalaṇḍuka grew afraid of being exposed, and exclaimed,
"Ah! good master, when did you arrive?"
Thought the parrot, "It is not friendliness, but a wish to wring my neck, that
prompts this kindly interest." So he replied that he did not stand in need of
Kalaṇḍuka's services, and flew off to Benares, where he told the Lord Treasurer
everything he had seen.
"The rascal!" cried the Treasurer, and ordered Kalaṇḍuka to be hauled back to
Benares where he had once more to put up with a slave's fare.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
Kalaṇḍuka in the story, and I the Treasurer of Benares."
Footnotes
280:1 No. 125.
Next: No. 128. Biḷāra-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Asilakkhana Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 126. Asilakkhaṇa-Jātaka
No. 126.
ASILAKKHAṆA-JĀTAKA.
"Our diverse fates."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a brahmin retained by the King of Kosala because of his power of telling whether
swords were lucky or not. We are told that when the king's smiths had forged a
sword, this brahmin could by merely smelling it tell whether it was
p. 278
a lucky one or not. And he made it a rule only to commend the work of those
smiths who gave him presents, while he rejected the work of those who did not
bribe him.
Now a certain smith made a sword and put into the sheath with it some
finely-ground pepper, and brought it in this state to the King, who at once
handed it over to the brahmin to test. The brahmin unsheathed the blade and
sniffed at it. The pepper got up his nose and made him sneeze, and that so
violently that he slit his nose on the edge of the sword 1.
This mishap of the brahmin came to the Brethren's ears, and one day they were
talking about it in the Hall of Truth when the Master entered. On learning the
subject of their talk, he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that this
brahmin has slit his nose sniffing swords. The same fate befell him in former
days." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, he had in his service a
brahmin who professed to tell whether swords were lucky or not, and all came to
pass as in the Introductory Story. And the king called in the surgeons and had
him fitted with a false tip to his nose which was cunningly painted for all the
world like a real nose; and then the brahmin resumed his duties again about the
king. Now Brahmadatta had no son, only a daughter and a nephew, whom he had
brought up under his own eye. And when these two grew up, they fell in love with
one another. So the king sent for his councillors and said to them, "My nephew
is heir to the throne. If I give him my daughter to wife, he shall be anointed
king."
[456] But, on second thoughts, he decided that as in any case his nephew was
like a son, he had better marry him to a foreign princess, and give his daughter
to a prince of another royal house. For, he thought, this plan would give him
more grandchildren and vest in his line the sceptres of two several kingdoms.
And, after consulting with his councillors, he resolved to separate the two, and
they were accordingly made to dwell apart from one another. Now they were
sixteen years old and very much in love, and the young prince thought of nothing
but how to carry off the princess from her father's palace. At last the plan
struck him of sending for a wise woman, to whom he gave a pocketful of money.
"And what's this for?" said she.
Then he told her of his passion, and besought the wise woman to convey him to
his dear princess.
And she promised him success, and said that she would tell the king that his
daughter was under the influence of witchcraft, but that, as the demon had
possessed her so long that he was off his guard, she would take
p. 279
the princess one day in a carriage to the cemetery with a strong escort under
arms, and there in a magic circle lay the princess on a bed with a dead man
under it, and with a hundred and eight douches of scented water wash the demon
out of her. "And when on this pretext I bring the princess to the cemetery,"
continued the wise woman, "mind that you just reach the cemetery before us in
your carriage with an armed escort, taking some ground pepper with you. Arrived
at the cemetery, you will leave your carriage at the entrance, and despatch your
men to the cemetery grove, while you will yourself go to the top of the mound
and lie down as though dead. Then I will come and set up a bed over you on which
I will lay the princess. Then will come the time when you must sniff at the
pepper till you sneeze two or three times, and [457] when you sneeze we will
leave the princess and take to our heels. Thereon you and the princess must
bathe all over, and you must take her home with you." "Capital," said the
prince; "a most excellent device."
So away went the wise woman to the king, and he fell in with her idea, as did
the princess when it was explained to her. When the day came, the old woman told
the princess their errand, and said to the guards on the road in order to
frighten them, "Listen. Under the bed that I shall set up, there will be a dead
man; and that dead man will sneeze. And mark well that, so soon as he has
sneezed, he will come out from under the bed and seize on the first person he
finds. So be prepared, all of you."
Now the prince had already got to the place and got under the bed as had been
arranged.
Next the crone led off the princess and laid her upon the bed, whispering to her
not to be afraid. At once the prince sniffed at the pepper and fell a-sneezing.
And scarce had he begun to sneeze before the wise woman left the princess and
with a loud scream was off, quicker than ally of them. Not a man stood his
ground;--one and all they threw away their arms and bolted for dear life. Hereon
the prince came forth and bore off the princess to his home, as had been before
arranged. And the old woman made her way to the king and told him what had
happened.
"Well," thought the king, "I always intended her for him, and they've grown up
together like ghee in rice-porridge." So he didn't fly into a passion, but in
course of time made his nephew king of the land, with his daughter as
queen-consort.
Now the new king kept on in his service the brahmin who professed to tell the
temper of swords, and one day as he stood in the sun, the false tip to the
brahmin's nose got loose and fell off. And there he stood, hanging his head for
very shame. "Never mind, never mind," laughed the king. "Sneezing is good for
some, but bad for others. One sneeze
p. 280
lost you your nose [458]; whilst I have to thank a sneeze for both my throne and
queen." So saying he uttered this stanza:--
Our diverse fates this moral show,
--What brings me weal, may work you woe.
So spake the king, and after a life spent in charity and other good works, he
passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
In this wise did the Master teach the lesson that the world was wrong in
thinking things were definitely and absolutely good or bad in all cases alike.
Lastly, he identified the Birth by saying, "The same man that now professes to
understand whether swords are lucky or not, professed the same skill in those
days; and I was myself the prince who inherited his uncle's kingdom."
Footnotes
278:1 Cf. Rogers' "Buddhaghosha's Parables," p. 119, where this Introductory
Story is given.
Next: No. 127. Kalaṇḍuka-Jātaka
No. 126.
ASILAKKHAṆA-JĀTAKA.
"Our diverse fates."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about
a brahmin retained by the King of Kosala because of his power of telling whether
swords were lucky or not. We are told that when the king's smiths had forged a
sword, this brahmin could by merely smelling it tell whether it was
p. 278
a lucky one or not. And he made it a rule only to commend the work of those
smiths who gave him presents, while he rejected the work of those who did not
bribe him.
Now a certain smith made a sword and put into the sheath with it some
finely-ground pepper, and brought it in this state to the King, who at once
handed it over to the brahmin to test. The brahmin unsheathed the blade and
sniffed at it. The pepper got up his nose and made him sneeze, and that so
violently that he slit his nose on the edge of the sword 1.
This mishap of the brahmin came to the Brethren's ears, and one day they were
talking about it in the Hall of Truth when the Master entered. On learning the
subject of their talk, he said, "This is not the first time, Brethren, that this
brahmin has slit his nose sniffing swords. The same fate befell him in former
days." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, he had in his service a
brahmin who professed to tell whether swords were lucky or not, and all came to
pass as in the Introductory Story. And the king called in the surgeons and had
him fitted with a false tip to his nose which was cunningly painted for all the
world like a real nose; and then the brahmin resumed his duties again about the
king. Now Brahmadatta had no son, only a daughter and a nephew, whom he had
brought up under his own eye. And when these two grew up, they fell in love with
one another. So the king sent for his councillors and said to them, "My nephew
is heir to the throne. If I give him my daughter to wife, he shall be anointed
king."
[456] But, on second thoughts, he decided that as in any case his nephew was
like a son, he had better marry him to a foreign princess, and give his daughter
to a prince of another royal house. For, he thought, this plan would give him
more grandchildren and vest in his line the sceptres of two several kingdoms.
And, after consulting with his councillors, he resolved to separate the two, and
they were accordingly made to dwell apart from one another. Now they were
sixteen years old and very much in love, and the young prince thought of nothing
but how to carry off the princess from her father's palace. At last the plan
struck him of sending for a wise woman, to whom he gave a pocketful of money.
"And what's this for?" said she.
Then he told her of his passion, and besought the wise woman to convey him to
his dear princess.
And she promised him success, and said that she would tell the king that his
daughter was under the influence of witchcraft, but that, as the demon had
possessed her so long that he was off his guard, she would take
p. 279
the princess one day in a carriage to the cemetery with a strong escort under
arms, and there in a magic circle lay the princess on a bed with a dead man
under it, and with a hundred and eight douches of scented water wash the demon
out of her. "And when on this pretext I bring the princess to the cemetery,"
continued the wise woman, "mind that you just reach the cemetery before us in
your carriage with an armed escort, taking some ground pepper with you. Arrived
at the cemetery, you will leave your carriage at the entrance, and despatch your
men to the cemetery grove, while you will yourself go to the top of the mound
and lie down as though dead. Then I will come and set up a bed over you on which
I will lay the princess. Then will come the time when you must sniff at the
pepper till you sneeze two or three times, and [457] when you sneeze we will
leave the princess and take to our heels. Thereon you and the princess must
bathe all over, and you must take her home with you." "Capital," said the
prince; "a most excellent device."
So away went the wise woman to the king, and he fell in with her idea, as did
the princess when it was explained to her. When the day came, the old woman told
the princess their errand, and said to the guards on the road in order to
frighten them, "Listen. Under the bed that I shall set up, there will be a dead
man; and that dead man will sneeze. And mark well that, so soon as he has
sneezed, he will come out from under the bed and seize on the first person he
finds. So be prepared, all of you."
Now the prince had already got to the place and got under the bed as had been
arranged.
Next the crone led off the princess and laid her upon the bed, whispering to her
not to be afraid. At once the prince sniffed at the pepper and fell a-sneezing.
And scarce had he begun to sneeze before the wise woman left the princess and
with a loud scream was off, quicker than ally of them. Not a man stood his
ground;--one and all they threw away their arms and bolted for dear life. Hereon
the prince came forth and bore off the princess to his home, as had been before
arranged. And the old woman made her way to the king and told him what had
happened.
"Well," thought the king, "I always intended her for him, and they've grown up
together like ghee in rice-porridge." So he didn't fly into a passion, but in
course of time made his nephew king of the land, with his daughter as
queen-consort.
Now the new king kept on in his service the brahmin who professed to tell the
temper of swords, and one day as he stood in the sun, the false tip to the
brahmin's nose got loose and fell off. And there he stood, hanging his head for
very shame. "Never mind, never mind," laughed the king. "Sneezing is good for
some, but bad for others. One sneeze
p. 280
lost you your nose [458]; whilst I have to thank a sneeze for both my throne and
queen." So saying he uttered this stanza:--
Our diverse fates this moral show,
--What brings me weal, may work you woe.
So spake the king, and after a life spent in charity and other good works, he
passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
In this wise did the Master teach the lesson that the world was wrong in
thinking things were definitely and absolutely good or bad in all cases alike.
Lastly, he identified the Birth by saying, "The same man that now professes to
understand whether swords are lucky or not, professed the same skill in those
days; and I was myself the prince who inherited his uncle's kingdom."
Footnotes
278:1 Cf. Rogers' "Buddhaghosha's Parables," p. 119, where this Introductory
Story is given.
Next: No. 127. Kalaṇḍuka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Katahaka Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 125. Kaṭāhaka-Jātaka
p. 275
No. 125.
KAṬĀHAKA-JĀTAKA.
"If he ’mid strangers."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a boastful Brother. The introductory story about him is like what has been
already related 1.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
rich Treasurer, and his wife bore him a son. And the selfsame day a female slave
in his house gave birth to a boy, and the two children grew up together. And
when the rich man's son was being taught to write, the young slave used to go
with his young master's tablets and so learned at the same time to write
himself. Next he learned two or three handicrafts, and grew up to be a
fair-spoken and handsome young man; and his name was Kaṭāhaka. Being employed as
private secretary, he thought to himself, "I shall not always be kept at this
work. The slightest fault and I shall be beaten, imprisoned, branded, and fed on
slave's fare. On the border there lives a merchant, a friend of my master's. Why
should I not go to him with a letter purporting to come from my master, and,
passing myself off as my master's son, marry the merchant's daughter and live
happily ever afterwards?
So he wrote a letter, [452] saying, "The bearer of this is my son. It is meet
that our houses should be united in marriage, and I would have you give your
daughter to this my son and keep the young couple near you for the present. As
soon as I can conveniently do so, I will come to you." This letter he sealed
with his master's private seal, and came to the border-merchant's with a
well-filled purse, handsome dresses, and perfumes and the like. And with a bow
he stood before the merchant. "Where do you come from?" said the merchant. "From
Benares." "Who is your father?" "The Treasurer of Benares." "And what brings you
here?" "This letter will tell you," said Kaṭāhaka, handing it to him. The
merchant read the letter and exclaimed, "This gives me new life." And in his joy
he gave his daughter to Kaṭāhaka and set up the young couple, who lived in great
style. But Kaṭāhaka gave himself airs, and used to find fault with the victuals
and the clothes that were brought him, calling them "provincial." "These
misguided provincials," he would say, "have
p. 276
no idea of dressing. And as for taste in scents and garlands, they've got none."
Missing his slave, the Bodhisatta said, "I don't see Kaṭāhaka. Where has he
gone? Find him." And off went the Bodhisatta's people in quest of him, and
searched far and wide till they found him. Then back they came, without Kaṭāhaka
recognizing them, and told the Bodhisatta.
