was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. The Brahman who was
the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi saw the consort of Dīghīti
king of Kosala approaching even from afar. And seeing her, he rose from
his seat, adjusted his upper robe so as to cover one shoulder only,
and bending his joined hands in reverent salutation before the consort
of Dīghīti king of Kosala, thrice breathed forth the utterance: “All
hail! A king of Kosala shall be born of thee! All hail! A king of
Kosala shall be born of thee!” Then he said: “Be not distressed, O
queen. You shall obtain your desire to see at sunrise a fourfold army
drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the
rinsings of swords.”
Thereupon the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king
of Kāsi approached Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached,
he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Thus, O king, the signs
appear: To-morrow at sunrise let the fourfold army be drawn up, clad
in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and let the swords be washed.”
Accordingly Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Do as the
Brahman who is my house-priest has said.” Thus the consort of Dīghīti
king of Kosala obtained her desire to see at sunrise a fourfold army
drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the
rinsings of swords. And when that unborn child had reached maturity,
the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala brought forth a son, and they
called his name Dīghāvu. And in no very long time Prince Dīghāvu
reached the age of reason.
Now to Dīghīti king of Kosala occurred the following thought: “This
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi has done us much injury. He has robbed us of
army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. If
he recognizes us, he will cause all three of us to be put to death.
Suppose I were to cause Prince Dīghāvu to dwell outside of the city!”
Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala caused Prince Dīghāvu to dwell
outside of the city. And Prince Dīghāvu, residing outside of the city,
in no very long time acquired all the arts and crafts.
Now at that time the barber of Dīghīti king of Kosala resided at the
court of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. The barber of Dīghīti king of Kosala
saw Dīghīti king of Kosala residing with his consort in a certain place
on the outskirts of Benāres, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise,
in the guise of a wandering ascetic. When he saw him, he approached
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “O king, Dīghīti king of Kosala is residing
with his consort in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, in a
potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic.”
Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Now then, bring
Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort before me.” “Yes, your
majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience
to his command brought Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort before
him. Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Now then, take
Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort, bind their arms tight behind
their backs with a stout rope, shave their heads, and to the loud
beating of a drum lead them about from street to street, from crossing
to crossing, conduct them out of the South gate, hack their bodies
into four pieces south of the city, and throw the pieces in the four
directions.”
“Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in
obedience to his command took Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort,
bound their arms tight behind their backs with a stout rope, shaved
their heads, and to the loud beating of a drum led them about from
street to street, from crossing to crossing.
Now to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “It is a long
time since I have seen my mother and father. Suppose I were to see my
mother and father!” Accordingly Prince Dīghāvu entered Benāres, and
saw his mother and father, their arms bound tight behind their backs,
their heads shaven, being led about, to the loud beating of a drum,
from street to street, from crossing to crossing. When he saw this, he
approached his mother and father.
Dīghīti king of Kosala saw Prince Dīghāvu approaching even from afar.
When he saw him, he said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Dear Dīghāvu, do
not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not
quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by
love.”
At these words those men said this to Dīghīti king of Kosala: “This
Dīghīti king of Kosala is stark mad, and talks gibberish. Who is
Dīghāvu to him? To whom did he speak thus: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look
long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by
hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love’?” “I am
not stark mad, I assure you, nor do I talk gibberish. However, he that
is intelligent will understand clearly.” For the second and the third
time Dīghīti king of Kosala spoke thus to Prince Dīghāvu, and those men
spoke thus to Dīghīti king of Kosala.
Then those men led Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort about from
street to street, from crossing to crossing, conducted them out of the
South gate, hacked their bodies into four pieces south of the city,
threw the pieces in the four directions, posted a guard of soldiers,
and departed.
Thereupon Prince Dīghāvu entered Benāres, procured liquor, and gave
it to the soldiers to drink. When they were drunk and had fallen, he
gathered sticks of wood, built a pyre, placed the bodies of his mother
and father on the pyre, lighted it, and with joined hands upraised in
reverent salutation thrice made sunwise circuit of the pyre.
Now at that time Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was on an upper floor of his
splendid palace. And Brahmadatta king of Kāsi saw Prince Dīghāvu, with
joined hands upraised in reverent salutation, thrice making sunwise
circuit of the pyre. When he saw this, the following thought occurred
to him: “Without doubt that man is a kinsman or blood-relative of
Dīghīti king of Kosala. Alas, my wretched misfortune, for no one will
tell me the facts!”
