Even when sick with heavy sorrow, the virtuous are disinclined to follow

the road of the low-minded, being prevented from such actions by the

firmness of their constancy[112]. This will be taught as follows.

[112] Compare the note on p. 44.

In the time when the Bodhisattva by the practice of his surpassing

virtues, veracity, liberality, tranquillity of mind, wisdom &c., was

exerting himself for the benefit of the creatures, he was, it is said, a

king of the _S_ibis, behaving like the embodied Righteousness and

Discipline, and being intent on promoting the welfare of his subjects

like a father.

1. Being withheld from sinful actions and put in the possession of

virtues by their king, (who was solicitous of their true happiness) as a

father is of his son's, his people rejoiced both in this world and in

the next.

2. For his administration of justice followed the path of righteousness,

and made no difference between kinsmen and the rest of his subjects. It

obstructed for his people the road of wickedness, and accordingly

became, so to speak, a flowery ladder to Heaven.

3. Perceiving the welfare of the creatures to be the effect of

righteousness, this ruler of men knew no other purpose than this. With

all his heart he delighted in the path of righteousness, and did not

allow others to violate its precepts.

Now in the capital of that king one of the principal townsmen had a

daughter of surpassing beauty, the acknowledged pearl of womanhood. The

ravishing loveliness of her figure and charms made her appear like the

embodied goddess _S_rî or Rati or one of the Apsarasas.

4. No one--except only the passionless--having got the sight of her, was

able to withdraw his looks from her figure, as she fascinated by her

beauty the eyes of all who beheld her.

And for this reason her relations called her Unmâdayantî ('she who makes

mad').

Now her father apprised the king of the fact of his having such a

daughter: 'Your Majesty, the very pearl of womanhood has appeared in

your realm. May Your Majesty therefore deign to decide whether you will

accept her as a wife or renounce her.' Then the king ordered some

Brâhmans knowing the auspicious marks of women, to go and see the

maiden, whether she would be a suitable wife for him or not. The father

of Unmâdayantî led them to his house, and ordered his daughter to attend

upon his guests herself. She said she would do so, and commenced to

attend upon them at table in the proper manner. But no sooner did those

Brâhmans...

5. Behold her, than their eyes were compelled to remain closely fixed on

her face. The god of Love had subdued their firmness. They had no power

over their looks and minds, and they got rid of their consciousness as

if drunkenness had befallen them.

Now, as they were not able to keep their grave and modest countenance

nor their imperturbability, still less to take their meal, the

householder removed his daughter out of the reach of their looks and

attended himself on the Brâhmans. Afterwards they took their leave and

went off. And they considered thus: 'The lovely beauty of that maiden

is, in truth, of an exceedingly enchanting nature, it acts like a very

magic spell. For this reason it is not suitable for the king to see her,

much less to make her his queen. Having grown mad by her splendid

beauty, as he doubtless would, he would abate his zeal for performing

his religious and political duties, and his neglect of duly observing

his royal occupations would prove of evil consequence to his subjects,

inasmuch as it would obstruct the sources of their profit and welfare.

6. 'The sight of her would be sufficient to put an obstacle in the way

even of Munis striving after perfect wisdom, how much more may it

obstruct the success of a young prince, who lives in pleasure, and is in

the habit of directing his looks to the objects of sense.

'Therefore it is now suitable to act so and so.' Having thus made up

their mind, they went to the king's presence at a convenient time and

reported this to him: 'We have seen that maiden, great king. She is a

beauty and possesses lovely charms, but no more; she has inauspicious

marks, the foretokens of ruin and ill luck. For this reason Your Majesty

ought not even to see her, how can there be question about wedding her?

7. 'A reprehensible wife veils both the glory and the opulence of two

families; just as a cloudy, moon-concealing night hides the beauty and

the arrangement of all things upon earth and in heaven.'

Thus informed, the monarch imagining her to have inauspicious marks and

not to suit his family, no more desired to possess her; and the

householder, her father, knowing the king's disaffection, married his

daughter to one Abhipâraga, officer of that very king.