"This will never do," said the Bodhisatta on hearing the news. "I will go and
bring him back." So he asked the King's permission, and departed with a great
following. And the tidings spread everywhere that the Treasurer was on his way
to the borders. Hearing the news Kaṭāhaka fell to thinking of his course of
action. He knew that he was the sole reason of the Treasurer's coming, and he
saw that to run away now was to destroy all chance of returning. So he decided
to go to meet the Treasurer, and conciliate him by acting as a slave towards him
as in the old days. Acting on this plan, he made a point of proclaiming in [453]
public on all occasions his disapprobation of the lamentable decay of respect
towards parents which shewed itself in children's sitting down to meals with
their parents, instead of waiting upon them. "When my parents take their meals,"
said Kaṭāhaka, "I hand the plates and dishes, bring the spittoon, and fetch
their fans for them. Such is my invariable practice." And he explained carefully
a slave's duty to his master, such as bringing the water . and ministering to
him when he retired. And having already schooled folk in general, he had said to
his father-in-law shortly before the arrival of the Bodhisatta, "I hear that my
father is coming to see you. You had better make ready to entertain him, while I
will go and meet him on the road with a present." "Do so, my dear boy," said his
father-in-law.
So Kaṭāhaka took a magnificent present and went out with a large retinue to meet
the Bodhisatta, to whom he handed the present with a low obeisance. The
Bodhisatta took the present in a kindly way, and at breakfast time made his
encampment and retired for the purposes of nature. Stopping his retinue,
Kaṭāhaka took water and approached the Bodhisatta. Then the young man fell at
the Bodhisatta's feet and cried, "Oh, sir, I will pay any sum you may require;
but do not expose me."
"Fear no exposure at my hands," said the Bodhisatta, pleased at his dutiful
conduct, and entered into the city, where he was fēted with great magnificence.
And Kaṭāhaka still acted as his slave.
As the Treasurer sat at his ease, the border-merchant said, "My Lord, upon
receipt of your letter I duly gave my daughter in marriage to your son." And the
Treasurer made a suitable reply about 'his son' in so kindly a way that the
merchant was delighted beyond measure. But from that time forth the Bodhisatta
could not bear the sight of Kaṭāhaka.
One day the Great Being sent for the merchant's daughter and said, "My dear,
please look my head over." She did so, and he thanked her for
p. 277
her much-needed services, [454] adding, "And now tell me, my dear, whether my
son is a reasonable man in weal and woe, and whether you manage to get on well
with him."
"My husband has only one fault. He will find fault with his food."
"He has always had his faults, my dear; but I will tell you how to stop his
tongue. I will tell you a text which you must learn carefully and repeat to your
husband when he finds fault again with his food." And he taught her the lines
and shortly afterwards set out for Benares. Kaṭāhaka accompanied him part of the
way, and took his leave after offering most valuable presents to the Treasurer.
Dating from the departure of the Bodhisatta, Kaṭāhaka waxed prouder and prouder.
One day his wife ordered a nice dinner, and began to help him to it with a
spoon, but at the first mouthful Kaṭāhaka began to grumble. Thereon the
merchant's daughter remembering her lesson, repeated the following stanza:--
If he ’mid strangers far from home talks big 1,
Back comes his visitor to spoil it all.
--Come, eat your dinner then, Kaṭāhaka 2.
"Dear me," thought Kaṭāhaka, "the Treasurer must have informed her of my name,
and have told her the whole story." And from that day forth he gave himself no
more airs, but humbly ate what was set before him, and at his death passed away
to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
[455] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This
bumptious Brother was the Kaṭāhaka of those days, and I the Treasurer of
Benares."
Footnotes
275:1 No. 80, probably.
277:1 Cf. Upham Mahāv. 3. 301.
277:2 The scholiast explains that the wife had no understanding of the meaning
of the verse, but only repeated the words as she was taught them. That is to
say, the gāthā was not in the vernacular, but in a learned tongue intelligible
to the educated Kaṭāhaka, but not to the woman, who repeated it parrot-fashion.
Next: No. 126. Asilakkhaṇa-Jātaka
p. 275
No. 125.
KAṬĀHAKA-JĀTAKA.
"If he ’mid strangers."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a boastful Brother. The introductory story about him is like what has been
already related 1.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was a
rich Treasurer, and his wife bore him a son. And the selfsame day a female slave
in his house gave birth to a boy, and the two children grew up together. And
when the rich man's son was being taught to write, the young slave used to go
with his young master's tablets and so learned at the same time to write
himself. Next he learned two or three handicrafts, and grew up to be a
fair-spoken and handsome young man; and his name was Kaṭāhaka. Being employed as
private secretary, he thought to himself, "I shall not always be kept at this
work. The slightest fault and I shall be beaten, imprisoned, branded, and fed on
slave's fare. On the border there lives a merchant, a friend of my master's. Why
should I not go to him with a letter purporting to come from my master, and,
passing myself off as my master's son, marry the merchant's daughter and live
happily ever afterwards?
So he wrote a letter, [452] saying, "The bearer of this is my son. It is meet
that our houses should be united in marriage, and I would have you give your
daughter to this my son and keep the young couple near you for the present. As
soon as I can conveniently do so, I will come to you." This letter he sealed
with his master's private seal, and came to the border-merchant's with a
well-filled purse, handsome dresses, and perfumes and the like. And with a bow
he stood before the merchant. "Where do you come from?" said the merchant. "From
Benares." "Who is your father?" "The Treasurer of Benares." "And what brings you
here?" "This letter will tell you," said Kaṭāhaka, handing it to him. The
merchant read the letter and exclaimed, "This gives me new life." And in his joy
he gave his daughter to Kaṭāhaka and set up the young couple, who lived in great
style. But Kaṭāhaka gave himself airs, and used to find fault with the victuals
and the clothes that were brought him, calling them "provincial." "These
misguided provincials," he would say, "have
p. 276
no idea of dressing. And as for taste in scents and garlands, they've got none."
Missing his slave, the Bodhisatta said, "I don't see Kaṭāhaka. Where has he
gone? Find him." And off went the Bodhisatta's people in quest of him, and
searched far and wide till they found him. Then back they came, without Kaṭāhaka
recognizing them, and told the Bodhisatta.
"This will never do," said the Bodhisatta on hearing the news. "I will go and
bring him back." So he asked the King's permission, and departed with a great
following. And the tidings spread everywhere that the Treasurer was on his way
to the borders. Hearing the news Kaṭāhaka fell to thinking of his course of
action. He knew that he was the sole reason of the Treasurer's coming, and he
saw that to run away now was to destroy all chance of returning. So he decided
to go to meet the Treasurer, and conciliate him by acting as a slave towards him
as in the old days. Acting on this plan, he made a point of proclaiming in [453]
public on all occasions his disapprobation of the lamentable decay of respect
towards parents which shewed itself in children's sitting down to meals with
their parents, instead of waiting upon them. "When my parents take their meals,"
said Kaṭāhaka, "I hand the plates and dishes, bring the spittoon, and fetch
their fans for them. Such is my invariable practice." And he explained carefully
a slave's duty to his master, such as bringing the water . and ministering to
him when he retired. And having already schooled folk in general, he had said to
his father-in-law shortly before the arrival of the Bodhisatta, "I hear that my
father is coming to see you. You had better make ready to entertain him, while I
will go and meet him on the road with a present." "Do so, my dear boy," said his
father-in-law.
So Kaṭāhaka took a magnificent present and went out with a large retinue to meet
the Bodhisatta, to whom he handed the present with a low obeisance. The
Bodhisatta took the present in a kindly way, and at breakfast time made his
encampment and retired for the purposes of nature. Stopping his retinue,
Kaṭāhaka took water and approached the Bodhisatta. Then the young man fell at
the Bodhisatta's feet and cried, "Oh, sir, I will pay any sum you may require;
but do not expose me."
"Fear no exposure at my hands," said the Bodhisatta, pleased at his dutiful
conduct, and entered into the city, where he was fēted with great magnificence.
And Kaṭāhaka still acted as his slave.
As the Treasurer sat at his ease, the border-merchant said, "My Lord, upon
receipt of your letter I duly gave my daughter in marriage to your son." And the
Treasurer made a suitable reply about 'his son' in so kindly a way that the
merchant was delighted beyond measure. But from that time forth the Bodhisatta
could not bear the sight of Kaṭāhaka.
One day the Great Being sent for the merchant's daughter and said, "My dear,
please look my head over." She did so, and he thanked her for
p. 277
her much-needed services, [454] adding, "And now tell me, my dear, whether my
son is a reasonable man in weal and woe, and whether you manage to get on well
with him."
"My husband has only one fault. He will find fault with his food."
"He has always had his faults, my dear; but I will tell you how to stop his
tongue. I will tell you a text which you must learn carefully and repeat to your
husband when he finds fault again with his food." And he taught her the lines
and shortly afterwards set out for Benares. Kaṭāhaka accompanied him part of the
way, and took his leave after offering most valuable presents to the Treasurer.
Dating from the departure of the Bodhisatta, Kaṭāhaka waxed prouder and prouder.
One day his wife ordered a nice dinner, and began to help him to it with a
spoon, but at the first mouthful Kaṭāhaka began to grumble. Thereon the
merchant's daughter remembering her lesson, repeated the following stanza:--
If he ’mid strangers far from home talks big 1,
Back comes his visitor to spoil it all.
--Come, eat your dinner then, Kaṭāhaka 2.
"Dear me," thought Kaṭāhaka, "the Treasurer must have informed her of my name,
and have told her the whole story." And from that day forth he gave himself no
more airs, but humbly ate what was set before him, and at his death passed away
to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
[455] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This
bumptious Brother was the Kaṭāhaka of those days, and I the Treasurer of
Benares."
Footnotes
275:1 No. 80, probably.
277:1 Cf. Upham Mahāv. 3. 301.
277:2 The scholiast explains that the wife had no understanding of the meaning
of the verse, but only repeated the words as she was taught them. That is to
say, the gāthā was not in the vernacular, but in a learned tongue intelligible
to the educated Kaṭāhaka, but not to the woman, who repeated it parrot-fashion.
Next: No. 126. Asilakkhaṇa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Amba Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 124. Amba-Jātaka
No. 124.
AMBA-JĀTAKA.
"Toil on, my brother."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a good brahmin belonging to a noble Sāvatthi family who gave his heart to
the Truth, and, joining the Brotherhood, became constant in all duties.
Blameless in his attendance on teachers; scrupulous in the matter of foods and
drinks; zealous in the performance of the duties of the chapter-house,
bath-house, and so forth; perfectly punctual in the observance of the fourteen
major and of the eighty minor disciplines; he used to sweep the monastery, the
cells, the cloisters, and the path leading to their monastery, and gave water to
thirsty folk. And because of his great goodness folk gave regularly five hundred
meals a clay to the Brethren; and great gain and honour accrued to the
monastery, the many prospering for the virtues of one. And one day in the Hall
of Truth the Brethren fell to talking of how that Brother's goodness had brought
them gain and honour, and filled many lives with joy. Entering the Hall, [450]
the Master asked, and
p. 274
was told, what their talk was about. "This is not the first time, Brethren,"
said he, "that this Brother has been regular in the fulfilment of duties, In
days gone by five hundred hermits going out to gather fruits were supported on
the fruits that his goodness provided." So saying, he told this story of the
past.
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in the North, and, growing up, gave up the world and dwelt at the head
of five hundred hermits at the foot of the mountains. In those days there came a
great drought upon the Himalaya country, and everywhere the water was dried up,
and sore distress fell upon all beasts. Seeing the poor creatures suffering from
thirst, one of the hermits cut down a tree which he hollowed into a trough; and
this trough he filled with all the water he could find. In this way he gave the
animals to drink. And they came in herds and drank and drank till the hermit had
no time left to go and gather fruits for himself. Heedless of his own hunger, he
worked away to quench the animals' thirst. Thought they to themselves, "So wrapt
up is this hermit in ministering to our wants that he leaves himself no time to
go in quest of fruits. He must be very hungry. Let us agree that everyone of us
who comes here to drink must bring such fruits as he can to the hermit." This
they agreed to do, every animal that came bringing mangoes or jambus or
bread-fruits or the like, till their offerings would have filled two hundred and
fifty waggons; and there was food for the whole five hundred hermits with
abundance to spare. Seeing this, the Bodhisatta exclaimed, "Thus has one main's
goodness been the means of supplying with food all these hermits. Truly, we
should always be stedfast in right-doing." So saying, he uttered this stanza:--
Toil on, my brother; still in hope stand fast;
Nor let thy courage flag and tire;
Forget not him, who by his grievous fast 1
Reaped fruits beyond his heart's desire.
[451] Such was the teaching of the Great Being to the band of hermits.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
the good hermit of those days, and I the hermits' master."
Footnotes
274:1 Cf. Vol. iv. 269 (text), and supra page 133.
Next: No. 125. Kaṭāhaka-Jātaka
No. 124.
AMBA-JĀTAKA.
"Toil on, my brother."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a good brahmin belonging to a noble Sāvatthi family who gave his heart to
the Truth, and, joining the Brotherhood, became constant in all duties.
