Part 9

With this idea in view he caused an enclosure to be made, and, after some little time had elapsed, he ordered his ministers to make public through the realm a proclamation to the effect that all men who dwelt in the kingdom were bound to assemble within that enclosure; and that no excuse would avail, but if any one did not appear he should be punished. When the ministers had made this order public, and all the inhabitants of the realm were assembled together, the king gave the boy a wreath of flowers, and told him to give it to the man who was his father; and he gave orders to the watchmen to lay hands upon the man to whom the boy should give the wreath. As the boy walked with the wreath through the assembled crowds and closely observed them, he caught sight of the thief, and, in accordance with the incomprehensible sequence of human affairs, handed him the wreath. The king’s watchmen seized the thief and brought him before the king. The king asked his ministers what ought to be done. They were of opinion that the thief must be put to death. But the king said, “O friends, so little does such a hero of a man deserve to be put to death, that he ought much rather to be carefully watched over.” Thereupon he endowed his daughter with ornaments of all sorts, and gave her to the thief as his wife, and bestowed upon her the half of his kingdom. [77]

V.

SUDHANA AVADĀNA. [78]

In olden times there were two kings in Panchāla, one in the north and the other in the south. The king of North Panchāla, whose name was Dhana, like a law-observing monarch, ruled according to the law in Hastināpura, a city which was endowed with wealth, health, fruitfulness, and greatness of extent and population, and which was free from disquiet, disorder, uproar, and robbery, in which disease had quite come to an end, and which was fully provided with rice, sugar-cane, bullocks, and buffaloes. Moreover in this city there was a great lake, full of blue, red, and white lotuses, and rendered pleasant and beautiful by ducks and geese of various kinds. As the Nāga Janmachitra, [79] who dwelt in this lake, sent down from time to time a torrent of rain, the land was very fruitful; and as the realm overflowed with food and drink, the inhabitants, intent upon gifts, sacrifices, and reverence, bestowed sustenance upon the Śramaṇas and Brahmans, and the poor and needy.

The king of South Panchāla, who paid no respect to the law, was haughty, choleric, passionate, and ill-natured. He did not rule in accordance with the law, and he kept the inhabitants of his realm constantly in fear by penalties, blows, wounds, executions, arrests, and bonds, and by intolerance, inaccessibility, and malice of every kind. As he was overweening and did not rule according to law, the deity did not let rain fall from time to time, on which account men, full of fear and despair, deserted the country in troops, and betook themselves to the realm of the king of North Panchāla.

Some time after this, when the king of South Panchāla had gone to the chase and had set forth to inspect his domains, he remarked that all the towns and villages were deserted, and the parks and the temples of the gods had fallen into decay and ruin. Having observed this, he said to his ministers, “Honoured sirs, what is the reason of these towns and villages being deserted, and of the parks and the temples of the gods having fallen into decay and ruin? and whither have the people gone?” The ministers replied, “They have gone into the realm of Dhana, the king of North Panchāla.”

“On what account?”

“Will your majesty accord impunity of speech?”

“Speak, for I accord you impunity.”

Thereupon they said, “Your majesty, as the king of North Panchāla rules in accordance with the law, his land is great, rich, healthy, fruitful, densely peopled, free from disquiet, discord, disorder, uproar, and robbery; diseases have quite disappeared there, it overflows with rice, sugar-cane, oxen, and buffaloes; and its people, intent upon bestowing gifts, sacrifices, and reverence, offer sustenance to the Śramaṇas and Brahmans, and the poor and needy. But as you, your majesty, are choleric, passionate, and ill-natured, and have kept the inhabitants of the realm constantly in fear by means of penalties, blows, wounds, executions, arrests, and bonds, and by intolerance, inaccessibility, and malice of every kind, therefore have the people, full of fear and despair, gone into the land of the king of North Panchāla.” The king of South Panchāla said, “O sirs, what would be a good way of making those people return and inhabit these towns and villages?” The ministers replied, “If your majesty, ruling after the fashion of the king of North Panchāla, will protect the land with gentle, benignant, and merciful mind, the people will soon return and inhabit these towns and villages.” The king of South Panchāla said, “Sirs, since this is so, I will protect the land with gentle, benignant, and merciful mind, ruling after the fashion of the king of North Panchāla; but do ye take such measures that the people may come back again and inhabit these towns and villages.”