Now once, on the occasion of the Kaumudî-festival, it happened that the

king desired to contemplate the splendour of that festivity in his

capital. He mounted his royal chariot and took a drive through the

town, which exhibited a pleasant aspect. Its streets and squares had

been sprinkled and cleansed; their white ground was strewed with

many-coloured flowers; gay flags and banners were floating aloft;

everywhere there was dancing and singing, representations of burlesques,

ballets and music; the mingled scents of flowers, incense, odoriferous

powders, perfumes, garlands, strong liquors, also of the perfumed water

and the ointments used in ablutions, filled the air with fragrance;

lovely articles were being exposed for sale; the principal streets were

thronged by a merry crowd of townsmen and landsmen in their best dress.

While making this tour, the king came near the house of Abhipâraga. Now

Unmâdayantî, who was angry with the king because he had spurned her--had

she not inauspicious marks?--feigning curiosity to see him, placed

herself in his way, illuminating by her brilliant figure the flat roof

of her house, as a flash of lightning does the top of a cloud; he at

least, she thought within her heart, must be able to keep the firmness

of his mind and the power over his senses unshaken by the sight of an

inauspicious person such as I am. Accordingly, while the king, curious

to behold the splendour of his capital, was looking around, his eye

suddenly fell upon her, when she was facing him. On beholding her, the

monarch,

8, 9. Though his eyes were accustomed to the attraction of the wanton

graces of the beauties in his zenana; though, owing to his attachment to

the path of virtue, his disposition was a modest one, and he had

exercised himself in subduing his organs of sense; though he possessed

in a high degree the virtue of constancy; though he had a strong feeling

of shame and his looks were afraid of the looks of young women belonging

to others--notwithstanding this, he could not prevent the Love-god's

triumph, and gazed a long gaze at that woman, powerless to turn his eyes

from her face.

10. 'Is she perhaps the embodied Kaumudî or the Deity of that house? is

she an Apsaras or a Demoness? For it is no human figure she has.'

Thus the king considered and could not look enough at her; and the

chariot passing away did not comply with his heart's desire. He went

back to his palace, like one absent-minded, thinking of nothing but her;

his firmness of mind had been confounded by Manmatha. So he asked his

charioteer Sunanda secretly:

11. 'Do you know, whose is the house that was surrounded by a white

wall, and who is she whose beauty did shine there like lightning in a

white cloud?'

The charioteer answered: 'Your Majesty has a high official named

Abhipâraga. His is that house, and she is his wife, a daughter to

Kirî_t_avatsa, of herself she is called Unmâdayantî.' After hearing

this, the thought that she was the wife of another caused his heart to

faint, and sorrowful meditation made his eyes rigid. Often he heaved

long and deep sighs, and thinking of nothing but her, said in a low

voice to himself:

12. 'Alas! She bears her soft and lovely-sounding name rightly, indeed.

This sweet-smiling Unmâdayantî has made me almost mad.

13. 'I would forget her, yet I see her always in my mind. For my

thoughts are with her, or rather it is she who is the ruler of my mind.

14. 'And this weakness of mind is mine concerning the wife of another!

No doubt, I am mad; shame, it seems, has left me, just as sleep has.

15. 'While absorbed in representing to myself with rapture the grace of

her features, her smiles, her looks, O that sudden sound of the metal

plate[113], reminding me by its bold tone of the regular order of my

royal business, rouses my wrath.'

[113] Strokes on a metal plate, sounding every half-hour, are to

announce the time to the king.

In such a way the king's firmness was shaken by the power of passionate

love. And although he endeavoured to compose his mind, his languishing

appearance and emaciating body, his frequent absorption in thoughts

together with his sighs indicated very clearly his state of being in

love.

16. However great his firmness was in disguising his heart's disease, it

manifested itself in his countenance, his eyes rigid from

thoughtfulness, and his emaciated limbs.

Now Abhipâraga, the king's officer, was skilled in the interpretation of

the expression of the face and of such gestures as betray internal

feelings. When he had observed the behaviour of his master and

discovered its cause, he apprehended evil consequences from it, for he

loved the king and knew the excessive power of the God of Love. So he

asked the king for a secret audience; which having been granted to him,

he went up to his master, and having obtained permission, thus addressed

him:

17, 18. 'While engaged in worshipping the Devas to-day, O lotus-eyed

ruler of men, see, a Yaksha, presenting himself before my eyes, said to

me: "How is it that you ignore the king having fallen in love with

Unmâdayantî?" After speaking so, he disappeared immediately, and I,

solicitous on this account, approached you. If this is true, why, Your

Majesty, do you show in this manner your disaffection to me by your

silence?