Blameless in his attendance on teachers; scrupulous in the matter of foods and
drinks; zealous in the performance of the duties of the chapter-house,
bath-house, and so forth; perfectly punctual in the observance of the fourteen
major and of the eighty minor disciplines; he used to sweep the monastery, the
cells, the cloisters, and the path leading to their monastery, and gave water to
thirsty folk. And because of his great goodness folk gave regularly five hundred
meals a clay to the Brethren; and great gain and honour accrued to the
monastery, the many prospering for the virtues of one. And one day in the Hall
of Truth the Brethren fell to talking of how that Brother's goodness had brought
them gain and honour, and filled many lives with joy. Entering the Hall, [450]
the Master asked, and
p. 274
was told, what their talk was about. "This is not the first time, Brethren,"
said he, "that this Brother has been regular in the fulfilment of duties, In
days gone by five hundred hermits going out to gather fruits were supported on
the fruits that his goodness provided." So saying, he told this story of the
past.
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in the North, and, growing up, gave up the world and dwelt at the head
of five hundred hermits at the foot of the mountains. In those days there came a
great drought upon the Himalaya country, and everywhere the water was dried up,
and sore distress fell upon all beasts. Seeing the poor creatures suffering from
thirst, one of the hermits cut down a tree which he hollowed into a trough; and
this trough he filled with all the water he could find. In this way he gave the
animals to drink. And they came in herds and drank and drank till the hermit had
no time left to go and gather fruits for himself. Heedless of his own hunger, he
worked away to quench the animals' thirst. Thought they to themselves, "So wrapt
up is this hermit in ministering to our wants that he leaves himself no time to
go in quest of fruits. He must be very hungry. Let us agree that everyone of us
who comes here to drink must bring such fruits as he can to the hermit." This
they agreed to do, every animal that came bringing mangoes or jambus or
bread-fruits or the like, till their offerings would have filled two hundred and
fifty waggons; and there was food for the whole five hundred hermits with
abundance to spare. Seeing this, the Bodhisatta exclaimed, "Thus has one main's
goodness been the means of supplying with food all these hermits. Truly, we
should always be stedfast in right-doing." So saying, he uttered this stanza:--
Toil on, my brother; still in hope stand fast;
Nor let thy courage flag and tire;
Forget not him, who by his grievous fast 1
Reaped fruits beyond his heart's desire.
[451] Such was the teaching of the Great Being to the band of hermits.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This Brother was
the good hermit of those days, and I the hermits' master."
Footnotes
274:1 Cf. Vol. iv. 269 (text), and supra page 133.
Next: No. 125. Kaṭāhaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Nangalisa Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 123. Naṅgalīsa-Jātaka
No. 123.
NAṄGALĪSA-JĀTAKA.
"For universal application."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about the Elder Lāḷudāyi who is said to have had a knack of always
saying the wrong thing. He never knew the proper occasion for the several
teachings. For instance, if it was a festival, he would croak out the gloomy
text 1, "Without the walls they lurk, and where four cross-roads meet." If it
was a funeral, he would burst out with "Joy filled the hearts of gods and men,"
or with "Oh may you see [447] a hundred, nay a thousand such glad days!"
Now one day the Brethren in the Hall of Truth commented on his singular
infelicity of subject and his knack of always saying the wrong thing. As they
sat talking, the Master entered, and, in answer to his question, was told the
subject of their talk. "Brethren," said he, "this is not the first time that
Lāḷudāyi's folly has made him say the wrong thing. He has always been as inept
as now." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
p. 272
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a rich brahmin's family, and when he grew up, was versed in all knowledge
and was a world-renowned professor with five hundred young brahmins to instruct.
At the time of our story there was among the young brahmins one who always had
foolish notions in his head and always said the wrong thing; he was engaged with
the rest in learning the scriptures as a pupil, but because of his folly could
not master them. He was the devoted attendant of the Bodhisatta and ministered
to him like a slave.
Now one day after supper the Bodhisatta laid himself on his bed and there was
washed and perfumed by the young brahmin on hands, feet and back. And as the
youth turned to go away, the Bodhisatta said to him, "Prop up the feet of my bed
before you go." And the young brahmin propped up the feet of the bed on one side
all right, but could not find anything to prop it up with on the other side.
Accordingly he used his leg as a prop and passed the night so. When the
Bodhisatta got up in the morning and saw the young brahmin, he asked why he was
sitting there. "Master," said the young man, "I could not find one of the bed
supports; so I've got my leg under to prop it up instead."
Moved at these words, the Bodhisatta thought, "What devotion! And to think it
should come from the veriest dullard of all my pupils. Yet how can I impart
learning to him?" And the thought came to him that the best way was to question
the young brahmin on his return from gathering firewood and leaves, as to
something he had seen or done that day; and then to ask what it was like. [448]
"For," thought the master, "this will lead him on to making comparisons and
giving reasons, and the continuous practice of comparing and reasoning on his
part will enable me to impart learning to him."
Accordingly he sent for the young man and told him always on his return from
picking up firewood and leaves to say what he had seen or eaten or drunk. And
the young man promised he would. So one day having seen a snake when out with
the other pupils picking up wood in the forest, he said, "Master, I saw a
snake." "What did it look like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a plough." "That is a
very good comparison. Snakes are like the shafts of ploughs," said the
Bodhisatta, who began to have hopes that he might at last succeed with his
pupil.
Another day the young brahmin saw an elephant in the forest and told his master.
"And what is an elephant like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a plough." His master
said nothing, for he thought that, as the elephant's trunk and tusks bore a
certain resemblance to the shaft of a plough, perhaps his pupil's stupidity made
him speak thus generally (though he was thinking of the trunk in particular),
because of his inability to go into accurate detail,
p. 273
A third day he was invited to eat sugar-cane, and duly told his master. "And
what is a sugar-cane like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a plough." .,That is scarcely
a good comparison," thought his master, but said nothing. Another day, again,
the pupils were invited to eat molasses with curds and milk, and this too was
duly reported. "And what are curds and milk like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a
plough." Then the master thought to himself, "This young man was perfectly right
in saying a snake was like the shaft of a plough, and was more or less right,
though not accurate, in saying an elephant and a sugar-cane had the same
similitude. But milk and curds (which are always white in colour) take the shape
of whatever vessel they are placed in; [449] and here he missed the comparison
entirely. This dullard will never learn." So saying he uttered this stanza:--
For universal application he
Employs a term of limited import.
Plough-shaft and curds to him alike unknown,
--The fool asserts the two things are the same.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Lāḷudāyi was the
dullard of those days, and I the professor of world-wide renown."
Footnotes
271:1 For this quotation see the Khuddaka Pātha edited by Childers (J. R. A. S.
1870, p. 319).
Next: No. 124. Amba-Jātaka
No. 123.
NAṄGALĪSA-JĀTAKA.
"For universal application."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about the Elder Lāḷudāyi who is said to have had a knack of always
saying the wrong thing. He never knew the proper occasion for the several
teachings. For instance, if it was a festival, he would croak out the gloomy
text 1, "Without the walls they lurk, and where four cross-roads meet." If it
was a funeral, he would burst out with "Joy filled the hearts of gods and men,"
or with "Oh may you see [447] a hundred, nay a thousand such glad days!"
Now one day the Brethren in the Hall of Truth commented on his singular
infelicity of subject and his knack of always saying the wrong thing. As they
sat talking, the Master entered, and, in answer to his question, was told the
subject of their talk. "Brethren," said he, "this is not the first time that
Lāḷudāyi's folly has made him say the wrong thing. He has always been as inept
as now." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
p. 272
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into a rich brahmin's family, and when he grew up, was versed in all knowledge
and was a world-renowned professor with five hundred young brahmins to instruct.
At the time of our story there was among the young brahmins one who always had
foolish notions in his head and always said the wrong thing; he was engaged with
the rest in learning the scriptures as a pupil, but because of his folly could
not master them. He was the devoted attendant of the Bodhisatta and ministered
to him like a slave.
Now one day after supper the Bodhisatta laid himself on his bed and there was
washed and perfumed by the young brahmin on hands, feet and back. And as the
youth turned to go away, the Bodhisatta said to him, "Prop up the feet of my bed
before you go." And the young brahmin propped up the feet of the bed on one side
all right, but could not find anything to prop it up with on the other side.
Accordingly he used his leg as a prop and passed the night so. When the
Bodhisatta got up in the morning and saw the young brahmin, he asked why he was
sitting there. "Master," said the young man, "I could not find one of the bed
supports; so I've got my leg under to prop it up instead."
Moved at these words, the Bodhisatta thought, "What devotion! And to think it
should come from the veriest dullard of all my pupils. Yet how can I impart
learning to him?" And the thought came to him that the best way was to question
the young brahmin on his return from gathering firewood and leaves, as to
something he had seen or done that day; and then to ask what it was like. [448]
"For," thought the master, "this will lead him on to making comparisons and
giving reasons, and the continuous practice of comparing and reasoning on his
part will enable me to impart learning to him."
Accordingly he sent for the young man and told him always on his return from
picking up firewood and leaves to say what he had seen or eaten or drunk. And
the young man promised he would. So one day having seen a snake when out with
the other pupils picking up wood in the forest, he said, "Master, I saw a
snake." "What did it look like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a plough." "That is a
very good comparison. Snakes are like the shafts of ploughs," said the
Bodhisatta, who began to have hopes that he might at last succeed with his
pupil.
Another day the young brahmin saw an elephant in the forest and told his master.
"And what is an elephant like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a plough." His master
said nothing, for he thought that, as the elephant's trunk and tusks bore a
certain resemblance to the shaft of a plough, perhaps his pupil's stupidity made
him speak thus generally (though he was thinking of the trunk in particular),
because of his inability to go into accurate detail,
p. 273
A third day he was invited to eat sugar-cane, and duly told his master. "And
what is a sugar-cane like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a plough." .,That is scarcely
a good comparison," thought his master, but said nothing. Another day, again,
the pupils were invited to eat molasses with curds and milk, and this too was
duly reported. "And what are curds and milk like?" "Oh, like the shaft of a
plough." Then the master thought to himself, "This young man was perfectly right
in saying a snake was like the shaft of a plough, and was more or less right,
though not accurate, in saying an elephant and a sugar-cane had the same
similitude. But milk and curds (which are always white in colour) take the shape
of whatever vessel they are placed in; [449] and here he missed the comparison
entirely. This dullard will never learn." So saying he uttered this stanza:--
For universal application he
Employs a term of limited import.
Plough-shaft and curds to him alike unknown,
--The fool asserts the two things are the same.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Lāḷudāyi was the
dullard of those days, and I the professor of world-wide renown."
Footnotes
271:1 For this quotation see the Khuddaka Pātha edited by Childers (J. R. A. S.
1870, p. 319).
Next: No. 124. Amba-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Dummedha Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 122. Dummedha-Jātaka
No. 122.
[444] DUMMEDHA-JĀTAKA.
"Exalted station breeds a fool great woe."--This story was told by the Master
while at the Bamboo-grove, about Devadatta. For the Brethren had met together in
the Hall of Truth, and were talking of how the sight of the Buddha's perfections
and all the distinctive signs of Buddhahood 1 maddened Devadatta; and how in his
jealousy he could not bear to hear the praises of the Buddha's utter wisdom.
Entering the Hall, the Master asked what was the subject of their converse. And
when they told him, he said, "Brethren, as now, so in former times Devadatta was
maddened by hearing my praises." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when King Magadha was ruling in Rājagaha in Magadha, the
Bodhisatta was born an elephant. He was white all over and graced with all the
beauty of form described above 2. And because of his beauty the king made him
his state elephant.
One festal day the king adorned the city like a city of the devas and, mounted
on the elephant in all its trappings, made a solemn procession round the city
attended by a great retinue. And all along the route the people were moved by
the sight of that peerless elephant to exclaim, "Oh what a stately gait! what
proportions! what beauty! what grace! such a white elephant is worthy of an
universal monarch." All this praise of his
p. 270
elephant awoke the king's jealousy and he resolved to have it cast over a
precipice and killed. So he summoned the mahout and asked whether he called that
a trained elephant.
"Indeed he is well trained, sire," said the mahout. "No, he is very badly
trained." "Sire, he is well trained." [445] "If he is so well trained, can you
get him to climb to the summit of Mount Vepulla?" "Yes, sire." "Away with you,
then," said the king. And he got down from the elephant, making the mahout mount
instead, and went himself to the foot of the mountain, whilst the mahout rode on
the elephant's back up to the top of Mount Vepulla. The king with his courtiers
also climbed the mountain, and had the elephant halted at the brink of a
precipice. "Now," said he to the man, "if he is so well trained as you say, make
him stand on three legs."
And the mahout on the elephant's back just touched the animal with his goad by
way of sign and called to him, "Hi! my beauty, stand on three legs." "Now make
him stand on his two fore-legs," said the king. And the Great Being raised his
hind-legs and stood on his fore-legs alone. "Now on the hind-legs," said the
king, and the obedient elephant raised his fore-legs till he stood on his
hind-legs alone. "Now on one leg," said the king, and the elephant stood on one
leg.
Seeing that the elephant did not fall over the precipice, the king cried, "Now
if you can, make him stand in the air."
Then thought the mahout to himself, "All India cannot shew the match of this
elephant for excellence of training. Surely the king must want to make him
tumble over the precipice and meet his death." So he whispered in the elephant's
ear, "My son, the king wants you to fall over and get killed. He is not worthy
of you. If you have power to journey through the air, rise up with me upon your
back and fly through the air to Benares."
And the Great Being, endowed as he was with the marvellous powers which flow
from Merit, straightway rose up into the air. Then said the mahout, "Sire, this
elephant, possessed as he is with the marvellous powers which flow from Merit,
is too good for such a worthless fool as you: none but a wise and good king is
worthy to be his master. When those who are so worthless as you get an elephant
like this, they don't know his value, and so they lose their elephant, and all
the rest of their glory and splendour." So saying the mahout, seated on the
elephant's neck, recited this stanza:--
Exalted station breeds a fool great woe;
He proves his own and others' mortal foe.