Now Prince Dīghāvu went to the forest, wailed and wept his fill,
and wiped his tears away. Then he entered Benāres, went to the
elephant-stable adjoining the royal palace, and said this to the
elephant-trainer: “Trainer, I wish to learn your art.” “Very well,
young man, learn it.” Accordingly Prince Dīghāvu rose at night, at
time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the
elephant-stable.
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi heard him as he rose at night, at time
of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the
elephant-stable. Hearing him, he asked his men: “Who was it, pray,
that rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute
with charming voice in the elephant-stable?” “Your majesty, it was a
young man, the pupil of such-and-such an elephant-trainer, who rose
at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming
voice in the elephant-stable.” “Very well, bring that young man to me.”
“Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in
obedience to his command brought Prince Dīghāvu to him.
“Was it you, young man, who rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang
and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable?” “Yes,
your majesty.” “Very well, young man, sing and play the lute for me.”
“Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi;
and in obedience to his command, desiring to win his favor, sang and
played the lute with charming voice.
Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “You,
young man, may wait upon me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu
to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, and obeyed his command. And Prince Dīghāvu
rose in advance of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, retired after him, obeyed
his every command, conducted himself in a pleasing manner, spoke in
a friendly manner. And in no very long time Brahmadatta king of Kāsi
appointed Prince Dīghāvu to a highly confidential position.
Now Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then,
young man, harness the chariot; I wish to go a-hunting.” “Yes, your
majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having,
in obedience to the king’s command, harnessed the chariot, he said this
to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Your majesty, the chariot is harnessed
for you; do as you think fit.” Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi
mounted the chariot; Prince Dīghāvu drove the chariot. In such wise did
he drive the chariot that the army went one way, the chariot the other.
Now when he had gone a long way, Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this
to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, young man, unharness the chariot. I am
tired: I wish to lie down.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command unharnessed
the chariot and sat down on the ground cross-legged. And Brahmadatta
king of Kāsi lay down, placing his head in Prince Dīghāvu’s lap. So
tired was he that in the mere fraction of a moment he fell asleep.
Thereupon to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “This
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi has done us much injury. He has robbed us of
army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. And he
has killed my mother and father. This would be the very time for me
to satisfy my hatred!” And he drew sword from sheath. Then to Prince
Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “My father said to me in the
hour of death: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For,
dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear
Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.’ It is not fitting that I should
transgress the command of my father.” And he returned sword to sheath.
And this happened a second time, and a third time.
Suddenly Brahmadatta king of Kāsi rose, frightened, agitated, alarmed,
terrified. Thereupon Prince Dīghāvu said this to Brahmadatta king
of Kāsi: “Why, your majesty, did you rise so suddenly, frightened,
agitated, alarmed, terrified?” “Right here, young man, Prince Dīghāvu,
son of Dīghīti king of Kosala, fell upon me with his sword in a dream.
Therefore I rose suddenly, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified.”
Then Prince Dīghāvu, stroking the head of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi with
his left hand, and drawing his sword with his right hand, said this to
Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “I, your majesty, am Prince Dīghāvu, son of
Dīghīti king of Kosala. You have done us much injury. You have robbed
us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses.
And you have killed my mother and father. This would be the very time
for me to satisfy my hatred!”
Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi prostrated himself on his face at
the feet of Prince Dīghāvu, and said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Grant me
my life, dear Dīghāvu! Grant me my life, dear Dīghāvu!” “How have I the
power to grant your majesty your life? Your majesty, however, might
grant me my life.” “Very well, dear Dīghāvu. You grant me my life, and
I will grant you your life.” Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi and Prince
Dīghāvu granted each other their lives and shook hands and swore an
oath not to injure each other.
Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then,
dear Dīghāvu, harness the chariot; let us be going.” “Yes, your
majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having,
in obedience to the king’s command, harnessed the chariot, he said this
to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Your majesty, the chariot is harnessed
for you; do as you think fit.” Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi
mounted the chariot; Prince Dīghāvu drove the chariot. In such wise did
he drive the chariot that in no very long time he came up with the army.
Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi entered Benāres, caused the ministers of
his council to be assembled, and said this: “If, sirs, you were to
see Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala, what would you do
to him?” Some spoke thus: “We, your majesty, would cut off his hands.”
Others spoke thus: “We, your majesty, would cut off his feet.” “We
would cut off his hands and feet.” “We would cut off his ears.” “We
would cut off his nose.” “We would cut off his ears and nose.” “We,
your majesty, would cut off his head.” “Sirs, this is Prince Dīghāvu,
son of Dīghīti king of Kosala; it is not permissible to do anything to
him. He has granted me my life, and I have granted him his life.”
Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “When, dear
Dīghāvu, your father said to you in the hour of death: ‘Dear Dīghāvu,
do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are
not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched
by love,’ what did your father mean by that?” “When, your majesty, my
father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not long,’ what he meant was:
‘Do not cherish hatred long.’ This, your majesty, is what my father
meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not long.’ When, your
majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not short,’ what
he meant was: ‘Do not break with your friends quickly.’ This, your
majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of
death: ‘Not short.’
“When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘For,
dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear
Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love,’ what he meant to have me
understand was this: Your majesty has killed my mother and father. Were
I to deprive your majesty of life, your majesty’s well-wishers would
deprive me of life, and my well-wishers would deprive yours of life.
Thus that hatred would not be quenched by hatred. But as matters stand,
your majesty has granted me my life, and I have granted your majesty
his life. Thus hatred has been quenched by love. This, your majesty,
is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘For,
dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear
Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.’”
Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi exclaimed: “O how wonderful, O how
marvelous, that this Prince Dīghāvu should understand in its fulness a
matter which his father expressed so briefly!” And he restored to him
the army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses of
his fathers, and gave him his daughter in marriage.
“For, monks, of these kings who took the rod, who took the sword,
such is said to have been the patience and gentleness. How much more,
monks, should you, who have retired from the world under a Doctrine
and Discipline so well taught, let your light so shine in this world
as to be known of men as patient and gentle.” And for the third
time the Exalted One said this to those monks: “Enough, monks! No
quarreling! No brawling! No contending! No wrangling!”
_7. Antelope, Woodpecker, Tortoise, and Hunter._
_In union there is strength._
Jātaka 206: ii. 152-155.
On a certain occasion the Teacher related the following story:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was
an antelope and made his home in a certain thicket in a forest, not
far from a certain lake. Not far from that same lake, on the tip of a
certain tree, perched a woodpecker. Moreover in the lake a tortoise
made his home. Thus did those three live together as friends, kindly
affectionate one towards another.
Now a certain hunter, on his way through the forest, seeing the tracks
of the Future Buddha at the place where the animals went to drink, set
a trap, resembling an iron foot-chain, only made of leathern strips,
and went his way. In the very first watch of the night the Future
Buddha, coming to drink of the water, became entangled in the trap and
cried the cry of a captured animal.
When he made that sound, from the tip of the tree came the woodpecker
and out of the water came the tortoise. And they took counsel
together, saying: “What’s to be done now?” Then said the woodpecker,
addressing the tortoise: “Master, you have teeth; you saw this trap in
two. I’ll go and manage things in such a way that that hunter sha’n’t
come near. Thus, if the two of us do our very best, our friend will
save his life.” And explaining this matter, he uttered the first stanza:
Come, tortoise! use your teeth, and cut the leathern trap!
I’ll manage things in such a way the hunter shall not come!
The tortoise began to chew the strips of leather. The woodpecker went
to the village where the hunter lived. At the first signs of dawn,
the hunter took his knife and started to leave the house. The bird,
observing that he was leaving the house, shrieked, flapped his wings,
and struck him in the face just as he was coming out of the front door.
Thought the hunter: “I have been struck by a bird of evil omen.” So he
went back, lay down for a little while, and then got up again and took
his knife.
The bird knew: “This fellow first came out of the front door. This time
he will come out of the back door.” So he went and perched back of the
house. As for the hunter, he thought: “When I went out of the front
door, I saw a bird of evil omen. This time I will go out of the back
door.” So he went out of the back door. Again the bird shrieked, flew
at him, and struck him in the face. The hunter, struck once again by
that bird of evil omen, made up his mind: “That bird will not permit me
to go out.” So he went back, lay down until the dawn came up, and when
it was dawn, took his knife and went out. The bird went quickly and
told the Future Buddha: “The hunter is coming!”
At that moment the tortoise had chewed all of the strips except just
one strap. But his teeth had got to the point where they were ready to
drop, and his jaws were smeared with blood. The Future Buddha saw the
hunter, knife in hand, coming on with lightning-speed. Rending that
strap, he entered the wood. The bird perched on the tip of the tree.
But the tortoise was so weak that he continued to lie right there. The
hunter threw the tortoise into a sack and hung the sack on some stump
or other.
[Illustration: _At that moment the tortoise had chewed all of the
strips except just one strap._]
The Future Buddha came back, looked about, and perceived that the
tortoise had been taken captive. “I will grant my friend the boon of
life!” he resolved. So feigning weakness, he showed himself to the
hunter. “That antelope must be very weak,” thought the hunter: “I will
kill him.” And knife in hand, he started after him. The Future Buddha,
keeping not too far away and not too near, led him on and entered the
forest. When he thought he had gone far enough, he disguised his
tracks, went by another path with the speed of the wind, lifted the
sack on his horn, flung it on the ground, broke it open, and let out
the tortoise. As for the woodpecker, he came down from the tree.