'Therefore, may Your Majesty do me the favour of accepting her from my

hand.'

The king was confounded, and dared not lift up his eyes for shame.

Nevertheless, even though he was in the power of Love, he did not suffer

his firmness to falter, thanks to his being conversant with the Law by

long and good practice, and refused that offer in plain terms. 'No, that

may not be. For what reason? Hear.

19. 'I would lose my merit and I know myself not to be immortal.

Further, my wicked deed would be known also to the public. Moreover, if

the fire of sorrow should burn your heart because of that separation, it

would erelong consume you, as fire consumes dry grass.

20. 'And such a deed, which would cause that distress in both this world

and the next and would be committed for this reason by the unwise, the

wise never will do, for this very reason.'

Abhipâraga answered: 'Do not fear, Your Majesty, that you will

transgress the Law herein.

21. 'By assisting in the performance of a gift you will act in

accordance with the Law, whereas by not receiving her from my hand you

would do wrong, since you obstruct the practice of giving.

'Nor do I see in this matter any occasion of damage to the reputation of

Your Majesty. Why?

22. 'This is an arrangement between us; nobody else need know of it? Do

not, therefore, put in your mind the fear of blame by public opinion.

'Further, to me this will be a favour, not a source of grief. Why so?

23. 'What harm can be procured to a faithful heart by the satisfaction

obtained by serving the interest of his master? For this reason you may

quietly indulge in your love; do not apprehend any grief on my side.'

The king replied: 'Stop, stop! no more of that wicked reasoning.

24. 'Surely, your very great attachment to my person prevents you from

understanding that the righteous action which consists in the assistance

to a deed of giving does not exist in the case of every gift.

25. 'Who by exceeding attachment to my person does not heed even his own

life, is my friend, dearer to me than my kinsmen. His wife I am bound to

respect as a friend's.

'You do not well, therefore, enticing me to a sinful action. And what

you assert, "nobody else will know of it," will it be less sinful for

this reason?

26. 'How can happiness be expected for him who commits a wicked action,

though unwitnessed? As little as for him who has taken poison unseen.

Both the pure-sighted Celestials and the holy ascetics among men cannot

fail to witness him.

'Moreover, I tell you this:

27. 'Who may in earnest believe that you do not love her, or that you

will not get into harm, as soon as you have abandoned her?'

Abhipâraga said:

28. 'I am your slave, I with my wife and children. You are my master and

my deity. What infringement of Law, Your Majesty, can there be, then, if

you act as pleases you with respect to this your female slave?

'As to your asserting that I love her, what matters it?

29. 'Yea, my liege, she is my beloved wife, and it is for this very

reason that I desire her to be given to you. He who has given in this

world something dear to him, receives in the next dear objects of

exceeding loveliness.

'Therefore, Your Majesty may take her.'

The king spoke: 'Oh, do not say so! It is impossible for me to do so.

Why?

30. 'I should dare throw myself on a sharp sword or into a fire with

blazing flames, but I shall not be able to offend against Righteousness,

which I have always observed, and to which I owe my royal bliss.'

Abhipâraga said: 'If Your Majesty will not take her, because she is my

wife, then myself will command her to lead the life of a harlot, whom no

one is forbidden to woo. Then Your Majesty may take her.'

The king answered: 'Are you mad?

31. 'If you were to abandon your guiltless wife, you would not only

incur punishment from my part, but having become an object of reproach,

likewise unavoidable grief in this world and hereafter.

'Desist then; do not enforce a bad action. Rather direct your mind to

justice and honesty.'

Abhipâraga said:

32. 'And if by persisting, I really were to do an action which might be

in any respect a violation of Righteousness and the source of censure

among men and of the loss of my happiness--be these consequences

whatever they may--I fain shall front them with my breast, owing to the

gladness of mind I shall feel for having promoted your happiness.

33. 'No one I know in the world is more worthy than you to be worshipped

by a sacrificial offering, O most mighty ruler of the earth. Well then,

with the object of increasing my merit, deign to accept, like an

officiating priest, Unmâdayantî as your sacrificial fee[114].'

[114] Properly speaking, giving the woman into marriage to the

officiating priest at the end of a _s_rauta-sacrifice as his fee

(dakshi_n_â) is the second of the eight classical forms of wedding,

the so-called daivo vivâha_h_.

