Part 7

Sudarśana, the city of the thirty-three gods, was 2500 yojanas in length and as many in breadth, and its circumference was 10,000 yojanas. It was surrounded by seven rows of golden walls, which were two and a half yojanas high. These walls had quadruple cornices of gold, silver, beryl, and crystal, and windows were set in them above and below. The space lying inside the city of Sudarśana was fair to see, pleasant, extensive, and copiously variegated with a hundred colours, and the ground was soft, extremely soft, like a cushion of cotton or wool, yielding to the pressure of the foot, rising again when the foot was lifted, and covered knee-deep with divine mandārava [or coral-tree] flowers; when a wind arose, the faded blossoms were swept away and a rain of fresh flowers descended. The city of Sudarśana had 999 gates, and at each gate were stationed 500 Yakshas arrayed in blue robes and coats of mail, and armed with bows and arrows, to serve as a guard and defence for the thirty-three gods, and also as an ornament. The market-place of Sudarśana, which was 2500 yojanas long and twelve broad, was fair to see, pleasant, strewn with golden sand, sprinkled with sandalwood water, covered over with gold trellis-work. On every side were to be seen water basins of various kinds, formed of cubes of four sorts, of gold, silver, beryl, and crystal. The steps of these basins were formed of four materials, of gold, silver, beryl, and crystal. The basins were surrounded by balustrades of four kinds, made of gold, silver, beryl, and crystal. The uprights, borders, and handles of the golden balustrades were made of silver; those of the silver balustrades were made of gold; those of the beryl balustrades were made of crystal, and those of the crystal balustrades were made of beryl. These basins were full of water which was cool and honey-sweet, were set thick with blue, red, and white lotuses, and replete with many water-haunting birds of beautiful form, which gave agreeable utterance to charming sounds. All around these basins grew blossoming and fruit-bearing trees of beauteous form and stately growth, adorned with wreaths, as when an adroit chaplet-maker or his pupil, in order to form an ornament for the ears, has deftly woven a garland of flowers. On land, likewise, birds of various kinds, all of beauteous form, agreeably uttered charming sounds.

In the city of Sudarśana were many wishing-trees, on which four kinds of raiment grew, blue, yellow, red, and white. Whatever garments were desired by the gods or the daughters of the gods were obtained by them as soon as the idea came into their minds. From the four kinds of ornament-trees came ornaments for the hand and foot, ornaments to be worn out of sight on the lower parts of the body, and ornaments intended for the eye. Whatever the sons or daughters of the gods wished for, that thing came into their hands as soon as they had expressed their wish. Four kinds of musical instruments, harps, pipes, guitars, and shells, did the gods and the daughters of the gods hold in their hands as soon as they wished for them. Four kinds of divine food, blue, yellow, red, and white, did the gods and the daughters of the gods obtain as soon as they wished for them. Storied houses provided with summer chambers, courts, windows, and peepholes, formed meeting-places for troops of women and Apsaras. There to the sound of music, with drink made of honey and from the kadamba tree, the thirty-three gods played, rejoiced, and took delight, enjoying the fruits of their merits. The meeting-hall of the thirty-three gods, Sudharmā by name, which was 300 yojanas long, 300 broad, and 900 in circumference, was beautiful, charming, exquisite to look upon, formed of crystal, and rising above the city to a height of 342 yojanas. In it were arranged the seats of the thirty-three gods, those of the thirty-two under-kings, and the seat of Śakra, the king of the thirty-three gods. King Māndhātar’s seat was prepared for him at the end of all these seats. The thirty-three gods received King Māndhātar with a gift of honour. Then there entered in by ranks those beings who had acquired great power by the maturity of their merits, the others remaining without. King Māndhātar said to himself, “Of the seats which are here arranged, mine is undoubtedly the last.” And he came to the conclusion that Śakra, the king of the gods, ought to give up to him half of his own seat. No sooner had he conceived this idea than Śakra the king of the gods gave up to him half of his seat, and King Māndhātar shared the seat with the king of the gods. Now when the great King Māndhātar and Śakra the king of the gods sat on the same seat, it was impossible to see in either of them, whether in length or breadth, in voice or in fulness of aspect, any difference from the other, any distinction or any pre-eminence, except that Śakra the king of the gods never closed his eyes. While King Māndhātar tarried among the thirty-three gods, thirty-six Śakra-evanescences passed away.