[446] "And now, goodbye," said he to the king as he ended this rebuke; and
rising in the air, he passed to Benares and halted in mid-air
p. 271
over the royal courtyard. And there was a great stir in the city and all cried
out, "Look at the state-elephant that has come through the air for our king and
is hovering over the royal courtyard." And with all haste the news was conveyed
to the king too, who came out and said, "If your coming is for my behoof, alight
on the earth." And the Bodhisatta descended from the air. Then the mahout got
down and bowed before the king, and in answer to the king's enquiries told the
whole story of their leaving Rājagaha. "It was very good of you," said the king,
"to come here"; and in his joy he had the city decorated and the elephant
installed in his state-stable. Then he divided his kingdom into three portions,
and made over one to the Bodhisatta, one to the mahout, and one he kept himself.
And his power grew from the day of the Bodhisatta's coming till all India owned
his sovereign sway. As Emperor of India, he was charitable and did other good
works till he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying "Devadatta was in
those days the king of Magadha, Sāriputta the king of Benares, Ānanda the
mahout, and I the elephant."
[Note. Cf. Milinda-pañho, 201.]
Footnotes
269:1 See p. 2, and (e.g.) the Sela Sutta (No. 33 of the Sutta Nipāta and No. 92
of the Majjhima Nikāya).
269:2 Apparently the reference is to p. 175.
Next: No. 123. Naṅgalīsa-Jātaka
No. 122.
[444] DUMMEDHA-JĀTAKA.
"Exalted station breeds a fool great woe."--This story was told by the Master
while at the Bamboo-grove, about Devadatta. For the Brethren had met together in
the Hall of Truth, and were talking of how the sight of the Buddha's perfections
and all the distinctive signs of Buddhahood 1 maddened Devadatta; and how in his
jealousy he could not bear to hear the praises of the Buddha's utter wisdom.
Entering the Hall, the Master asked what was the subject of their converse. And
when they told him, he said, "Brethren, as now, so in former times Devadatta was
maddened by hearing my praises." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when King Magadha was ruling in Rājagaha in Magadha, the
Bodhisatta was born an elephant. He was white all over and graced with all the
beauty of form described above 2. And because of his beauty the king made him
his state elephant.
One festal day the king adorned the city like a city of the devas and, mounted
on the elephant in all its trappings, made a solemn procession round the city
attended by a great retinue. And all along the route the people were moved by
the sight of that peerless elephant to exclaim, "Oh what a stately gait! what
proportions! what beauty! what grace! such a white elephant is worthy of an
universal monarch." All this praise of his
p. 270
elephant awoke the king's jealousy and he resolved to have it cast over a
precipice and killed. So he summoned the mahout and asked whether he called that
a trained elephant.
"Indeed he is well trained, sire," said the mahout. "No, he is very badly
trained." "Sire, he is well trained." [445] "If he is so well trained, can you
get him to climb to the summit of Mount Vepulla?" "Yes, sire." "Away with you,
then," said the king. And he got down from the elephant, making the mahout mount
instead, and went himself to the foot of the mountain, whilst the mahout rode on
the elephant's back up to the top of Mount Vepulla. The king with his courtiers
also climbed the mountain, and had the elephant halted at the brink of a
precipice. "Now," said he to the man, "if he is so well trained as you say, make
him stand on three legs."
And the mahout on the elephant's back just touched the animal with his goad by
way of sign and called to him, "Hi! my beauty, stand on three legs." "Now make
him stand on his two fore-legs," said the king. And the Great Being raised his
hind-legs and stood on his fore-legs alone. "Now on the hind-legs," said the
king, and the obedient elephant raised his fore-legs till he stood on his
hind-legs alone. "Now on one leg," said the king, and the elephant stood on one
leg.
Seeing that the elephant did not fall over the precipice, the king cried, "Now
if you can, make him stand in the air."
Then thought the mahout to himself, "All India cannot shew the match of this
elephant for excellence of training. Surely the king must want to make him
tumble over the precipice and meet his death." So he whispered in the elephant's
ear, "My son, the king wants you to fall over and get killed. He is not worthy
of you. If you have power to journey through the air, rise up with me upon your
back and fly through the air to Benares."
And the Great Being, endowed as he was with the marvellous powers which flow
from Merit, straightway rose up into the air. Then said the mahout, "Sire, this
elephant, possessed as he is with the marvellous powers which flow from Merit,
is too good for such a worthless fool as you: none but a wise and good king is
worthy to be his master. When those who are so worthless as you get an elephant
like this, they don't know his value, and so they lose their elephant, and all
the rest of their glory and splendour." So saying the mahout, seated on the
elephant's neck, recited this stanza:--
Exalted station breeds a fool great woe;
He proves his own and others' mortal foe.
[446] "And now, goodbye," said he to the king as he ended this rebuke; and
rising in the air, he passed to Benares and halted in mid-air
p. 271
over the royal courtyard. And there was a great stir in the city and all cried
out, "Look at the state-elephant that has come through the air for our king and
is hovering over the royal courtyard." And with all haste the news was conveyed
to the king too, who came out and said, "If your coming is for my behoof, alight
on the earth." And the Bodhisatta descended from the air. Then the mahout got
down and bowed before the king, and in answer to the king's enquiries told the
whole story of their leaving Rājagaha. "It was very good of you," said the king,
"to come here"; and in his joy he had the city decorated and the elephant
installed in his state-stable. Then he divided his kingdom into three portions,
and made over one to the Bodhisatta, one to the mahout, and one he kept himself.
And his power grew from the day of the Bodhisatta's coming till all India owned
his sovereign sway. As Emperor of India, he was charitable and did other good
works till he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying "Devadatta was in
those days the king of Magadha, Sāriputta the king of Benares, Ānanda the
mahout, and I the elephant."
[Note. Cf. Milinda-pañho, 201.]
Footnotes
269:1 See p. 2, and (e.g.) the Sela Sutta (No. 33 of the Sutta Nipāta and No. 92
of the Majjhima Nikāya).
269:2 Apparently the reference is to p. 175.
Next: No. 123. Naṅgalīsa-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Kusanali Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 121. Kusanāḷi-Jātaka
No. 121.
[441] KUSANĀḶI-JĀTAKA.
"Let great and small."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about Anātha-piṇḍika's true friend. For his acquaintances and friends and
relations came to him and tried hard to stop his intimacy with a certain man,
saying that neither in birth nor wealth was he Anātha-piṇḍika's equal. But the
great merchant replied that friendship should not depend on equality or
inequality of externals. And when he went off to his zemindary, he put this
friend in charge of his wealth. Everything came to pass as in the Kālakaṇṇi
jātaka 1. But, when in this case Anātha-piṇḍika related the danger his house had
been in, the Master said, "Layman, a friend rightly so-called is never inferior.
The standard is ability to befriend. A friend rightly so-called, though only
equal or inferior to one's self, should be held a superior, for all such friends
fail not to grapple with trouble which befalls one's self. It is your real
friend that has now saved you your wealth. So in days gone by a like real friend
saved a Sprite's mansion." Then at Anātha-piṇḍika's request, he told this story
of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a Sprite in the king's pleasaunce, and dwelt in a clump of kusa-grass. Now in
the same grounds near the king's seat there grew a beautiful Wishing Tree (also
called the Mukkhaka) with straight stem and spreading branches, which received
great favour from the king. Here dwelt one who had been a mighty deva-king and
had been reborn a Tree-sprite. And the Bodhisatta was on terms of intimate
friendship with this Tree-sprite.
Now the king's dwelling had only one pillar to support the roof
p. 268
and that pillar grew shaky. Being told of this, the king sent for carpenters and
ordered them to put in a sound pillar and make it secure. So the carpenters
[442] looked about for a tree that would do and, not finding one elsewhere, went
to the pleasaunce and saw the Mukkhaka. Then away they went back to the king.
"Well," said he, "have you found a tree that will do?" "Yes, sire," said they;
"but we don't like to fell it." "Why not?" said the king. Then they told him how
they had in vain looked everywhere for a tree and did not dare to cut down the
sacred tree. "Go and cut it down," said he, "and make the roof secure. I will
look out for another tree."
So they went away. And they took a sacrifice to the pleasaunce and offered it to
the tree, saying among themselves that they would come and cut it down next day.
Hearing their words, the Tree-sprite knew that her home would be destroyed on
the morrow, and burst into tears as she clasped her children to her breast, not
knowing whither to fly with them. Her friends, the spirits of the forest, came
and asked what the matter was. But not one of them could devise how to stay the
carpenters' hand, and all embraced her with tears and lamentations. At this
moment up came the Bodhisatta to call upon the Tree-sprite and was told the
news. "Have no fear," said the Bodhisatta cheerfully. "I will see that the tree
is not cut down. Only wait and see what I will do when the carpenters come
to-morrow."
Next day when the men came, the Bodhisatta, assuming the shape of a chameleon,
was at the tree before they were, and got in at the roots and worked his way up
till he got out among the branches, making the tree look full of holes. Then the
Bodhisatta rested among the boughs with his head rapidly moving to and fro. Up
came the carpenters; and at sight of the chameleon their leader struck the tree
with his hand, and exclaimed that the tree was rotten and that they didn't look
carefully before making their offerings the day before. And off he went full of
scorn for the great strong tree. In this way the Bodhisatta saved the
Tree-sprite's home. And when all her friends [443] and acquaintances came to see
her, she joyfully sang the praises of the Bodhisatta, as the saviour of her
home, saying, "Sprites of the Trees, for all our mighty power we knew not what
to do; while a humble Kusa-sprite had wit to save my home for me. Truly we
should choose our friends without considering whether they are superiors,
equals, or inferiors, making no distinction of rank. For each according to his
strength can help a friend in the hour of need." And she repeated this stanza
about friendship and its duties:--
Let great and small and equals, all,
Do each their best, if harm befal,
And help a friend in evil plight,
As I was helped by Kusa-sprite.
p. 269
Thus did she teach the assembled devas, adding these words, "Wherefore, such as
would escape from an evil plight must not merely consider whether a man is an
equal or a superior, but must make friends of the wise whatsoever their station
in life." And she lived her life and with the Kusa-sprite finally passed away to
fare according to her deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended the Master identified the birth by saying, "Ānanda was then the
Tree-sprite, and I the Kusa-sprite."
Footnotes
267:1 No. 83.
Next: No. 122. Dummedha-Jātaka
No. 121.
[441] KUSANĀḶI-JĀTAKA.
"Let great and small."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about Anātha-piṇḍika's true friend. For his acquaintances and friends and
relations came to him and tried hard to stop his intimacy with a certain man,
saying that neither in birth nor wealth was he Anātha-piṇḍika's equal. But the
great merchant replied that friendship should not depend on equality or
inequality of externals. And when he went off to his zemindary, he put this
friend in charge of his wealth. Everything came to pass as in the Kālakaṇṇi
jātaka 1. But, when in this case Anātha-piṇḍika related the danger his house had
been in, the Master said, "Layman, a friend rightly so-called is never inferior.
The standard is ability to befriend. A friend rightly so-called, though only
equal or inferior to one's self, should be held a superior, for all such friends
fail not to grapple with trouble which befalls one's self. It is your real
friend that has now saved you your wealth. So in days gone by a like real friend
saved a Sprite's mansion." Then at Anātha-piṇḍika's request, he told this story
of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a Sprite in the king's pleasaunce, and dwelt in a clump of kusa-grass. Now in
the same grounds near the king's seat there grew a beautiful Wishing Tree (also
called the Mukkhaka) with straight stem and spreading branches, which received
great favour from the king. Here dwelt one who had been a mighty deva-king and
had been reborn a Tree-sprite. And the Bodhisatta was on terms of intimate
friendship with this Tree-sprite.
Now the king's dwelling had only one pillar to support the roof
p. 268
and that pillar grew shaky. Being told of this, the king sent for carpenters and
ordered them to put in a sound pillar and make it secure. So the carpenters
[442] looked about for a tree that would do and, not finding one elsewhere, went
to the pleasaunce and saw the Mukkhaka. Then away they went back to the king.
"Well," said he, "have you found a tree that will do?" "Yes, sire," said they;
"but we don't like to fell it." "Why not?" said the king. Then they told him how
they had in vain looked everywhere for a tree and did not dare to cut down the
sacred tree. "Go and cut it down," said he, "and make the roof secure. I will
look out for another tree."
So they went away. And they took a sacrifice to the pleasaunce and offered it to
the tree, saying among themselves that they would come and cut it down next day.
Hearing their words, the Tree-sprite knew that her home would be destroyed on
the morrow, and burst into tears as she clasped her children to her breast, not
knowing whither to fly with them. Her friends, the spirits of the forest, came
and asked what the matter was. But not one of them could devise how to stay the
carpenters' hand, and all embraced her with tears and lamentations. At this
moment up came the Bodhisatta to call upon the Tree-sprite and was told the
news. "Have no fear," said the Bodhisatta cheerfully. "I will see that the tree
is not cut down. Only wait and see what I will do when the carpenters come
to-morrow."