The king said: 'No doubt it is your great affection for me that prompts

you to the effort to promote my interest without considering what is

right and wrong on your side. But this very consideration induces me the

more to prevent you. Verily, indifference as to the censure of men

cannot at any rate be approved. Look here!

34. 'Who, neglecting Righteousness, does not mind either the censure of

men or the evil consequences in the next world, will attain but this: in

this world people will distrust him; and surely, after death he will be

destitute of bliss.

'And therefore I press this upon your mind.

35. 'Never delight in injuring Righteousness for the sake of life[115].

The sin you would incur would be great and unquestionable, the advantage

trifling and doubtful.

[115] The meaning of this seems to be something like this: 'Do not

seek after temporal pleasure here at the risk of long-lasting

suffering after death.'

'Moreover, you should consider also this.

36. 'The virtuous do not like for themselves a pleasure, procured at the

expense of others, whom they have distressed by bringing them into

disrepute and the like. For this reason, standing on the ground of

Righteousness, I shall bear the charge of my private interests alone

without causing pain to others.'

Abhipâraga replied: 'But how could there be any room for injustice here,

after all, either on my side, if moved by attachment I should take care

of the interest of my master, or on the side of Your Majesty receiving

her as a present from my hand? All _S_ibis, townsmen and landsmen, would

ask: what is the injustice of this deed? Therefore, be pleased to take

her, Your Majesty.'

The king replied: 'Verily, you have the intense desire of assisting me.

But reflect well upon this: Which of us knows the Law best, the whole of

the _S_ibis, you, or I?'

Then Abhipâraga hastily answered:

37. 'Owing to your assiduous and respectful watching of the wise, and

your great regard for sacred lore, and the sagacity of your mind, Your

Majesty ranks with B_ri_haspati as the most competent judge in all

matters taught in the sciences concerning the Triad of objects

(trivarga).'

The king said: 'This being so, you ought not to mislead me in this

matter. Why do I say so?

38. 'The evil and the good of the people depend on the behaviour of

their rulers. For this reason, and taking into account the attachment of

my subjects, I shall continue to love the Path of the Pious above all,

in conformity with my reputation.

39. 'As cows go after the bull in any direction, whether the right or

the wrong one, following his steps, in the very same manner the subjects

imitate the behaviour of their ruler without any scruple and

undauntedly.

'You must take also this into consideration.

40. 'If I should lack the power of ruling my own self, say, into what

condition would I bring this people who long for protection from my

side?

41. 'Thus considering and regardful of the good of my subjects, my own

righteousness, and my spotless fame, I do not allow myself to submit to

my passion. I am the leader of my subjects, the bull of my herd.'

Then Abhipâraga, the king's official, appeased by this constancy of the

king, bowed his head and reverentially folding his hands, spoke:

42. 'Oh! excessively favoured by Destiny are these subjects, having such

a ruler as you are, Illustrious King. Love of Righteousness utterly

disregardful of pleasures is to be searched for even among those who

dwell in penance-groves.

43. 'In you the appellation of "great," O Mahârâ_g_a, is a brilliant

ornament. For the name of a virtue, conferred upon persons devoid of

virtue, has a rather harsh sound, as if used in contempt.

44. 'Nor is there any reason for me to be astonished or agitated by this

grand deed of yours, who are a mine of virtues, as the sea is of

jewels[116].'

[116] This epithet of the sea is very common in Indian rhetorical

style.

* * * * *

In this manner, then, the virtuous, even when sick with heavy sorrow,

are disinclined to follow the road of the low-minded, being prevented

from such actions by the firmness of their constancy [and their being

conversant with the Law by long and good practice. Thus considering, one

ought to exert one's self in practising constancy and the precepts of

the Law].

The tale of the maiden making mad all who see her, and the

love-smitten monarch who prefers walking on the right path and even

death to indulging in passion, is found also outside Buddhism. In

the preface of his edition, Prof. Kern points out its being told

thrice in the Kathâsaritsâgara; in the fifteenth, the thirty-third,

and the ninety-first taraṅga. The last version, being a

Vetâla-tale, is found also in the prose-work Vetâlapa_ñk_avi_ms_ati

(Kathâ 14). Of the non-Buddhistic redactions all agree in this

point, that the king at last dies from love, and that the faithful

officer then kills himself. No doubt, this must be the original

conclusion.