While he was there a war broke out between the gods and the Asuras. When the Asuras were defeated, they closed the gates of the Asura city and occupied the bulwarks round about. And when the gods were defeated, they in like manner closed the gates of the divine city, and occupied its bulwarks round about. Now it came to pass that the Asuras, having equipped a fourfold army, had already broken through the five defences, and were drawing nigh unto the king of the gods, Śakra, in warlike array. The Yakshas said to the king of the gods, Śakra, “Know, O Kauśika, that the Asuras have broken through the five bulwarks and are near at hand. Be pleased, therefore, to accomplish all that ought to be done and prepared.” Now when Śakra, the king of the gods, had equipped a fourfold army and was setting out to wage war against the Asuras, King Māndhātar turned towards him and said, “Stay here; I will take the field myself.” Śakra replied, “Let that be done.” Then the king arose heavenward with an army eighteen koṭi strong, and caused his bowstring to clang. When the Asuras heard this sound, they asked whose bowstring it was that was thus clanging. Being told that the sound was the clang of King Māndhātar’s bowstring, they were greatly astounded. King Māndhātar arrived, and the war-chariots of the contending gods and Asuras rose high into the air. As, in accordance with the ordering of things, no superiority or inferiority was to be found on either side, King Māndhātar soared behind all the Asuras towards heaven. The Asuras asked, “Who is this who has soared above us towards heaven?” Being told that it was Māndhātar, the king of men, they reflected that, as he had risen above their chariots, he must be a being who had attained to the glory of great power through the fulness of his merits; and overcome, full of fear and trembling, they turned their backs and withdrew into the stronghold of the Asuras.

When King Māndhātar inquired who had gained the day, the ministers answered that he was the conqueror. Then King Māndhātar came to the conclusion that he was superior to the thirty-three gods. He reflected that he possessed the vast, rich, prosperous, fruitful Jambudvīpa, replete with men and living creatures; that he possessed Pūrvavidehadvīpa, Aparagodānīyadvīpa, and Uttarakurudvīpa; that he was the owner of the seven treasures, the treasure of the wheel, the treasure of the elephant, the treasure of the horse, the treasure of the wife, the treasure of the householder, and, seventhly, the treasure of the minister; that he had a full thousand of heroic, sturdy sons, endowed with the beauty of splendid bodies, victorious over hosts of foes; that a rain of precious stones had fallen within his palace for the space of seven days; that he had made his way to the abode of the thirty-three gods; that he had entered into Sudharmā, the meeting-place of the gods, and that the king of the gods, Śakra, had ceded to him the half of his seat; and he came to the conclusion that he must expel the king of the gods, Śakra, from his seat, and take into his own hands the government of both gods and men.

As soon as he had conceived this idea the great King Māndhātar came to the end of his good fortune. On his return to Jambudvīpa he was attacked by a violent illness, and amid intolerable agonies he drew nigh unto death. His ministers and other state officials, the astrologers and workers of cures by spells, betook themselves to him and addressed him thus: “When the king shall have passed away hence, it may be that the subsequent inhabitants of the kingdom will inquire what King Māndhātar said at the time of his death. What shall we say to them in reply?”

“O chieftains, when in time to come, after my departure, men shall draw nigh unto you and ask you that question, then shall ye give them this answer: ‘O sirs, King Māndhātar, who possessed the seven treasures, who with a fourfold host of men acquired power over the four dvīpas, and made his way to the abode of the thirty-three gods, is said to have died before he had obtained satisfaction through the fivefold pleasures of sense.’”

Moreover he pronounced these ślokas: [71]—

“Even by a rain of gold pieces will wishes not be satisfied. The wise man, he who knows that wishes bring but little enjoyment and much sorrow, takes no delight even in divine enjoyments. The hearer of the perfected Buddha rejoices when desire fails. Even if a mountain of gold were like unto Himavant, yet it would not suffice for the wealth of a single individual; that the discerning one knows full well. He who observes sorrows, starting from this base, how can he take pleasure in enjoyments? He who is steady, who has learnt to recognise the thorn in the treasures of the world, will learn the essence of things to his own correction.”