Next day when the men came, the Bodhisatta, assuming the shape of a chameleon,
was at the tree before they were, and got in at the roots and worked his way up
till he got out among the branches, making the tree look full of holes. Then the
Bodhisatta rested among the boughs with his head rapidly moving to and fro. Up
came the carpenters; and at sight of the chameleon their leader struck the tree
with his hand, and exclaimed that the tree was rotten and that they didn't look
carefully before making their offerings the day before. And off he went full of
scorn for the great strong tree. In this way the Bodhisatta saved the
Tree-sprite's home. And when all her friends [443] and acquaintances came to see
her, she joyfully sang the praises of the Bodhisatta, as the saviour of her
home, saying, "Sprites of the Trees, for all our mighty power we knew not what
to do; while a humble Kusa-sprite had wit to save my home for me. Truly we
should choose our friends without considering whether they are superiors,
equals, or inferiors, making no distinction of rank. For each according to his
strength can help a friend in the hour of need." And she repeated this stanza
about friendship and its duties:--
Let great and small and equals, all,
Do each their best, if harm befal,
And help a friend in evil plight,
As I was helped by Kusa-sprite.
p. 269
Thus did she teach the assembled devas, adding these words, "Wherefore, such as
would escape from an evil plight must not merely consider whether a man is an
equal or a superior, but must make friends of the wise whatsoever their station
in life." And she lived her life and with the Kusa-sprite finally passed away to
fare according to her deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended the Master identified the birth by saying, "Ānanda was then the
Tree-sprite, and I the Kusa-sprite."
Footnotes
267:1 No. 83.
Next: No. 122. Dummedha-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Bandhanamokkha Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 120. Bandhanamokkha-Jātaka
No. 120.
[437] BANDHANAMOKKHA-JĀTAKA.
"Whilst folly's speech"--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about the brahmin-girl Ciñcā, whose history will be given in the Twelfth Book in
the Mahāpaduma-jātaka 1. On this occasion the Master said, "Brethren, this is
not the first time Ciñcā has laid false accusations against me. She did the like
in other times." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into the chaplain's family, and on his father's death succeeded to the
chaplaincy.
Now the king promised to grant whatsoever boon his queen should ask of him, and
she said,--"The boon I ask is an easy one; henceforth you must not look on any
other woman with eyes of love." At first he refused, but, wearied by her
unceasing importunity, was obliged to give way at last. And from that day
forward he never cast a glance of love at any one of his sixteen thousand
nautch-girls.
Now a disturbance arose on the borders of his kingdom, and after two or three
engagements with the robbers, the troops there sent a letter to the king saying
that they were unable to carry the matter through. Then the king was anxious to
go in person and assembled a mighty host. And he said to his wife, "Dear one, I
go to the frontier, where battles will rage ending in victory or defeat. The
camp is no place for a woman, and you must stay behind here."
"I can't stop if you go, my lord," said she. But finding the king firm in his
decision she made the following request instead,--"Every league,
p. 265
send a messenger to enquire how I fare." And the king promised to do so.
Accordingly, when he marched out with his host, leaving the Bodhisatta in the
city, the king sent back a messenger at the end of every league to let the queen
know how he was, and to find out how she fared. Of each man as he came she asked
what brought him back. And on receiving the answer that he was come to learn how
she fared, they queen beckoned the messenger to her and sinned with him. Now the
king journeyed two and thirty leagues and sent two and thirty messengers [438],
and the queen sinned with them all. And when he had pacified the frontier, to
the great joy of the inhabitants, he started on his homeward journey,
despatching a second series of thirty-two messengers. And the queen misbehaved
with each one of these, as before. Halting his victorious army near the city,
the king sent a letter to the Bodhisatta to prepare the city for his entry. The
preparations in the city were done, and the Bodhisatta was preparing the palace
for the king's arrival, when he came to the queen's apartments. The sight of his
great beauty so moved the queen that she called to him to satisfy her lust. But
the Bodhisatta pleaded with her, urging the king's honour, and protesting that
he shrank from all sin and would not do as she wished. "No thoughts of the king
frightened sixty-four of the king's messengers," said she; "and will you for the
king's sake fear to do my will?"
Said the Bodhisatta, "Had these messengers thought with me, they would not have
acted thus. As for me that know the right, I will not commit this sin."
"Don't talk nonsense," said she. "If you refuse, I will have your head chopped
off."
"So be it. Cut off my head in this or in a hundred thousand existences; yet will
I not do your bidding."
"All right; I will see," said the queen menacingly. And retiring to her chamber,
she scratched herself, put oil on her limbs, clad herself in dirty clothes and
feigned to be ill. Then she sent for her slaves and bade them tell the king,
when he should ask after her, that she was ill.
Meantime the Bodhisatta had gone to meet the king, who, after marching round the
city in solemn procession, entered his palace. Not seeing the queen, he asked
where she was, and was told that she was ill. Entering the royal bed-chamber,
the king caressed the queen and asked what ailed her. She was silent; but when
the king asked the third time, she looked at him and said, "Though my lord the
king still lives, yet poor women like me have to own a master."
"What do you mean?"
"The chaplain whom you left to watch over the city came here on pretence of
seeing after the palace; and because I would not yield to his will, [439] he
beat me to his heart's content and went off."
p. 266
Then the king fumed with rage, like the crackling of salt or sugar in the fire;
and he rushed from the chamber. Calling his servants, he bade them bind the
chaplain with his hands behind him, like one condemned to death, and cut off his
head at the place of execution. So away they hurried and bound the Bodhisatta.
And the drum was beaten to announce the execution.
Thought the Bodhisatta, "Doubtless that wicked queen has already poisoned the
king's mind against me, and now must I save myself from this peril." So he said
to his captors, "Bring me into the king's presence before you slay me." "Why
so?" said they. "Because, as the king's servant, I have toiled greatly on the
king's business, and know where great treasures are hidden which I have
discovered. If I am not brought before the king, all this wealth will be lost.
So lead me to him, and then do your duty."
Accordingly, they brought him before the king, who asked why reverence had not
restrained him from such wickedness.
"Sire," answered the Bodhisatta, "I was born a brahmin, and have never taken the
life so much as of an emmet or ant. I have never taken what was not my own, even
to a blade of grass. Never have I looked with lustful eyes upon another man's
wife. Not even in jest have I spoken falsely, and not a drop of strong drink
have I ever drunk. Innocent am I, sire; but that wicked woman took me lustfully
by the hand, and, being rebuffed, threatened me, nor did she retire to her
chamber before she had told me her secret evil-doing. For there were sixty-four
messengers who came with letters from you to the queen. Send for these men and
ask each whether he did as the queen bade him or not." Then the king had the
sixty-four men bound and sent for the queen. And she confessed to having had
guilty converse with the men. Then the king ordered off all the sixty-four to be
beheaded.
But at this point [440] the Bodhisatta cried out, "Nay, sire, the men are not to
blame; for they were constrained by the queen. Wherefore pardon them. And as for
the queen:--she is not to blame, for the passions of women are insatiate, and
she does but act according to her inborn nature. Wherefore, pardon her also, O
king."
Upon this entreaty the king was merciful, and so the Bodhisatta saved the lives
of the queen and the sixty-four men, and he gave them each a place to dwell in.
Then the Bodhisatta came to the king and said, "Sire, the baseless accusations
of folly put the wise in unmerited bonds, but the words of the wise released the
foolish. Thus folly wrongfully binds, and wisdom sets free from bonds." So
saying, he uttered this stanza:--
Whilst folly's speech doth bind unrighteously,
At wisdom's word the justly bound go free.
p. 267
When he had taught the king the Truth in these verses, he exclaimed, "All this
trouble sprang from my living a lay life. I must change my mode of life, and
crave your permission, sire, to give up the world." And with the king's
permission he gave up the world and quitted his tearful relations and his great
wealth to become a recluse. His dwelling was in the Himalayas, and there he won
the Higher Knowledges and the Attainments and became destined to rebirth in the
Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
His teaching ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Ciñcā was the
wicked queen of those days, Ānanda the king, and I his chaplain."
Footnotes
264:1 No. 472. Cf. note, page 143.
Next: No. 121. Kusanāḷi-Jātaka
No. 120.
[437] BANDHANAMOKKHA-JĀTAKA.
"Whilst folly's speech"--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about the brahmin-girl Ciñcā, whose history will be given in the Twelfth Book in
the Mahāpaduma-jātaka 1. On this occasion the Master said, "Brethren, this is
not the first time Ciñcā has laid false accusations against me. She did the like
in other times." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into the chaplain's family, and on his father's death succeeded to the
chaplaincy.
Now the king promised to grant whatsoever boon his queen should ask of him, and
she said,--"The boon I ask is an easy one; henceforth you must not look on any
other woman with eyes of love." At first he refused, but, wearied by her
unceasing importunity, was obliged to give way at last. And from that day
forward he never cast a glance of love at any one of his sixteen thousand
nautch-girls.
Now a disturbance arose on the borders of his kingdom, and after two or three
engagements with the robbers, the troops there sent a letter to the king saying
that they were unable to carry the matter through. Then the king was anxious to
go in person and assembled a mighty host. And he said to his wife, "Dear one, I
go to the frontier, where battles will rage ending in victory or defeat. The
camp is no place for a woman, and you must stay behind here."
"I can't stop if you go, my lord," said she. But finding the king firm in his
decision she made the following request instead,--"Every league,
p. 265
send a messenger to enquire how I fare." And the king promised to do so.
Accordingly, when he marched out with his host, leaving the Bodhisatta in the
city, the king sent back a messenger at the end of every league to let the queen
know how he was, and to find out how she fared. Of each man as he came she asked
what brought him back. And on receiving the answer that he was come to learn how
she fared, they queen beckoned the messenger to her and sinned with him. Now the
king journeyed two and thirty leagues and sent two and thirty messengers [438],
and the queen sinned with them all. And when he had pacified the frontier, to
the great joy of the inhabitants, he started on his homeward journey,
despatching a second series of thirty-two messengers. And the queen misbehaved
with each one of these, as before. Halting his victorious army near the city,
the king sent a letter to the Bodhisatta to prepare the city for his entry. The
preparations in the city were done, and the Bodhisatta was preparing the palace
for the king's arrival, when he came to the queen's apartments. The sight of his
great beauty so moved the queen that she called to him to satisfy her lust. But
the Bodhisatta pleaded with her, urging the king's honour, and protesting that
he shrank from all sin and would not do as she wished. "No thoughts of the king
frightened sixty-four of the king's messengers," said she; "and will you for the
king's sake fear to do my will?"
Said the Bodhisatta, "Had these messengers thought with me, they would not have
acted thus. As for me that know the right, I will not commit this sin."
"Don't talk nonsense," said she. "If you refuse, I will have your head chopped
off."
"So be it. Cut off my head in this or in a hundred thousand existences; yet will
I not do your bidding."
"All right; I will see," said the queen menacingly. And retiring to her chamber,
she scratched herself, put oil on her limbs, clad herself in dirty clothes and
feigned to be ill. Then she sent for her slaves and bade them tell the king,
when he should ask after her, that she was ill.
Meantime the Bodhisatta had gone to meet the king, who, after marching round the
city in solemn procession, entered his palace. Not seeing the queen, he asked
where she was, and was told that she was ill. Entering the royal bed-chamber,
the king caressed the queen and asked what ailed her. She was silent; but when
the king asked the third time, she looked at him and said, "Though my lord the
king still lives, yet poor women like me have to own a master."
"What do you mean?"
"The chaplain whom you left to watch over the city came here on pretence of
seeing after the palace; and because I would not yield to his will, [439] he
beat me to his heart's content and went off."
p. 266
Then the king fumed with rage, like the crackling of salt or sugar in the fire;
and he rushed from the chamber. Calling his servants, he bade them bind the
chaplain with his hands behind him, like one condemned to death, and cut off his
head at the place of execution. So away they hurried and bound the Bodhisatta.
And the drum was beaten to announce the execution.
Thought the Bodhisatta, "Doubtless that wicked queen has already poisoned the
king's mind against me, and now must I save myself from this peril." So he said
to his captors, "Bring me into the king's presence before you slay me." "Why
so?" said they. "Because, as the king's servant, I have toiled greatly on the
king's business, and know where great treasures are hidden which I have
discovered. If I am not brought before the king, all this wealth will be lost.
So lead me to him, and then do your duty."
Accordingly, they brought him before the king, who asked why reverence had not
restrained him from such wickedness.
"Sire," answered the Bodhisatta, "I was born a brahmin, and have never taken the
life so much as of an emmet or ant. I have never taken what was not my own, even
to a blade of grass. Never have I looked with lustful eyes upon another man's
wife. Not even in jest have I spoken falsely, and not a drop of strong drink
have I ever drunk. Innocent am I, sire; but that wicked woman took me lustfully
by the hand, and, being rebuffed, threatened me, nor did she retire to her
chamber before she had told me her secret evil-doing. For there were sixty-four
messengers who came with letters from you to the queen. Send for these men and
ask each whether he did as the queen bade him or not." Then the king had the
sixty-four men bound and sent for the queen. And she confessed to having had
guilty converse with the men. Then the king ordered off all the sixty-four to be
beheaded.
But at this point [440] the Bodhisatta cried out, "Nay, sire, the men are not to
blame; for they were constrained by the queen. Wherefore pardon them. And as for
the queen:--she is not to blame, for the passions of women are insatiate, and
she does but act according to her inborn nature. Wherefore, pardon her also, O
king."
Upon this entreaty the king was merciful, and so the Bodhisatta saved the lives
of the queen and the sixty-four men, and he gave them each a place to dwell in.