“Your majesty, there is yet another cause for the state of things in Hastināpura. In that city there is a Nāga named Janmachitra, who dwells in a great lake filled with blue, red, and white lotuses of all kinds, and adorned with ducks and geese of divers species. As he sends down a torrent of rain from time to time, the harvest is always abundant and the soil is extremely fertile, and the land abounds in meat and drink.” The king said, “Is there no means of summoning that Nāga hither?”

“Your majesty, as he can be conjured hither by men who are versed in charms and spells, let them perform the deed.”

Thereupon the king fastened a golden basket to the end of a standard, and ordered proclamation to be made throughout the whole kingdom that he would give that golden basket to any one who could conjure the Nāga Janmachitra out of North Panchāla into South Panchāla, and would also heap upon him a profusion of great honours. After a time a serpent-charmer appeared before the ministers, and said that if the golden basket was given to him he would capture and bring in the Nāga Janmachitra. The ministers ordered the basket to be brought, and the serpent-charmer said, “I will leave this basket in the hands of a trustworthy man. Let him give it to me when I bring the Nāga Janmachitra.” When this had been promised him, the serpent-charmer placed the golden basket in the hands of a trustworthy man and betook himself to the city of Hastināpura. Being well versed in signs, he perceived, after carefully observing the lake all round, that the Nāga Janmachitra must have his dwelling-place in a certain spot. So he went to fetch offerings and utensils, and said to the ministers, “Give me offerings and utensils, and within seven days I will capture and bring in the Nāga.”

Now the Nāga had seen the serpent-charmer, and had said to himself, “This man has come to carry me off, and if at the end of seven days I am carried off, I shall suffer great distress on account of being severed from my parents. What shall I do? To whom shall I pray for protection?”

Now there lived in the neighbourhood of the lake two hunters, Masūraka and Phalaka. Living near the lake, they supported themselves by killing not only land animals, such as the hares, stags, boars, and so forth which came to that lake to drink, but also the fish, tortoises, and so forth which lived in the water. Of these two hunters Masūraka died, but Phalaka remained alive. As the Nāga Janmachitra came to the conclusion that there was no one except the hunter Phalaka to whom he could fly for refuge, he went, after assuming the form of a man, to the hunter Phalaka, and said to him, “O friend, if King Dhana’s realm is vast, rich, healthy, fruitful, and populous, and overflows with rice, sugar-cane, oxen, and buffaloes (as was said above), do you know through whose power this has come to pass?” The hunter answered, “Well do I know that this takes place because that king rules in accordance with the law, and protects his land with gentle, benignant, and merciful mind.” The Nāga said, “Does all this arise from that cause only, or from some other cause as well?” The hunter said, “There is another cause as well. In this lake lives the Nāga Janmachitra, who from time to time sends down a torrent of rain, in consequence of which the soil becomes extremely fertile, and is replete with food and drink.” Janmachitra said, “If this Nāga were to be taken away from this land by any one, he would no longer be able to be of service, and he would be very wretched on account of being separated from his parents. What would the king and the inhabitants of the land do if he were to be carried off? what would you do?”

“We should perish.”

“Do you know who this Nāga is?”

“No!”

“I am he, and a serpent-charmer from South Panchāla wishes to carry me off. He has gone back to fetch offerings and utensils, and will return in seven days. He will then drive pegs of Khadira-wood [80] into the shore of the lake at its four corners, will hang up various threads of different colours, and will recite spells. During that time you must remain hidden somewhere near. But when, as he is performing a ceremony of this kind, the waters of the lake begin to seethe and overflow, and I come forth from them, then you must bend your bow against the serpent-charmer, and run up to him quickly and say, ‘Reverse the spell. If you do not do so I shall sever your head from your body and send it to the bottom of the lake.’ But if he dies without reversing the spell, then, even after his death, I shall remain bound by its force all my life long.” The hunter said, “As I would have done this of my own accord, were it merely for the sake of doing you a service, how much the more shall I be ready to protect you, inasmuch as I shall be doing a service to the whole kingdom. Say no more.”