King Māndhātar ordered irresistible sacrifices to be offered, and he said in ślokas:—

“If one knows that the future lasts long but life is only brief, then ought one to acquire merits. If one does not acquire merits, then one has sorrow. Therefore must he who is acquiring merits offer sacrificial gifts, as is fitting. In this world and in the future will he, if he offer up gifts, obtain happiness.”

The inhabitants of the town and country heard that King Māndhātar had fallen ill and was nigh unto death. Having learnt this, many hundreds of thousands of men assembled in order to see King Māndhātar. The king spoke to the multitudes upon the evil of lust and the ills of house-life, and then condemned desire. Thereupon many hundreds of thousands of men renounced house-life, retired from the world to the Rishis, and lived in the forest, fulfilling the four duties of Brahmans, and abandoning all striving after enjoyment. Persevering in this, they became participators in the world of Brahma.

While King Māndhātar was in his boyhood, while he was crown prince, while he exercised supreme power in Jambudvīpa, while he lived in the dvīpas of Pūrvavideha, Aparagodānīya, and Uttarakuru, and on the seven golden mountains, and while he dwelt in the region of the thirty-three gods to which he went, eighty-four Śakra-evanescences passed away. The measure of life of Śakra, the prince of the five great kings, is as follows:—One hundred years of men represent one day of the thirty-three gods. If thirty such days are reckoned as one month, and twelve months as one year, then the measure of life of the thirty-three gods is a hundred divine years. According to human reckoning, that amounts to 3,600,000. [72]

II.

KUŚA JĀTAKA. [73]

In olden times there was a mighty king named Śakuni, who was a beloved associate of the king of the gods, Indra. In spite of this he became absorbed in meditation, leaning his head upon his hand, reflecting that, inasmuch as he had neither a son nor a daughter, he would have to die, in spite of his riches and his power, without leaving behind him a son or a daughter, and that his family would become extinct. As he sat meditating in this wise, the king of the gods, Indra, saw him and said, “O friend, wherefore do you lean your head upon your hand, and wherefore do you sit there meditating in that manner?”

He replied, “O Kauśika, if I die without leaving a son or daughter, my family will become extinct, in spite of my possessing such wealth and power.”

Indra said, “O friend, I will send you a medicine. Let your wives drink of it, and thereby you will obtain sons and daughters.”

The king of the gods, Indra, betook himself to Mount Gandhamādana, brought away the medicine with him, and sent it to the king. The king sent it to his wives, with directions for them to drink it. The king’s chief wife had just gone to sleep, but the other wives drank the medicine without waking her, and all of them became pregnant. When the queen awoke and perceived that they were pregnant, she said, “What have ye done to become pregnant?”

They replied, “The king gave us a medicine to drink.”

“Why did you drink it without waking me? As this is so, tell me in what medicine-holder it was brought.”

“It was contained in a kuśa box.”

“Where is that?”

“Here it is.”

The queen washed the kuśa box and drank the water, whereupon she also became pregnant.

After eight or nine months had passed by, all the wives gave birth to sons. The son to whom the chief wife gave birth possessed the eighteen signs of uncomeliness, a face like that of a lion, and an extremely strong body. His birth-feast was celebrated in great style, and the name of Kuśa was conferred upon him. When the king looked upon his other sons he rejoiced, but Kuśa’s ugliness excited his wrath.

It came to pass that the subordinate kings said, “Honoured sirs, as King Mahāśakuni oppresses us all so greatly, let us go up and deprive him of his power.”

So they came with a fourfold host and laid siege to his capital. As King Mahāśakuni could not venture to fight with them, he ordered all the gates to be closed and the walls to be occupied. Kuśa went to his mother and said, “Mother, why are all the gates shut?”

“As your father cannot venture to fight with the subordinate kings, he has shut the gates and remains within.”

“Mother, as I wish to fight with them, let the king give me a chariot.”

“My son, as you displease him and excite his wrath, how can he be expected to give you a chariot?”

“Do go to him, mother, and having gone, tell him that the youth Kuśa will fight with the enemy if a chariot is given him.”