Then the Bodhisatta came to the king and said, "Sire, the baseless accusations
of folly put the wise in unmerited bonds, but the words of the wise released the
foolish. Thus folly wrongfully binds, and wisdom sets free from bonds." So
saying, he uttered this stanza:--
Whilst folly's speech doth bind unrighteously,
At wisdom's word the justly bound go free.
p. 267
When he had taught the king the Truth in these verses, he exclaimed, "All this
trouble sprang from my living a lay life. I must change my mode of life, and
crave your permission, sire, to give up the world." And with the king's
permission he gave up the world and quitted his tearful relations and his great
wealth to become a recluse. His dwelling was in the Himalayas, and there he won
the Higher Knowledges and the Attainments and became destined to rebirth in the
Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
His teaching ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Ciñcā was the
wicked queen of those days, Ānanda the king, and I his chaplain."
Footnotes
264:1 No. 472. Cf. note, page 143.
Next: No. 121. Kusanāḷi-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Akalaravi Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 119. Akālarāvi-Jātaka
p. 263
No. 119.
AKĀLARĀVI-JĀTAKA.
"No parents trained."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a Brother who used to be noisy at wrong seasons. He is said to have come
of a good Sāvatthi family and to have given up the world for the Truth, but to
have neglected his duties and despised instruction. He never took count of the
hours for duties, for ministry or for reciting the texts. Throughout the three
watches of the night, as well as the hours of waking, he was never quiet;--so
that the other Brethren could not get a wink of sleep. Accordingly, the Brethren
in the Hall of Truth censured his conduct. Entering the Hall and learning on
enquiry what they were talking about, the Master said, "Brethren, as now, so in
past times, this Brother was noisy out of season, and for his unseasonable
conduct was strangled." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
[436] Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born into a northern brahmin family, and when he grew up, learned all
knowledge and became a teacher of world-wide fame with five hundred young
brahmins studying under him. Now these young brahmins had a cock who crowed
betimes and roused them to their studies. And this cock died. So they looked all
about for another, and one of their number, when picking up firewood in the
cemetery-grove, saw a cock there which he brought home and kept in a coop. But,
as this second cock had been bred in a cemetery, he had no knowledge of times
and seasons, and used to crow casually,--at midnight as well as at daybreak.
Roused by his crowing at midnight, the young brahmins fell to their studies; by
dawn they were tired out and could not for sleepiness keep their attention on
the subject; and when he fell a-crowing in broad day they did not get a chance
of quiet for repeating their lesson. And 'as it was the cock's crowing both at
midnight and by day which had brought their studies to a standstill, they took
the bird and wrung his neck. Then they told their teacher that they had killed
the cock that crowed in and out of season.
Said their teacher, for their edification, "It was his bad bringing up that
brought this cock to his end." So saying, he uttered this stanza:--
No parents trained, no teacher taught this bird:
Both in and out of season was he heard.
p. 264
Such was the Bodhisatta's teaching on the matter; and when he had lived his
allotted time on earth, he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth as follows,--"This Brother was
the cock of those times, who did not know when not to crow; my disciples were
the young brahmins; and I their teacher."
Next: No. 120. Bandhanamokkha-Jātaka
p. 263
No. 119.
AKĀLARĀVI-JĀTAKA.
"No parents trained."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about a Brother who used to be noisy at wrong seasons. He is said to have come
of a good Sāvatthi family and to have given up the world for the Truth, but to
have neglected his duties and despised instruction. He never took count of the
hours for duties, for ministry or for reciting the texts. Throughout the three
watches of the night, as well as the hours of waking, he was never quiet;--so
that the other Brethren could not get a wink of sleep. Accordingly, the Brethren
in the Hall of Truth censured his conduct. Entering the Hall and learning on
enquiry what they were talking about, the Master said, "Brethren, as now, so in
past times, this Brother was noisy out of season, and for his unseasonable
conduct was strangled." So saying he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
[436] Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta
was born into a northern brahmin family, and when he grew up, learned all
knowledge and became a teacher of world-wide fame with five hundred young
brahmins studying under him. Now these young brahmins had a cock who crowed
betimes and roused them to their studies. And this cock died. So they looked all
about for another, and one of their number, when picking up firewood in the
cemetery-grove, saw a cock there which he brought home and kept in a coop. But,
as this second cock had been bred in a cemetery, he had no knowledge of times
and seasons, and used to crow casually,--at midnight as well as at daybreak.
Roused by his crowing at midnight, the young brahmins fell to their studies; by
dawn they were tired out and could not for sleepiness keep their attention on
the subject; and when he fell a-crowing in broad day they did not get a chance
of quiet for repeating their lesson. And 'as it was the cock's crowing both at
midnight and by day which had brought their studies to a standstill, they took
the bird and wrung his neck. Then they told their teacher that they had killed
the cock that crowed in and out of season.
Said their teacher, for their edification, "It was his bad bringing up that
brought this cock to his end." So saying, he uttered this stanza:--
No parents trained, no teacher taught this bird:
Both in and out of season was he heard.
p. 264
Such was the Bodhisatta's teaching on the matter; and when he had lived his
allotted time on earth, he passed away to fare according to his deserts.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth as follows,--"This Brother was
the cock of those times, who did not know when not to crow; my disciples were
the young brahmins; and I their teacher."
Next: No. 120. Bandhanamokkha-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Vattaka Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 118. Vaṭṭaka-Jātaka
No. 118.
VAṬṬAKA-JĀTAKA.
"The thoughtless man."--This story the Master told while at Jetavana, about the
son of Over-Treasurer. This Over-Treasurer is said to have been a very rich man
of Sāvatthi, and his wife became the mother of a righteous being from the realm
of Brahma angels, who grew up as lovely as Brahma. [433] Now one day when the
Kattikā festival had been proclaimed in Sāvatthi, the whole city gave itself up
to the festivities. His companions, sons of other rich men, had all got wives,
but Over-Treasurer's son had lived so long in the Brahma Realm that he was
purged from passion. His companions plotted together to get him too a sweetheart
and make him keep the feast with them. So going to him they said, "Dear friend,
it is the great feast of Kattikā.. Can't we get a sweetheart for you too, and
have a good time together?" At last his friends picked out a charming girl and
decked her out, and left her at his house, with directions to make her way to
his chamber. But when she entered the room, not a look or a word did she get
from the young merchant. Piqued at this slight to her beauty, she put forth all
her graces and feminine blandishments, smiling meantime so as just to shew her
pretty teeth. The sight of her teeth suggested bones, and his mind was filled
with the idea of bones, till the girl's whole body seemed to him nothing but a
chain of bones. Then he gave her money and bade her begone. But as she came out
of the house a nobleman saw her in the street and gave her a present to
accompany him home.
At the end of seven days the festival was over, and the girl's mother, seeing
her daughter did not come back, went to the young merchant's friends and asked
where she was, and they in turn asked the young merchant. And he said he had
paid her and sent her packing as soon as he saw her.
Then the girl's mother insisted on having her daughter restored to her, and
brought the young man before the king, who proceeded to examine into the matter.
In answer to the king's questions, the young man admitted that the girl had been
passed on to him, but said he had no knowledge of her whereabouts, and no means
of producing her. Then said the king, "If he fails to produce the girl, execute
him." So the young man was forthwith hauled off with his hands tied behind his
back to be executed, and the whole city was in an uproar at the news. With hands
laid on their breasts the people followed after him with lamentations, saying,
"What means this, sir? You suffer unjustly."
Then thought the young man [434] "All this sorrow has befallen me because I was
living a lay life. If I can only escape this danger, I will give up the world
and join the Brotherhood of the great Gotama, the All-Enlightened One."
Now the girl herself heard the uproar and asked what it meant. Being told, she
ran swiftly out, crying, "Stand aside, sirs! let me pass! let the king's men see
me." As soon as she had thus shown herself, she was handed over to her mother by
the king's men, who set the young man free and went their way.
p. 262
Surrounded by his friends, the son of Over-Treasurer went down to the river and
bathed. Returning home, he breakfasted and let his parents know his resolve to
give up the world. Then taking cloth for his ascetic's robe, and followed by a
great crowd, he sought out the Master and with due salutation asked to be
admitted to the Brotherhood. A novice first, and afterwards a full Brother, he
meditated on the idea of Bondage till he gained Insight, and not long afterwards
won Arahatship.
Now one day in the Hall of Truth the assembled Brethren talked of his virtues,
recalling how in the hour of danger he had recognized the excellence of the
Truth, and, wisely resolving to give up the world for its sake, had won that
highest fruit which is Arahatship. And as they talked, the Master entered, and,
on his asking, was told what was the subject of their converse. Whereon he
declared to them that, like the son of Over-Treasurer, the wise of former times,
by taking thought in the hour of peril, had escaped death. So saying, he told
this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Ḅenares, the Bodhisatta by
change of existence was born a quail. Now in those days there was a
quail-catcher who used to catch numbers of these birds in the forest and take
them home to fatten. When they were fat, he used to sell them to people and so
make a living. And one day he caught the Bodhisatta and brought him home with a
number of other quails. Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "If I take the food
and drink he gives me, I shall be sold; whilst if I don't eat it, I shall get so
thin, that people will notice it and pass me over, with the result that I shall
be safe. This, then, is what I must do." So he fasted and fasted till he got so
thin that he was nothing but skin and bone, and not a soul would have him at any
price. Having disposed [435] of every one of his birds except the Bodhisatta,
the bird-catcher took the Bodhisatta out of the cage and laid him on the palms
of his hand to see what ailed the bird. Watching when the man was off his guard,
the Bodhisatta spread his wings and flew off to the forest. Seeing him return,
the other quails asked what had become of him so long, and where he had been.
Then he told them he had been caught by a fowler, and, being asked how he had
escaped, replied, that it was by a device he had thought of, namely, not to take
either the food or the drink which the fowler supplied. So saying, he uttered
this stanza:--
The thoughtless man no profit reaps.--But see
Thought's fruit in me, from death and bondage free.
In this manner did the Bodhisatta speak of what he had done.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the quail
that escaped death in those days."
Next: No. 119. Akālarāvi-Jātaka
No. 118.
VAṬṬAKA-JĀTAKA.
"The thoughtless man."--This story the Master told while at Jetavana, about the
son of Over-Treasurer. This Over-Treasurer is said to have been a very rich man
of Sāvatthi, and his wife became the mother of a righteous being from the realm
of Brahma angels, who grew up as lovely as Brahma. [433] Now one day when the
Kattikā festival had been proclaimed in Sāvatthi, the whole city gave itself up
to the festivities. His companions, sons of other rich men, had all got wives,
but Over-Treasurer's son had lived so long in the Brahma Realm that he was
purged from passion. His companions plotted together to get him too a sweetheart
and make him keep the feast with them. So going to him they said, "Dear friend,
it is the great feast of Kattikā.. Can't we get a sweetheart for you too, and
have a good time together?" At last his friends picked out a charming girl and
decked her out, and left her at his house, with directions to make her way to
his chamber. But when she entered the room, not a look or a word did she get
from the young merchant. Piqued at this slight to her beauty, she put forth all
her graces and feminine blandishments, smiling meantime so as just to shew her
pretty teeth. The sight of her teeth suggested bones, and his mind was filled
with the idea of bones, till the girl's whole body seemed to him nothing but a
chain of bones. Then he gave her money and bade her begone. But as she came out
of the house a nobleman saw her in the street and gave her a present to
accompany him home.
At the end of seven days the festival was over, and the girl's mother, seeing
her daughter did not come back, went to the young merchant's friends and asked
where she was, and they in turn asked the young merchant. And he said he had
paid her and sent her packing as soon as he saw her.
Then the girl's mother insisted on having her daughter restored to her, and
brought the young man before the king, who proceeded to examine into the matter.
In answer to the king's questions, the young man admitted that the girl had been
passed on to him, but said he had no knowledge of her whereabouts, and no means
of producing her. Then said the king, "If he fails to produce the girl, execute
him." So the young man was forthwith hauled off with his hands tied behind his
back to be executed, and the whole city was in an uproar at the news. With hands
laid on their breasts the people followed after him with lamentations, saying,
"What means this, sir? You suffer unjustly."
Then thought the young man [434] "All this sorrow has befallen me because I was
living a lay life. If I can only escape this danger, I will give up the world
and join the Brotherhood of the great Gotama, the All-Enlightened One."
Now the girl herself heard the uproar and asked what it meant. Being told, she
ran swiftly out, crying, "Stand aside, sirs! let me pass! let the king's men see
me." As soon as she had thus shown herself, she was handed over to her mother by
the king's men, who set the young man free and went their way.
p. 262
Surrounded by his friends, the son of Over-Treasurer went down to the river and
bathed. Returning home, he breakfasted and let his parents know his resolve to
give up the world. Then taking cloth for his ascetic's robe, and followed by a
great crowd, he sought out the Master and with due salutation asked to be
admitted to the Brotherhood. A novice first, and afterwards a full Brother, he
meditated on the idea of Bondage till he gained Insight, and not long afterwards
won Arahatship.