The Nāga then took up his abode in a lonely spot. When seven days had passed, the hunter hid himself near that place. The serpent-charmer came and began to prepare the offerings and utensils, driving in the pegs of Khadira-wood at the four corners, attaching various threads of divers colours, and reciting spells. When the water began to seethe, the hunter sped an arrow from his bow, and then drew his sword from its sheath and cried, “Will you carry off the Nāga who dwells in our land by means of spells? Reverse your spell. If you do not, I will sever your head from your body and send it to the bottom of the lake.” The serpent-charmer, experiencing pain and grief induced by anguish and fear of death, reversed the spell, whereupon the hunter instantly killed him. When the Nāga was thus freed from the power of the spell, he came forth from the lake, embraced the hunter, and thus addressed him, “You are my mother, you are my father. In this wise am I, in that I trusted in you, spared the pain of being separated from my parents. Come, let us go to them.” He led him to their abode, regaled him with meats and drinks of divers kinds, presented him with jewels, and then said to his parents, “This man has become my refuge, my friend, and my kinsman. Through his means I have been saved from separation from you.” The parents also let him have all he wished for, and presented him with precious things of all kinds. These he took away with him, and then came forth from the lake.

Not far from the lake was a hermitage, rich in flowers, and fruits, and birds which uttered varied notes. Therein a Rishi abode, full of gentleness, mercy, and kindness towards living creatures. To this Rishi the hunter was wont to go daily, in the morning, at midday, and in the evening. To him he gave a full account of what had taken place between him and the Nāga Janmachitra. The Rishi said to him, “What need have you of jewels and gold? That habitation contains the Amogha-chain [81] (i.e., that which holds fast). You must ask for that.” As a desire for that Amogha-chain arose within the hunter’s mind, he followed the advice of the Rishi, and again betook himself to the abode of the Nāgas. There he saw the Amogha-chain at the entrance of the Nāgas’ abode, and perceiving that it was the chain which he wanted, he entered into the abode. The Nāga Janmachitra and the other Nāgas were delighted, and they gave him jewels. But he said, “Jewels I want not; rather give me the Amogha-chain.” Janmachitra replied, “What need have you of it? To us it is most needful. When the Garuḍa plagues us, it is to this chain that we are indebted for safety.” The hunter said, “As ye are but seldom threatened with danger from the Garuḍa, therefore it is not so very necessary for you. But I am constantly in want of it. Therefore give it to me, if ye are mindful of the benefit conferred and the service performed.” The Nāga Janmachitra said, “As this man has done me a great service, I will give him the chain, after I have asked my father and mother.” After asking his parents, he give him the chain. Thereupon the hunter, as if he had recovered himself, returned home from the Nāgas’ abode with the Amogha-chain, full of happiness and joy.

King Dhana and his wife had neither son nor daughter. It happened once that he sat, resting his cheek upon his hand, absorbed by the thought that, since he had neither son nor daughter, his family would be extinct after his death, the treasures heaped up within his house would pass into other hands, and another king would rule over all that had been his. As he sat there thus absorbed in meditation, the Śramaṇas and Brahmans, his friends, companions, and kinsmen, asked him why he was so downcast. When he had fully explained the whole matter to them, they said, “Be pleased to pray to the gods. Then will a son be born unto you.” As he had no son, but desired to have one, he prayed to Śiva and Varuṇa, to Kuvera and Vasudeva, and so forth, also to various other gods, to the gods of the parks, the gods of the forest, the gods of the crossways, the gods of the three ways, the gods who accept oblations, the ever-accompanying gods, and the gods like-minded and identical in date of birth. It is generally said that sons and daughters are born in consequence of such prayers, not otherwise; a thousand sons, for instance, may be born to a world-ruling prince when such prayers have been offered.