The king gave him a chariot, and Kuśa took two quivers, mounted the chariot, and prepared to start. The king of gods, Indra, said to himself, “As these subordinate kings are strong, this Bodisat of the Bhadrakalpa, the youth Kuśa, may fall into trouble, so I will lend him aid.” And he gave Kuśa a shell, a disk, and a mace, and then said, “Bodisat, these things will save you.”

Kuśa opened one of the gates and drove out. As soon as he sounded the shell, the hostile host was terrified at its sound; some were deafened by its clang, others fled away with shattered ears. Whenever he flung the disk or the mace, the enemy fell to the ground. He pressed into the midst of the host, and when he sounded the shell every ear cracked, and the enemy fled saying, “This man is a Rākshasa.”

When the youth had overthrown the whole of them, he went to his father, and told him that he had conquered all the kings, and the land was at peace. On hearing this, King Mahāśakuni rejoiced, and said to himself, “The youth Kuśa is strong and remarkably brave. Why should I dislike him?” And he began to take delight in him.

After arranging marriages for all his other sons, the king set to work to find a wife for the youth Kuśa as well. But all men said, “We are ready to give our daughters, only not to Kuśa.” Now a certain king desired to obtain another king’s daughter in marriage, but did not succeed; and on her, by means of a trick, pretending it was for another of his sons, King Mahāśakuni laid his hands. And he gave her to Kuśa, and celebrated his marriage with her in consonance with the constellation, the epoch, and the moment.

Now the king had said, “Honoured sirs, let no one show the youth Kuśa a mirror. Moreover, he must not bathe in places where a man, in order to take a bath, must step into water. And he must never be allowed to approach his wife by daylight.” But Kuśa’s wife saw him playing with his brothers one day, and she said, “Who is that Piśācha [or demon] who is playing with the youths?”

“That is your husband.”

“What! is my husband like that?”

When she had seen him another day sporting with the rest of the youths in the water, and had asked if her husband was really like that, she determined to clear the matter up. So she lighted a lamp and covered it over with a bowl. When Kuśa had approached his wife [by night], and she [had uncovered the lamp and] perceived that he had the eighteen marks of unsightliness and a face like a lion’s jowl, she exclaimed, “Piśācha! Piśācha!” and fled away.

Now it came to pass that certain mountaineers rebelled against King Mahāśakuni. The king ordered the youth Kuśa to subdue those mountaineers, and sent him forth. When Kuśa had gone, his wife sent to say to her father and mother, “Is there no man left in the world, that ye have given me to a Piśācha? If I am to die, well and good. But if I am not to die, then will I take to flight.” Thereupon her parents fetched her away. When the youth Kuśa returned home, after subduing the mountaineers, he asked his mother what had become of his wife.

“Her parents have taken her away,” she replied.

“For what reason?”

“Because she took you for a Piśācha.”

“Mother, I will go and bring her back.”

“Do so.”

He took the shell, the disk, and the mace, and set out on his way. It happened that at a certain hill-town a great number of men sat looking on one side, having closed their gates from fear of a lion. The youth Kuśa said, “What makes you sit there like that?”

“We do so from fear of a lion.”

“Why do not you kill it?”

“We cannot.”

“What will you give me if I kill it?”

“Half of our fourfold host.”

The youth Kuśa drew near to the lion and sounded the shell. The lion’s ears burst and it died. Kuśa took it and went to the hill-town and said, “O sirs, here is the lion.”

“Then take the half of our fourfold host.”

“I will leave it in your hands. Give it to me when I come back again,” he said.

He betook himself to the hill-town where his wife was, and went to the house of a chaplet-maker, who said to him, “What are you?”

“I am the son of a chaplet-maker,” he replied.

“What is your name?”

“Vṛiji.”

As Bodisats are expert in all arts and accomplishments, he twined a splendid wreath, which the chaplet-maker gave to the king’s daughter. The princess said, “How comes it that you have never before made me such a wreath as this?”

“It was my apprentice who made it.”

“I should like to see your apprentice.”