Now one day in the Hall of Truth the assembled Brethren talked of his virtues,
recalling how in the hour of danger he had recognized the excellence of the
Truth, and, wisely resolving to give up the world for its sake, had won that
highest fruit which is Arahatship. And as they talked, the Master entered, and,
on his asking, was told what was the subject of their converse. Whereon he
declared to them that, like the son of Over-Treasurer, the wise of former times,
by taking thought in the hour of peril, had escaped death. So saying, he told
this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Ḅenares, the Bodhisatta by
change of existence was born a quail. Now in those days there was a
quail-catcher who used to catch numbers of these birds in the forest and take
them home to fatten. When they were fat, he used to sell them to people and so
make a living. And one day he caught the Bodhisatta and brought him home with a
number of other quails. Thought the Bodhisatta to himself, "If I take the food
and drink he gives me, I shall be sold; whilst if I don't eat it, I shall get so
thin, that people will notice it and pass me over, with the result that I shall
be safe. This, then, is what I must do." So he fasted and fasted till he got so
thin that he was nothing but skin and bone, and not a soul would have him at any
price. Having disposed [435] of every one of his birds except the Bodhisatta,
the bird-catcher took the Bodhisatta out of the cage and laid him on the palms
of his hand to see what ailed the bird. Watching when the man was off his guard,
the Bodhisatta spread his wings and flew off to the forest. Seeing him return,
the other quails asked what had become of him so long, and where he had been.
Then he told them he had been caught by a fowler, and, being asked how he had
escaped, replied, that it was by a device he had thought of, namely, not to take
either the food or the drink which the fowler supplied. So saying, he uttered
this stanza:--
The thoughtless man no profit reaps.--But see
Thought's fruit in me, from death and bondage free.
In this manner did the Bodhisatta speak of what he had done.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "I was the quail
that escaped death in those days."
Next: No. 119. Akālarāvi-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Tittira Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 117. Tittira-Jātaka
p. 260
No. 117.
TITTIRA-JĀTAKA.
"As died the partridge."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about Kokālika, whose story will be found in the Thirteenth Book in the
Takkāriya Jātaka 1.
Said the Master, "As now, Brethren, so likewise in former times, Kokālika's
tongue has worked his destruction."
So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in the North country. When he grew up, he received a complete
education at Takkasilā, and, renouncing Lusts, gave up the world to become a
hermit. He won the Five Knowledges and the Eight Attainments, and all the
recluses of the Himalayas to the number of five hundred assembled together and
followed him as their master.
Insight was his as he dwelt amid his disciples in the Himalayas.
In those days there was an ascetic suffering from jaundice who was chopping wood
with an axe. And a chattering Brother came and sat by him, and directed his
work, bidding him give here a chop and there a chop, [432] till the jaundiced
ascetic lost his temper. In a rage he cried, "Who are you to teach me how to
chop wood?" and lifting up his keen-edged axe stretched the other dead with a
single blow. And the Bodhisatta had the body buried.
Now on an ant-hill hard by the hermitage there dwelt a partridge which early and
late was always piping on the top of the ant-hill. Recognising the note of a
partridge, a sportsman killed the bird and took it off with him. Missing the
bird's note, the Bodhisatta asked the hermits why they did not hear their
neighbour the partridge now. Then they told him what had happened, and he linked
the two events together in this stanza:--
As died the partridge for her clamorous cry,
So prate and chatter doomed this fool to die.
Having developed within himself the four Perfect States, the Bodhisatta thus
became destined to rebirth in the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
p. 261
Said the Master, "Brethren, as now, so likewise in former days Kokālika's tongue
has worked his destruction." And at the close of this lesson he identified the
Birth by saying, "Kokālika was the meddling ascetic of those days, my followers
the band of hermits, and I their master."
Footnotes
260:1 No. 481. Kokālika was one of Devadatta's schismatics.
Next: No. 118. Vaṭṭaka-Jātaka
p. 260
No. 117.
TITTIRA-JĀTAKA.
"As died the partridge."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana,
about Kokālika, whose story will be found in the Thirteenth Book in the
Takkāriya Jātaka 1.
Said the Master, "As now, Brethren, so likewise in former times, Kokālika's
tongue has worked his destruction."
So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a brahmin in the North country. When he grew up, he received a complete
education at Takkasilā, and, renouncing Lusts, gave up the world to become a
hermit. He won the Five Knowledges and the Eight Attainments, and all the
recluses of the Himalayas to the number of five hundred assembled together and
followed him as their master.
Insight was his as he dwelt amid his disciples in the Himalayas.
In those days there was an ascetic suffering from jaundice who was chopping wood
with an axe. And a chattering Brother came and sat by him, and directed his
work, bidding him give here a chop and there a chop, [432] till the jaundiced
ascetic lost his temper. In a rage he cried, "Who are you to teach me how to
chop wood?" and lifting up his keen-edged axe stretched the other dead with a
single blow. And the Bodhisatta had the body buried.
Now on an ant-hill hard by the hermitage there dwelt a partridge which early and
late was always piping on the top of the ant-hill. Recognising the note of a
partridge, a sportsman killed the bird and took it off with him. Missing the
bird's note, the Bodhisatta asked the hermits why they did not hear their
neighbour the partridge now. Then they told him what had happened, and he linked
the two events together in this stanza:--
As died the partridge for her clamorous cry,
So prate and chatter doomed this fool to die.
Having developed within himself the four Perfect States, the Bodhisatta thus
became destined to rebirth in the Brahma Realm.
_____________________________
p. 261
Said the Master, "Brethren, as now, so likewise in former days Kokālika's tongue
has worked his destruction." And at the close of this lesson he identified the
Birth by saying, "Kokālika was the meddling ascetic of those days, my followers
the band of hermits, and I their master."
Footnotes
260:1 No. 481. Kokālika was one of Devadatta's schismatics.
Next: No. 118. Vaṭṭaka-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Dubbaca Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 116. Dubbaca-Jātaka
p. 259
No. 116.
DUBBACA-JĀTAKA.
"Too much."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about an
unruly Brother whose-own story will be given in the Ninth Book in the
Gijjha-jātaka 1.
The Master rebuked him in these words:--"As now, so in former days wert thou
unruly, Brother, disregarding the counsels of the wise and good. Wherefore, by a
javelin thou didst die." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into an acrobat's family. When he grew up, he was a very wise and clever fellow.
From another acrobat he learned the javelin dance, and with his master used to
travel about exhibiting his skill. Now this master of his knew the four javelin
dance but not the five; but one day when performing in a certain village, he,
being in liquor, had five javelins set up in a row and gave out that he would
dance through the lot.
Said the Bodhisatta, "You can't manage all five javelins, master. Have one taken
away. If you try the five, you will be run through by the fifth and die."
"Then you don't know what I can do when I try," said the drunken fellow; and
paying no heed to the Bodhisatta's words, he danced through four of the javelins
only to impale himself on the fifth like the Bassia flower on its stalk. And
there he lay groaning. Said the Bodhisatta, "This calamity comes of your
disregarding the counsels of the wise and good"; and he uttered this stanza:--
[431] Too much--though sore against my will--you tried;
Clearing the four, upon the fifth you died.
So saying, he lifted his master from off the javelin point and duly performed
the last offices to his body.
_____________________________
His story done, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This unruly Brother
was the master of those days, and I the pupil."
Footnotes
259:1 No. 427.
Next: No. 117. Tittira-Jātaka
p. 259
No. 116.
DUBBACA-JĀTAKA.
"Too much."--This story was told by the Master while at Jetavana, about an
unruly Brother whose-own story will be given in the Ninth Book in the
Gijjha-jātaka 1.
The Master rebuked him in these words:--"As now, so in former days wert thou
unruly, Brother, disregarding the counsels of the wise and good. Wherefore, by a
javelin thou didst die." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
into an acrobat's family. When he grew up, he was a very wise and clever fellow.
From another acrobat he learned the javelin dance, and with his master used to
travel about exhibiting his skill. Now this master of his knew the four javelin
dance but not the five; but one day when performing in a certain village, he,
being in liquor, had five javelins set up in a row and gave out that he would
dance through the lot.
Said the Bodhisatta, "You can't manage all five javelins, master. Have one taken
away. If you try the five, you will be run through by the fifth and die."
"Then you don't know what I can do when I try," said the drunken fellow; and
paying no heed to the Bodhisatta's words, he danced through four of the javelins
only to impale himself on the fifth like the Bassia flower on its stalk. And
there he lay groaning. Said the Bodhisatta, "This calamity comes of your
disregarding the counsels of the wise and good"; and he uttered this stanza:--
[431] Too much--though sore against my will--you tried;
Clearing the four, upon the fifth you died.
So saying, he lifted his master from off the javelin point and duly performed
the last offices to his body.
_____________________________
His story done, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "This unruly Brother
was the master of those days, and I the pupil."
Footnotes
259:1 No. 427.
Next: No. 117. Tittira-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Anusasika Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 115. Anusāsika-Jātaka
No. 115.
ANUSĀSIKA-JĀTAKA.
"The greed-denouncing bird."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about a Sister who gave a warning to others. For we are told that she
came of a good Sāvatthi family, but that from the day of her entrance into the
Order she failed of her duty and was filled with a gluttonous spirit; she used
to seek alms in quarters of the city unvisited by other Sisters. And dainty food
was given her there. Now her gluttony made her afraid that other Sisters might
go there too and take away from her part of the food. Casting about for a device
to stop them from going and to keep everything to herself, she warned
p. 258
the other Sisters that it was a dangerous quarter, troubled by a fierce
elephant, a fierce horse, and a fierce dog. And she besought them not to go
there for alms. Accordingly not a single Sister gave so much as a look in that
direction.
Now one day on her way through this district for alms, as she was hurrying into
a house there, a fierce ram butted her with such violence as to break her leg.
Up ran the people and set her leg and brought her on a litter to the convent of
the Sisterhood. And all the Sisters tauntingly said her broken leg came of her
going where she had warned them not to go.
Not long after the Brotherhood came to hear of this; and one day in the Hall of
Truth [429] the Brethren spoke of how this sister had got her leg broken by a
fierce ram in a quarter of the city against which she had warned the other
Sisters; and they condemned her conduct. Entering the Hall at this moment, the
Master asked, and was told, what they were discussing. "As now, Brethren," said
he, "so too in a past time she gave warnings which she did not follow herself;
and then as now she came to harm." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a bird, and growing up became king of the birds and came to the Himalayas with
thousands of birds in his train. During their stay in that place, a certain
fierce bird used to go in quest of food along a highway where she found rice,
beans, and other grain dropped by passing waggons. Casting about how best-to
keep the others from coming there too, she addressed them as follows:--"The
highway is full of peril. Along it go elephants and horses, waggons drawn by
fierce oxen, and such like dangerous things. And as it is impossible to take
wing on the instant, don't go there at all." And because of her warning, the
other birds dubbed her 'Warner'.
Now one day when she was feeding along the highway she heard the sound of a
carriage coming swiftly along the road, and turned her head to look at it. "Oh
it's quite a long way off," thought she and went on as before. Up swift as the
wind came the carriage, and before she could rise, the wheel had crushed her and
whirled on its way. At the muster, the King marked her absence and ordered
search to be made for her. And at last she was found cut in two on the highway
and the news was brought to the king. "Through not following her own caution to
the other birds she has been cut in two," said he, and uttered this stanza:--
The greed-denouncing bird, to greed a prey,
The chariot wheels leave mangled on the way.
_____________________________
[430] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The warning
sister was the bird 'Warner' of those times, and I the King of the birds."
Next: No. 116. Dubbaca-Jātaka
No. 115.
ANUSĀSIKA-JĀTAKA.
"The greed-denouncing bird."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about a Sister who gave a warning to others. For we are told that she
came of a good Sāvatthi family, but that from the day of her entrance into the
Order she failed of her duty and was filled with a gluttonous spirit; she used
to seek alms in quarters of the city unvisited by other Sisters. And dainty food
was given her there. Now her gluttony made her afraid that other Sisters might
go there too and take away from her part of the food. Casting about for a device
to stop them from going and to keep everything to herself, she warned
p. 258
the other Sisters that it was a dangerous quarter, troubled by a fierce
elephant, a fierce horse, and a fierce dog. And she besought them not to go
there for alms. Accordingly not a single Sister gave so much as a look in that
direction.
Now one day on her way through this district for alms, as she was hurrying into
a house there, a fierce ram butted her with such violence as to break her leg.
Up ran the people and set her leg and brought her on a litter to the convent of
the Sisterhood. And all the Sisters tauntingly said her broken leg came of her
going where she had warned them not to go.
Not long after the Brotherhood came to hear of this; and one day in the Hall of
Truth [429] the Brethren spoke of how this sister had got her leg broken by a
fierce ram in a quarter of the city against which she had warned the other
Sisters; and they condemned her conduct. Entering the Hall at this moment, the
Master asked, and was told, what they were discussing. "As now, Brethren," said
he, "so too in a past time she gave warnings which she did not follow herself;
and then as now she came to harm." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a bird, and growing up became king of the birds and came to the Himalayas with
thousands of birds in his train. During their stay in that place, a certain
fierce bird used to go in quest of food along a highway where she found rice,
beans, and other grain dropped by passing waggons. Casting about how best-to
keep the others from coming there too, she addressed them as follows:--"The
highway is full of peril. Along it go elephants and horses, waggons drawn by
fierce oxen, and such like dangerous things. And as it is impossible to take
wing on the instant, don't go there at all." And because of her warning, the
other birds dubbed her 'Warner'.
Now one day when she was feeding along the highway she heard the sound of a
carriage coming swiftly along the road, and turned her head to look at it. "Oh
it's quite a long way off," thought she and went on as before. Up swift as the
wind came the carriage, and before she could rise, the wheel had crushed her and
whirled on its way. At the muster, the King marked her absence and ordered
search to be made for her. And at last she was found cut in two on the highway
and the news was brought to the king. "Through not following her own caution to
the other birds she has been cut in two," said he, and uttered this stanza:--
The greed-denouncing bird, to greed a prey,
The chariot wheels leave mangled on the way.
_____________________________
[430] His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "The warning
sister was the bird 'Warner' of those times, and I the King of the birds."