Praying in such a manner, Dhana obtained a hearing, and a Bodisat of the Bhadrakalpa entered into the womb of his good spouse. Some women who are endowed with insight possess five peculiar characteristics, one of which is that they know whether their child will be a boy or a girl. If it is a boy, it clings to the right side, and if a girl, to the left. Full of joy, spake the queen to her husband, “O lord, as the living being which has entered within me clings to the right side, and will certainly be a boy, therefore rejoice.”

The king joyfully drew himself up, and stretched out his right arm, and said, “I shall behold the son whom I have long been desiring. As he will soon be born unto me, he will carry on my work, extend still more widely what has been acquired, and as my heir more widely propagate my race. And when we shall have died, whether we have presented many or few gifts and acquired much or little merit, it will follow after us in that place in which we shall both be born again, and our recompense will ripen through union.”

Thus did he joyfully exclaim. As he knew that conception had taken place, he took care, in order that the existence in the mother’s womb might be allowed to develop thoroughly, that there should be in his palace during the cold weather preservatives against cold, during the hot weather preservatives against heat. According to the directions of the physician, he provided food which was not too bitter, too sour, too salt, too sweet, too hot, or too acid—food which was without bitterness, sourness, saltness, sweetness, heat, or acidity. With strings of pearls of various kinds and with other ornaments he adorned the body of his wife, like unto an Apsaras wandering in the Nandana grove; and he made seats and seats, stools and stools, to prevent her from falling on the ground, and he ordered care to be taken that she should not hear the slightest unpleasant noise.

When eight or nine months had gone by, a boy was born of noble form and lovely aspect, fair and gleaming like unto gold in colour, with a head like a canopy, long arms, a brow of great width, interlacing eyebrows, a high-arched nose, and provided with the full complement of limbs and joints. When the joy-drum was beaten at the birth, the king heard it, and asked what that meant. His wives said, “Be of good cheer, your majesty; unto thee a son is born.” Thereupon the king ordered all stones, gravel, and rubble to be cast forth from the city, the streets to be swept and sprinkled with sandal-water, standards and banners to be set up, extremely fragrant incense to be provided, flowers to be strewed, as though he had been delighted by various dreams, gifts to be bestowed upon the Śramaṇas, the Brahmans, the poor and the needy, and freedom to be given to all prisoners. After thrice seven days, on the twenty-first day, he appointed a great birth-feast. When the question was raised as to what name should be given to the boy, the ministers said, “As this boy is the son of King Dhana, he must be named Sudhana;” and so the name of Sudhana was given to him. The boy Sudhana was handed over to eight nurses, two to carry him, two to suckle him, two to cleanse him, and two to play with him. As these eight nurses fed him and brought him up on milk, both sweet and curdled, on butter, both fresh and clarified, on butter-foam, [82] and on the best of other things, he shot up rapidly like a lotus in a tank. By the time he was grown up he was acquainted with reading and writing, expert at the eight testings and distinguishings, and adroit in his manners; and he was skilled in the five arts, like a king who, coming of the Kshatriya caste and wearing the crown, zealously exercises over men power and might, and, if he rules over this orb, ought to be versed in the various divisions of knowledge and action, as was above mentioned.

His father bestowed upon him three wives—a first wife, a middle wife, and a last wife—and built for his use three separate palaces, for winter, spring, and summer; and in like manner he provided him with parks of three kinds, for winter, spring, and summer. There the young Sudhana, when he went alone, without any retinue, into the upper storey of the palace, diverted and enjoyed himself to the sound of musical instruments.

It happened once that the hunter Phalaka, as he roamed to and fro in search after game, arrived at a certain mountain, and at the foot of this mountain he perceived a Rishi’s hermitage, rich in flowers and fruit. Around it fluttered birds of divers kinds, and there was near it a lake provided with red and white lotuses, and with geese and various kinds of ducks. As he was about to roam over this place of seclusion, he saw a Rishi with long hair on his head and body, and with long nails and a long beard, sitting in a grass hut under a tree. On seeing him he touched the Rishi’s feet with his head, joined the palms of his hands, and said, “Venerable one, how long have you been in this place?”

