In the reign of King Mindoon, who was the father of King Theebaw, a
servant sent a petition to him in which he set forth that he had been
his humble and faithful servitor before his accession to the throne, but
now, although seven long years had gone by since then, he had remained
forgotten and unnoticed. Continuing in this strain for a space, he ended
with the following parable:--
In the Zita country there lived a King who had a son named Padoma, whom
he sent to Thakada to be educated, and with him he sent a young
attendant called Thomana.
For three years they stayed at Thakada, at the end of which period the
Prince, having completed his studies, prepared to return home; on their
way, travelling by easy stages, they paused at a small village situated
in deep-wooded lands, where a great feast was being held. Hundreds of
people had gathered there from all parts. A large tent was erected in
one part, where a banquet was spread, to partake of which they humbly
begged the Prince.
And he willingly accepted.
On the ground had been spread matting, on a part of which a gorgeously
embroidered scarlet cloth with a golden fringe was put for the Prince,
and a white one, less magnificently worked and with a silver fringe, for
his friend and attendant Thomana.
When they had seated themselves, the rest of the company did likewise,
remaining, however, at a distance, and separated by a cord.
Now Thomana was very learned in astrology, having read and thought
deeply on that subject, and he knew as soon as he saw the Prince seat
himself on the red cloth that he would become King upon that very day.
It was a brilliant assembly, every one clad in delicate silks of all
hues, and glittering with jewels. The feast lasted long, it seemed,
indeed, as if the constant succession of dishes was to be an endless
one. All were in the best of spirits, and laughed and talked greatly.
When the Prince had finished his repast, he was shown into an inner
tent, where a couch of the same royal colour had been placed, and in
front was a slightly raised platform of bamboo, draped with violet and
rose-pink satin, richly worked and lighted with lamps, that shed a
subdued radiance round and about the little graceful figures of several
dancing girls who had been bidden to dance for his royal highness.
Their dresses were so formed as to represent armour, and on their heads
were similar coverings. They performed peculiar, dreamy, kind of
movements, amidst a mist of varying hues. The Prince was much
interested, and postponed retiring until late.
Thomana, having bidden his royal master good-night, felt disinclined for
sleep, so, strolling into a park-like demesne that was adjacent, he
seated himself under a large tree, whose branches spread for a
considerable way, and became lost in thought.
It was a glorious night, with not a sound in the air save the soft whirr
of some purpled-eyed or golden-winged insect as it floated by in the
darkness. As he sat there musing on the events of the evening and the
future of the Prince, two large leaves fell from above into his hand:
one was old and withered, the other was fresh and green. "Ah," he
murmured, as he looked at them, "in the same way as an old and a young
leaf drops from the tree, so may a man full of years and one who is in
the morning of life die at the same time."
In the midst of his meditations, which lasted long, he became a
rahan,[3] and was taken from the garden to the Gandremadana Mountains.
At the same time a chariot of pearl, drawn by four pure white horses
with trappings of gold, was on its way to the Prince to carry him back,
as his father had died that day. Following the chariot came four
ministers and a train of Court officials, accompanied by soldiers.
[3] "Rahan," _i.e._, one possessed of supernatural powers.
They awakened the sleeping Prince and acquainted him with their news.
Then, when he was prepared, he stepped into the chariot that was
waiting, and was borne with all speed to the palace, where he was
proclaimed King the following day with the utmost pomp, ceremony, and
rejoicings.
In his new life, and amidst his many duties and responsibilities, he
entirely forgot the existence of his attendant, who had been his
constant companion for three years; therefore his absence passed
unrecorded and unnoticed; for what the King forgets the courtiers must
never be unwise enough to remember.
At the end of thirty years, when the King was getting old, he remembered
Thomana, and wondered greatly where he might be. Whereupon he
immediately caused it to be made known throughout his dominions that he
would give a lac of rupees to any one who should give him any news of
his lost servant.
Now Thomana, owing to his great piety and powers of clairvoyance, became
aware immediately of the fact that his old master had recollected him,
and desired his presence. Therefore he went at once to the garden where
he had been seated before he attained his rahanship so many years
before. Close by the tree, under whose branches he had sat, were four
shepherd boys, their flocks grazing near, while they themselves talked
together of the big reward that the King had offered for news of his old
servant.
Thomana, coming through the leafy aisles, heard them, and accosted them,
declaring that he was the person whom the King desired. They rose and
glanced at him doubtingly.
"Let two of you," he said, "go to the palace and tell His Majesty, that
I await him here." To which they assented.
A short while passed, and then an immense carriage, glittering like gold
and silver in the sun, and followed by others less imposing, could be
seen coming rapidly along the white winding road. Pulling up at the
entrance, the King himself alighted, and came through the gates, that
were all brazen and blazoned, straight towards Thomana, his arms
outstretched to embrace him; but he whom he would have greeted so
cordially stopped him, saying--
"I am now a rahan; with men, their feelings, their passions, their brief
triumphs, and sorrows, likes and dislikes, I have no affinity." Then he
folded his arms and stood in silence.
His face was very cold and still.
The King, looking at him, saw that he was poorly clad, and bent, and
thin, and pressed him to return to the Court, where he promised him
money and many wives.