Next: No. 116. Dubbaca-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Mitacinti Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 114. Mitacinti-Jātaka
No. 114.
MITACINTI-JĀTAKA.
"They twain in fisher's net."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about two aged Elders. After a rainy-season spent in a forest in the
country they resolved to seek out the Master, and got together provisions for
their journey. But they kept putting off their departure day by day, till a
month flew by. Then they provided a fresh supply of provisions, and
procrastinated till a second month was gone, and a third. When their indolence
and sluggishness had lost them three months, they set out and came to Jetavana.
Laying aside their bowls and robes in the common-room, they came into the
Master's presence. The Brethren remarked on the length of the time since the two
had visited the Master, and asked the reason. Then [427] they told their story
and all the Brotherhood came to know of the laziness of these indolent Brethren.
Assembling in the Hall of Truth the Brethren talked together of this thing. And
the Master entered and was told what they were discussing. Being asked whether
they were really so indolent, those Brethren admitted their short-coming.
"Brethren," said he, "in former times, no less than now, they were indolent and
loth to leave their abode." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there lived in the
river of Benares three fishes, named Over-thoughtful, Thoughtful, and
p. 257
[paragraph continues] Thoughtless. And they came down-stream from the wild
country to where men dwelt. Hereupon Thoughtful said to the other two, "This is
a dangerous and perilous neighbourhood, where fishermen catch fish with nets,
basket-traps, and such like tackle. Let us be off to the wild country again."
But so lazy were the other two fishes, and so greedy, that they kept putting off
their going from day to day, until they had let three months slip by. Now
fishermen cast their nets into the river; and Over-thoughtful and Thoughtless
were swimming on ahead in quest of food when in their fully they blindly rushed
into the net. Thoughtful, who was behind, observed the net, and saw the fate of
the other two.
"I must save these lazy fools from death," thought he. So first he dodged round
the net, and splashed in the water in front of it like a fish that has broken
through and gone up stream; and then doubling back, he splashed about behind it,
like a fish that has broken through and gone down stream. Seeing this, the
fishermen thought the fish had broken the net and all got away; so they pulled
it in by one corner and the two fishes escaped from the net into the open water
again. In this way they owed their lives to Thoughtful.
_____________________________
His story told, the Master, as Buddha, recited this stanza:
[428] They twain in fisher's nets are ta’en;
Them Thoughtful saves and frees again.
His lesson ended, and the Four Truths expounded (at the close whereof the aged
Brethren gained fruition of the First Path), the Master identified the Birth by
saying: "These two Brethren were then Over-thoughtful and Thoughtless, and I
Thoughtful."
Next: No. 115. Anusāsika-Jātaka
No. 114.
MITACINTI-JĀTAKA.
"They twain in fisher's net."--This story was told by the Master while at
Jetavana, about two aged Elders. After a rainy-season spent in a forest in the
country they resolved to seek out the Master, and got together provisions for
their journey. But they kept putting off their departure day by day, till a
month flew by. Then they provided a fresh supply of provisions, and
procrastinated till a second month was gone, and a third. When their indolence
and sluggishness had lost them three months, they set out and came to Jetavana.
Laying aside their bowls and robes in the common-room, they came into the
Master's presence. The Brethren remarked on the length of the time since the two
had visited the Master, and asked the reason. Then [427] they told their story
and all the Brotherhood came to know of the laziness of these indolent Brethren.
Assembling in the Hall of Truth the Brethren talked together of this thing. And
the Master entered and was told what they were discussing. Being asked whether
they were really so indolent, those Brethren admitted their short-coming.
"Brethren," said he, "in former times, no less than now, they were indolent and
loth to leave their abode." So saying, he told this story of the past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, there lived in the
river of Benares three fishes, named Over-thoughtful, Thoughtful, and
p. 257
[paragraph continues] Thoughtless. And they came down-stream from the wild
country to where men dwelt. Hereupon Thoughtful said to the other two, "This is
a dangerous and perilous neighbourhood, where fishermen catch fish with nets,
basket-traps, and such like tackle. Let us be off to the wild country again."
But so lazy were the other two fishes, and so greedy, that they kept putting off
their going from day to day, until they had let three months slip by. Now
fishermen cast their nets into the river; and Over-thoughtful and Thoughtless
were swimming on ahead in quest of food when in their fully they blindly rushed
into the net. Thoughtful, who was behind, observed the net, and saw the fate of
the other two.
"I must save these lazy fools from death," thought he. So first he dodged round
the net, and splashed in the water in front of it like a fish that has broken
through and gone up stream; and then doubling back, he splashed about behind it,
like a fish that has broken through and gone down stream. Seeing this, the
fishermen thought the fish had broken the net and all got away; so they pulled
it in by one corner and the two fishes escaped from the net into the open water
again. In this way they owed their lives to Thoughtful.
_____________________________
His story told, the Master, as Buddha, recited this stanza:
[428] They twain in fisher's nets are ta’en;
Them Thoughtful saves and frees again.
His lesson ended, and the Four Truths expounded (at the close whereof the aged
Brethren gained fruition of the First Path), the Master identified the Birth by
saying: "These two Brethren were then Over-thoughtful and Thoughtless, and I
Thoughtful."
Next: No. 115. Anusāsika-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Sigala Jataka
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 113. Sigāla-Jātaka
p. 255
No. 113.
SIGĀLA-JĀTAKA.
"The drunken jackal."--This story was told by the Master while at the
Bamboo-grove, about Devadatta. The Brethren had assembled [425] in the Hall of
Truth and were telling how Devadatta had gone to Gayāsīsa with five hundred
followers, whom he was leading into error by declaring that the Truth was
manifest in him "and not in the ascetic Gotama"; and how by his lies he was
breaking up the Brotherhood; and how he kept two fast-days a week. And as they
sate there talking of the wickedness of Devadatta, the Master entered and was
told the subject of their conversation. "Brethren," said he, "Devadatta was as
great a liar in past times as he is now." So saying, he told this story of the
past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a Tree-sprite in a cemetery grove. In those days a festival was proclaimed in
Benares, and the people resolved to sacrifice to the ogres. So they strewed fish
and meat about courtyards, and streets, and other places, and set out great pots
of strong drink. At midnight a jackal came into the town by the sewer, and
regaled himself on the meat and liquor. Crawling into some bushes, he was fast
asleep when morning dawned. Waking up and seeing it was broad daylight, he know
that he could not make his way back at that hour with safety. So he lay down
quietly near the roadside where he could not be seen, till at last he saw a
solitary brahmin on his way to rinse his mouth in the tank. Then the jackal
thought to himself, "Brahmins are a greedy lot. I must so play on his greediness
as to get him to carry me out of the city in his waist-cloth under his outer
robe." So, with a human voice, he cried "Brahmin."
"Who calls me?" said the brahmin, turning round. "I, brahmin." "What for?" "I
have two hundred gold pieces, brahmin; and if you will hide me in your
waist-cloth under your outer robe and so get me out of the city without my being
seen, you shall have them all."
Closing with the offer, the greedy brahmin hid the jackal and carried the beast
a little way out of the city. "What place is this, brahmin?" said the jackal.
"Oh, it's such and such a place," said the brahmin. "Go on a bit further," said
the jackal and kept urging the brahmin on always a little further, till at last
the cremation-park was reached. [426] "Put me down here," said the jackal; and
the brahmin did so. "Spread your robe out on the ground, brahmin." And the
greedy brahmin did so.
p. 256
"And now dig up this tree by the roots," said he, and while the brahmin was at
work he walked on to the robe, and dunged and staled on it in five places,--the
four corners and the middle. This done, he made off into the wood.
Hereon the Bodhisatta, standing in the fork of the tree, uttered this stanza:--
The drunken jackal, brahmin, cheats thy trust!
Thou ’lt find not here a hundred cowry-shells,
Far less thy quest, two hundred coins of gold.
And when he had repeated these verses, the Bodhisatta said to the brahmin, "Go
now and wash your robe and bathe, and go about your business." So saying, he
vanished from sight, and the brahmin did as he was bidden, and departed very
mortified at having been so tricked.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Devadatta was the
jackal of those days, and I the Tree-sprite."
Next: No. 114. Mitacinti-Jātaka
p. 255
No. 113.
SIGĀLA-JĀTAKA.
"The drunken jackal."--This story was told by the Master while at the
Bamboo-grove, about Devadatta. The Brethren had assembled [425] in the Hall of
Truth and were telling how Devadatta had gone to Gayāsīsa with five hundred
followers, whom he was leading into error by declaring that the Truth was
manifest in him "and not in the ascetic Gotama"; and how by his lies he was
breaking up the Brotherhood; and how he kept two fast-days a week. And as they
sate there talking of the wickedness of Devadatta, the Master entered and was
told the subject of their conversation. "Brethren," said he, "Devadatta was as
great a liar in past times as he is now." So saying, he told this story of the
past.
_____________________________
Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born
a Tree-sprite in a cemetery grove. In those days a festival was proclaimed in
Benares, and the people resolved to sacrifice to the ogres. So they strewed fish
and meat about courtyards, and streets, and other places, and set out great pots
of strong drink. At midnight a jackal came into the town by the sewer, and
regaled himself on the meat and liquor. Crawling into some bushes, he was fast
asleep when morning dawned. Waking up and seeing it was broad daylight, he know
that he could not make his way back at that hour with safety. So he lay down
quietly near the roadside where he could not be seen, till at last he saw a
solitary brahmin on his way to rinse his mouth in the tank. Then the jackal
thought to himself, "Brahmins are a greedy lot. I must so play on his greediness
as to get him to carry me out of the city in his waist-cloth under his outer
robe." So, with a human voice, he cried "Brahmin."
"Who calls me?" said the brahmin, turning round. "I, brahmin." "What for?" "I
have two hundred gold pieces, brahmin; and if you will hide me in your
waist-cloth under your outer robe and so get me out of the city without my being
seen, you shall have them all."
Closing with the offer, the greedy brahmin hid the jackal and carried the beast
a little way out of the city. "What place is this, brahmin?" said the jackal.
"Oh, it's such and such a place," said the brahmin. "Go on a bit further," said
the jackal and kept urging the brahmin on always a little further, till at last
the cremation-park was reached. [426] "Put me down here," said the jackal; and
the brahmin did so. "Spread your robe out on the ground, brahmin." And the
greedy brahmin did so.
p. 256
"And now dig up this tree by the roots," said he, and while the brahmin was at
work he walked on to the robe, and dunged and staled on it in five places,--the
four corners and the middle. This done, he made off into the wood.
Hereon the Bodhisatta, standing in the fork of the tree, uttered this stanza:--
The drunken jackal, brahmin, cheats thy trust!
Thou ’lt find not here a hundred cowry-shells,
Far less thy quest, two hundred coins of gold.
And when he had repeated these verses, the Bodhisatta said to the brahmin, "Go
now and wash your robe and bathe, and go about your business." So saying, he
vanished from sight, and the brahmin did as he was bidden, and departed very
mortified at having been so tricked.
_____________________________
His lesson ended, the Master identified the Birth by saying, "Devadatta was the
jackal of those days, and I the Tree-sprite."
Next: No. 114. Mitacinti-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Amaradevi-Panha
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 112. Amarādevī-Pañha
No. 112.
AMARĀDEVĪ-PAÑHA.
"Cakes and gruel."--This question too will be found in the same Jātaka. This is
the end of the Question of Queen Amarā 2.
Footnotes
254:2 Amarā was the wife of King Mahosadha; of. Milindapañho, page 205. The
Bodhisatta was Mahosadha, cf. Jātaka (test) i. p. 53.
Next: No. 113. Sigāla-Jātaka
No. 112.
AMARĀDEVĪ-PAÑHA.
"Cakes and gruel."--This question too will be found in the same Jātaka. This is
the end of the Question of Queen Amarā 2.
Footnotes
254:2 Amarā was the wife of King Mahosadha; of. Milindapañho, page 205. The
Bodhisatta was Mahosadha, cf. Jātaka (test) i. p. 53.
Next: No. 113. Sigāla-Jātaka
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Gadrabha Panha
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 111. Gadrabha-Pañha
No. 111.
GADRABHA-PAÑHA.
"Thou think’st thyself a swan."--This Question as to the Ass will also be set
out at length in the Ummagga-jātaka. This is the end of the Question as to the
Ass.
Next: No. 112. Amarādevī-Pañha
No. 111.
GADRABHA-PAÑHA.
"Thou think’st thyself a swan."--This Question as to the Ass will also be set
out at length in the Ummagga-jātaka. This is the end of the Question as to the
Ass.
Next: No. 112. Amarādevī-Pañha
Khuddaka Nikaya - Jataka - Ekanipata - Sabbasamharaka Panha
Jataka Vol. I: Book I.--Ekanipāta: No. 110. Sabbasaṁhāraka-Pañha
No. 110.
SABBASAṀHĀRAKA-PAÑHA.
"There is no All-embracing."--This All-embracing Question will be set out at
length in the Ummagga-jātaka 1. This is the end of the All-embracing Question.
Footnotes
254:1 Not yet edited; it occurs at the end of the collection of Jātakas.
Next: No. 111. Gadrabha-Pañha
No. 110.
SABBASAṀHĀRAKA-PAÑHA.
"There is no All-embracing."--This All-embracing Question will be set out at
length in the Ummagga-jātaka 1. This is the end of the All-embracing Question.
Footnotes
254:1 Not yet edited; it occurs at the end of the collection of Jātakas.
Next: No. 111. Gadrabha-Pañha
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)