“Forty years.”

“While you have remained here, have you seen or heard anything strange or wonderful?”

The Rishi, calm of mood, deliberately replied, “Friend, do you see that lake?”

“Venerable one, I see it.”

“That is the Brahmasabhā pool, filled with blue, red, and white lotuses, haunted by swarms of different kinds of birds, extremely rich in waters resembling silver, snow, and hoarfrost in colour. To this pool in the midst of the most fragrant flowers, there comes on the fifteenth day of the month Manoharā the daughter of Druma, the king of the Kinnarīs. Surrounded by five hundred Kinnarīs, she comes in order to bathe, after having washed and anointed her head. During the time of the bath they dance, sing, and make sweet music resound, such as enchants even the beasts of the forest. Even I myself, when I have heard these sounds, experience pleasure and delight for seven whole days. This maiden, O friend, I have seen.”

The hunter Phalaka said to himself, “As I have obtained the Amogha-chain from the Nāga, I will cast it around the Kinnarī Manoharā.” He came, accordingly, after a time, on the fifteenth of the month, bringing the Amogha-chain with him, concealed himself in a thicket not far from the lake, among fruits, flowers, and foliage, and kept watch. When Manoharā, surrounded by five hundred Kinnarīs, with befitting equipments, went into the Brahmasabhā lake to bathe, the hunter Phalaka straightway cast the Amogha-chain, and caught the Kinnarī Manoharā. Held by the chain, she began to bound and to run in the water and to utter shrieks of terror. Hearing these, the Kinnarī band broke up. Looking upon Manoharā, the Kinnarīs saw that she was taken prisoner, and they fled away terrified.

The hunter gazed at Manoharā, who was of an exquisitely proportioned figure and of a lovely countenance, and having gazed at her, he was about to draw near and lay hands upon her; but she said, “Man of low station, touch me not. I am not destined to marry you. As I am worthy of a king of goodly form, you must not lay hands upon me.” The hunter said, “If I do not lay hands upon you you will flee away.” She replied, “I will not flee away. If you will not trust me, take this head-jewel, by means of which I fly heavenwards.” The hunter said, “Who can tell that?” She gave him the head-jewel and said, “I shall always be in the power of him whose hand holds this jewel.” The hunter took the jewel, and led her away with him, just as if she had been secured by bonds.

About this time the youth Sudhana went forth to the chase one day. The hunter saw the youth Sudhana, who was handsome in form and of pleasant aspect; and having seen him he said to himself, “As this is Prince Sudhana, and as he is of goodly form and pleasant aspect, and as he, when he has looked upon this maiden, will take her to wife, I will of my own accord offer her to him as a present.” So he led her, just as if she had been secured by bonds, to Prince Sudhana, and said, after touching his feet, “I offer unto you as a present this gem of a wife; be pleased to accept the gift.” Prince Sudhana looked upon the Kinnarī Manoharā. She was of goodly form and pleasing countenance, with a complexion of remarkable brilliance and with all good properties, adorned with the eighteen signs of the woman, more beautiful than the children of men; the breasts wide apart, and arched like the tortoise Hiraṇyakumbha, firm, plump, extremely round and elastic; the eyes light blue, with small red veins and of elongated form, like young lotuses; the arch of the nose long and high; the lips like coral, gems, pearls, in form like the Bimba fruit; the chin ample and firm; the cheeks marked by very attractive moles; the eyebrows beautifully interlacing, black as a swarm of bees; the arms long and rounded like the spotless full moon; the belly a little overhanging with three deep folds; the upper part of the body a little bent from the down-hanging of the breasts, the under part beautifully formed like a disk; the hands like unto the pith of the banana tree; the legs beautiful from their delicacy and the rounding off of the calves; the veins scarcely visible and free from all crookedness, so that all the limbs were fair to see, proudly moving to the sound of the richly jewel-studded ornaments of the head, neck, and feet, and the many strings of pearls; the hair black and smooth, like unto Sachī, the feet adorned with ornaments; wearing a golden girdle, many strings of pearls hanging down at the belly, the complexion gleaming fair as gold.