When the chaplet-maker brought him to her and she looked at the youth, she wondered where this demon could have sprung from, and she exclaimed, “Piśācha! Piśācha!” Whereupon he fled. Afterwards he betook himself to the house of a cook, who said, “Who are you?”

“I am the son of a cook.”

“What is your name?”

“Sugandhabhājana.”

As he roasted and boiled excellently, the cook served up to the king’s daughter the boiled and roasted meats which he had cooked. She said, “O friend, who prepared this food so excellently roasted and boiled?”

“My apprentice prepared it.”

“I should like to see your apprentice.”

This time also she cried out as before.

He next went to a doctor, who said, “Who are you?”

“A doctor’s son.”

“What is your name?”

“Ātreya.”

The king’s daughter fell ill with a disease of the brain, and the doctor could of himself do nothing to cure it. As he sat one day absorbed in thought on that account, Kuśa said to him, “Master, why are you so pensive?”

“The king’s daughter is attacked by a disease of the brain, and I can do nothing to cure it.”

“I will go and cure her.”

So Kuśa went to visit her. When she saw him she thought, “Where can this demon have come from?” But she reflected that if she said that aloud he would not cure her, so she determined not to do so till he had cured her. When she became well she cried out, “Piśācha! Piśācha!” Whereupon he fled.

He betook himself to the ministers, who said, “Who are you?”

“I am Sahasrabala (Thousand-strength).”

They took him into their service.

Now it came to pass that the son of the before-mentioned king heard that the princess, whom Kuśa had formerly obtained, had been given up by him, and had returned home. So he sent to say that if the king would give him his daughter, all would be well; but if the king would not give her, he would despoil him of his sovereign power. The king replied, “I have given my daughter to the son of King Mahāśakuni. I cannot give her to another.” So the prince came with a fourfold army and besieged the king’s capital. The king could not venture to fight with him, so he ordered the gates to be closed and remained inside.

The youth Kuśa said to the ministers, “Sirs, wherefore are the gates closed?” They explained the whole matter to him. The youth Kuśa said to the ministers, “If the king’s daughter is given to me, I will undertake to fight the enemy.” The ministers laid the case before the king, who said, “I have given my daughter to the son of King Mahāśakuni. How can I give her to this man? The present complication is entirely due to this maiden.” The ministers said, “As there is at present no other prospect of victory, let this man fight the prince offhand. We shall find out then which is the conqueror.” The king said, “Let that be done by you.” And the ministers said, “Thousand-strength, act according to your words.”

Thereupon the youth took the two quivers, which held five hundred arrows, and also the shell, the disk, and the mace, and set forth. When he sounded the shell, the ears of the enemy were shattered, and they fled. The princess thought, “As this youth Kuśa is excellently endowed with boldness and courage, why should I dislike him?” So she took a liking for him, and said to the king, “What you promised, that fulfil.”

“Daughter, I will give you to Kuśa.”

“Father,” she said, “this is the youth Kuśa himself.”

“Go to him then, daughter, since that is so.”

The king paid Kuśa great honour, gave him a fourfold host, and let him and the rest of his party go free.

Kuśa went to the other hill-town, and said to the inhabitants, “Honoured sirs, now give me the half of the fourfold army.” They replied, “O youth, such a flood has taken place as has washed away the four divisions of the army.” As there were sheep grazing at no great distance, the youth Kuśa uttered this saying, “Reflect and know that whither the sixty-year old bullock, whither the elephant has been brought, thither also will the cows and sheep be brought. If ye give me the army, good. If ye give it not, there will be a tussle for it.”

After the army had been given to him he went down to a river. Being wearied, he entered the water to bathe; and as he did so he saw the reflection of his face in the water, and thought, “As I have the eighteen signs of uncomeliness and a face like a lion, and as on that account the king’s daughter takes no pleasure in me, it is needless that such a one as I should remain alive. I will go and put myself to death.”

He entered into a copse, and was preparing to hang himself, when the king of the gods, Indra, reflected, “As this is a Bodisat of the Bhadrakalpa, and he is going to hang himself because he does not possess a beautiful appearance, I will fill his mind with hope.” So Indra said to him, “Youth, despair not! And in order that you may not kill yourself, set this jewel upon your head, and your courage will be restored to you.” Then Indra vanished.