The Future Buddha, admonishing his two friends, said: “I, through you,
have obtained my life. You have done for me what a friend should do for
a friend. At any moment the hunter may come and catch you. Therefore,
Master woodpecker, do you take your fledglings and go elsewhere; and do
you, Master tortoise, enter the water.” They did so.
The Teacher, as Supreme Buddha, uttered the second stanza:
The tortoise entered the water,
The antelope entered the wood,
The woodpecker from that dangerous path
Took his fledglings far away.
When the hunter returned to that spot and saw nothing at all, he took
the tattered sack and went to his own house in deep dejection. As for
those three friends, they lived all their lives long with never a break
in their friendly relations, and then passed away according to their
deeds.
_8. Brahmadatta and Mallika._
_Overcome evil with good._
Jātaka 151: ii. 1-5.
On a certain occasion king Pasenadi Kosala, after deciding
litigations in the Hall of Justice, came hastily to pay his respects
to the Teacher. Said the Teacher: “Great king, to decide litigations
righteously and justly is a good thing. It is the Path to Heaven. But
this is no remarkable thing, that you, receiving admonition from an
Omniscient Buddha like me, should decide litigations righteously and
justly. This alone is remarkable, that kings of old, listening to the
words of men who were wise but not omniscient, decided litigations
righteously and justly, avoided the Four Evil Courses, kept inviolate
the Ten Royal Virtues, ruled justly, and departed fulfilling the Path
to Heaven.” Then, in response to a request of the king, he related
the following Story of the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha
received a new existence as the child of his chief consort. On his
name-day he was given the name Prince Brahmadatta. In due time he grew
up. When he was sixteen years old, he went to Takkasilā, acquired
proficiency in all the arts and crafts, and on the death of his father,
became established in the kingdom.
He ruled righteously and justly. He avoided the Four Evil Courses
in rendering judgments. Since he himself ruled so righteously,
the ministers of justice also transacted their affairs with an eye
to righteousness alone. Since the ministers of justice transacted
their affairs righteously, there were no men who brought dishonest
litigations. For lack of them, hubbub over litigations in the king’s
courtyard ceased. Every day ministers of justice took their seats
in the place of litigation, but seeing no one come for litigation,
departed. The place of litigation became abandoned.
The Future Buddha thought: “Since I have been ruling righteously, no
men at all have come for litigation, the hubbub has ceased, the place
of litigation has become abandoned. The time has come for me to find
out whether I have any fault. If I know, ‘This, for example, is a
fault in me,’ I will get rid of it and have to do with good qualities
only.” From that time on he mingled with indoor-folk and tested them
with the question, “Is there anybody who says I have a fault?” He met
with no one who said he had a fault, but heard mentioned only his own
good qualities. “It may be because these people are afraid of me that
they refrain from mentioning faults in me and speak only of my good
qualities.”
He tested the outdoor-folk, but among them also met no one. He tested
those who dwelt within the city. He took his stand in the settlements
at the four gates and tested those who dwelt without the city. Among
them also he met with no one who said he had a fault, but heard
mentioned only his good qualities. “I will test the countryside,”
thought he. So turning over the kingdom to his ministers, he mounted
his chariot, departed from the city in disguise, accompanied only
by his charioteer, and went as far as the frontier testing the
countryside. Meeting with no one who said he had a fault, but hearing
mentioned only his good qualities, he turned back from the frontier and
started back for the city on the highway.
Now at this time a king of Kosala named Mallika, a righteous ruler, was
also trying to find out whether he had any faults. Meeting with no one
among either indoor-folk or others who said he had a fault, but hearing
mentioned only his own good qualities, he went to that region testing
the countryside. Both kings met face to face in a single wagon-track
leading through a swamp. There was no room for either chariot to turn
out.
Now King Mallika’s charioteer said to the charioteer of the king of
Benāres: “Get your chariot out of the way!” Said the charioteer of the
King of Benāres: “Master charioteer, get your chariot out of the way!
In this chariot sits the lord of the realm of Benāres, the mighty king
Brahmadatta!” Retorted King Mallika’s charioteer: “Master charioteer,
in this chariot sits the lord of the realm of Kosala, the mighty king
Mallika! Get your chariot out of the way! Make room for the chariot
of our king!” Thought the charioteer of the king of Benāres: “He also
is every inch a king, to be sure. What’s to be done?” He came to the
conclusion: “This is the way: I will find out the ages of the two kings
and cause the chariot of the younger to turn out and make room for the
chariot of the older.”