XIV. THE STORY OF SUPÂRAGA.

(Cp. the Pâli _G_âtaka, No. 463; Fausb. IV, 137-143.)

Even speaking the truth on the ground of Righteousness is sufficient to

dispel calamity, what can be said more to assert the good results of

observing the Law? Considering thus, one must observe the Law. This will

be taught now.

In one of his Bodhisattva-existences, the Great Being was, it is said,

an extremely clever steersman. For this is the invariable nature of the

Bodhisattvas, that owing to the innate acuteness of their mind, whatever

branch of science or species of art they desire to know, they will in it

surpass the wisest in the world. Accordingly the High-minded One

possessed every quality required in such a one. Knowing the course of

the celestial luminaries, he was never at a loss with respect to the

regions of the sky; being perfectly acquainted with the different

prognostics, the permanent, the occasional, and the miraculous ones, he

was skilled in the establishment of a given time as proper or improper;

by means of manifold marks, observing the fishes, the colour of the

water, the species of the ground, birds, rocks, &c., he knew how to

ascertain rightly the part of the sea; further he was vigilant, not

subject to drowsiness and sleep, capable of enduring the fatigue of

cold, heat, rain, and the like, careful and patient. So being skilled in

the art of taking a ship out and bringing her home[117], he exercised

the profession of one who conducts the merchants by sea to their

destination. And as his navigation was very successful, he was named

Supâraga[118]. The seaport where he lived bore the same name of

Supâraga, which place is now known as Sûpâraga. Even in his old age, the

sea-traders, longing for a prosperous voyage, applied to him, who was

well-known to be an auspicious person, and entreating him in the most

respectful terms, put him on their ships.

[117] The exact meaning of the Sanskrit terms âhara_n_a and

apahara_n_a is doubtful, but must be something like this.

[118] In the Pâli redaction he is called Suppâraka, and the seaport

where he lives and from whence he undertakes his last voyage is

Bharuka_kkh_a. The form Supâraga is Sanskritised wrongly, in order

to fit the author's etymological fancy. See Prof. Kern's note on

this passage in the various readings of his edition.

So it once happened that merchants who trafficked with Goldland, coming

from Bharuka_kkh_a, longing for a prosperous voyage, touched at the town

of Supâraga and requested that Great Being to embark with them. He

answered them:

1. 'What kind of assistance do you think to find in me? Old age, having

got power over me, makes my eyesight diminish[119]; in consequence of

the many toils I have endured, my attentiveness has grown weak, and even

in my bodily occupations I feel my strength almost gone.'

[119] In the Pâli redaction Suppâraka is wholly blind. This must be

the better tradition on account of his never perceiving himself,

but always hearing from the traders the miraculous objects which

will present themselves in this voyage.

The merchants said: 'We are well acquainted with the bodily state of

Your Honour. But this being so, and taking into account your inability

for labour, we will not cause hardship to you nor give any task into

your charge, but we want you for some other reason.

2. 'The dust touched and hallowed by your lotus-like feet will be

auspicious to our ship and procure her a happy course over yonder sea,

even if assailed by great danger. With this in mind we have applied to

you.'

The Great Being, though subject to the infirmity of old age, went on

board their vessel out of compassion. His embarkment was a cause of

rejoicing for all those merchants, for they thought: 'Now we are assured

of a very successful voyage.' And so they (set off, and) in course of

their voyage reached that Abode of the Snakes who constitute the host of

the Demons, that Pâtâla into which it is difficult to penetrate, that

immense receptacle of water, the Great Ocean, which is haunted by

different kinds of fishes and resounds with the murmuring of its

never-quiet waves, whereas, when impelled by the power of the wind, it

hurries on its billows after the whims of that element; on its bottom

different sorts of ground extend, concealing manifold precious stones,

and its surface is embellished by the various flower-garlands of its

foam.

3. A dark-blue hue, like that of a heap of sapphires, was lying over the

surface of the water, as if it were sky melted by the glowing heat of

the sunbeams, when they lost sight of the coast-line and were running

over the profound ocean which surrounded them on all sides.

The Gâtakamâlâ; Or, Garland of Birth-Stories · 第 11 / 29 段