Pray, first satisfy my curiosity, and tell me this. Who may have
discovered my abode to thee, far as it is from the paths of men, saying
that I, such a deer, dwell in this thicket?'
The king, touched by this wonderful address in a human voice and taking
still more interest in him, showed him that man with the point of his
arrow. 'This man,' he said, 'has disclosed thy extremely marvellous
person to us.' But the Bodhisattva knowing again that man, spoke
disapprovingly: 'Fie upon him!
24, 25. 'It is a true saying, in truth "better is it to take a log out
of the water than to save an ungrateful person from it." In this manner
he returns that exertion made in his behalf! How is it that he did not
see that he destroyed his own happiness, too, at the same time?'
Now the king, being curious to know what he might thus reproach, vividly
said to the ruru-deer:
26, 27. 'On hearing thee censure somebody without catching the meaning
of thy obscure words or knowing with respect of whom thou spokest them,
my mind is somewhat alarmed. Therefore, tell me, wonderful deer, who is
he on whose account thou speakest so? Is it a man or a spirit, a bird or
perhaps a forest-animal?'
The Bodhisattva spoke:
28. 'No desire of blaming prompted me, O king, to this utterance, but
becoming aware of this blame-deserving action, I spoke sharp words in
order to prevent him from attempting to do such a thing again.
29. 'For who would like to use harsh language to those who have
committed a sin, strewing, so to speak, salt upon the wound of their
fault? But even to his beloved son a physician is obliged to apply such
medical treatment as is made necessary by his illness.
30. 'He whom I, moved by pity, rescued, when he was carried off by the
current, is the man who made this danger arise for me, O best of men.
Indeed, intercourse with wicked people does not tend to bliss.'
Then the king, casting on that man a stern look expressive of harsh
reproach, asked him: 'Oh, in truth, wast thou rescued before from such a
distress by this deer?' And the man, who was pale and perspired with
fear, sorrow, and dejection, answered in a low tone of shame: 'Yes, I
was.' Upon which the king revilingly exclaimed: 'Fie upon thee!' and
placing the arrow on the bowstring he continued: 'Do not think it a
trifle!
31. 'He whose heart was not even softened by an exertion like that
employed in thy behalf, is a vile representative of his fellow-creatures
and brings them into dishonour. Why should this lowest of men live any
longer?'
With these words he grasped his bow in the middle and bent it in order
to kill him. But the Bodhisattva, overpowered by his great compassion,
placed himself between, saying to the king: 'Stop, Your Majesty, stop,
do not strike one already stricken!
32. 'At the very moment that he listened to the culpable enticement of
Cupidity, his enemy, at that moment surely, he was ruined both in this
world, because of the loss of his good name, and in the next too, his
righteousness being destroyed.
33. 'Yea, in this way, when their soundness of mind has faded away in
consequence of unbearable sufferings, men fall into calamities, being
allured by the prospect of rich profit, like foolish moths attracted by
the shining of a light.
34. 'Thou must, therefore, rather pity him and restrain thy wrath. And
if he wanted to obtain something by so acting, let not his rash deed
lack that reward. For lo, I am standing here with bent head awaiting thy
orders.'
This merciful and sincere desire to reward even the man who had
ill-treated him excited the highest surprise of the king. His heart
became converted, and looking up with veneration to the ruru-deer, he
exclaimed: 'Well said, well said, holy being.
35. 'Verily, showing such mercy to him whose cruel offence against thee
is evident, thou art a human being by thy properties, we do bear but the
shape of men.
36. 'Further, since thou deemest this knave worth commiseration, and
since he has been the cause of my seeing a virtuous person, I give him
the wealth he coveted and to thee the permission to go freely in this
kingdom wherever it pleases thee.'
The ruru-deer said: 'I accept this royal boon, illustrious king, which
is not given in vain. Therefore, deign to give me thy orders, that our
meeting here may afford thee profit and that I may be of some use to
thee.' Then the king made the ruru-deer mount his royal chariot,
worshipping him like his teacher, and led him with great pomp to his
capital. And having given him the reception due to a guest and invited
him to place himself on the royal throne, he with his wives and the
whole retinue of his officers exhorted him to preach the Law, and
raising his eyes to him with a kind expression of gladness mixed with
reverence, entreated him in this manner:
37. 'There is a great diversity of opinions among men concerning the
Law, but thou possessest the certainty about the Law. Deign, therefore,
to preach it to us.'
Upon which the Bodhisattva raised his voice and preached the Law to the
king and his royal assembly in words distinctly spoken in a soft tone
and elegantly composed.
38. 'Of the Law with the manifold performances depending on it and with
its subdivisions: abstaining from injuring others, from theft, &c.,
this, I believe, is the brief summary "Mercy to the creatures."
'Look here, illustrious prince.
39. 'If mercy to all creatures should make men hold them like themselves
or their own family, whose heart would ever cherish the baleful desire
for wickedness?
40. 'But the lack of mercy is to men the cause of the greatest
disturbance, as it corrupts the action of their minds and words and
bodies no less with respect to their family than to strangers.
41. 'For this reason he who strives for Righteousness ought to keep to
mercy, which will yield rich profit. Mercy[187], indeed, engenders
virtues, as a fructifying rain makes the crops grow.
[187] In the fourth pâda of this stanza sa is a misprint for sâ.
42. 'Mercy, possessing a man's mind, destroys in it the passion for
injuring one's neighbour; and his mind being pure, neither his speech
nor his body will be perverted. So the love of one's neighbour's good
always increases and becomes the source of many other virtues: charity,
forbearance, and so on, which are followed by gladness of mind and are
conducive to reputation.
43. 'The merciful one does not arouse apprehension in the mind of others
because of his tranquillity. Owing to his mercy, everybody will hold him
a person to be trusted, as if he were their kinsman. No agitation of
passion will seize him whose heart has been made firm by mercy, nor does
the fire of anger blaze within his mind which enjoys the coolness of
water, thanks to mercy.
44. 'Why use many words? For this reason the wise firmly believe that in
Mercy the whole of Righteousness is contained. What virtue, indeed,
cherished by the pious does there exist which is not the consequence of
Mercy? Having this in mind, be intent on ever fortifying thy mercy to
all people, holding them like thy son, like thyself; and winning by thy
pious conduct the hearts of thy people, mayst thou glorify thy royalty!'
Then the king praised these words of the ruru-deer, and with his
townsmen and landsmen became intent on acting up to the Law of
Righteousness. And he granted security to all quadrupeds and birds.
* * * * *
In this manner, then, for the virtuous no suffering exists but that of
others. It is this they cannot bear, not their own suffering. [This
story is also to be told when discoursing on compassion, and may be
adduced when treating of the high-mindedness of the virtuous, also when
censuring the mischievous.]
XXVII. THE STORY OF THE GREAT MONKEY.
(Cp. the Pâli _G_âtaka, No. 407, Fausb. III, 370-375.)
Those who follow the behaviour of the virtuous win over even the hearts
of their enemies. This will be taught as follows.
In the heart of the Himavat there is a blessed region, whose soil is
covered with many kinds of herbs of different efficacious properties,
and abounds in hundreds of forest-trees with their great variety and
manifold arrangement of boughs, twigs, flowers, and fruits. It is
irrigated by mountain-currents whose water possesses the limpidity of
crystals, and resounds with the music of manifold crowds of birds. In
that forest the Bodhisattva lived, it is said, a chief of a troop of
monkeys. But even in that state--in consequence of his constant practice
of charity and compassion--jealousy, selfishness, and cruelty, as if
they were at war with him because he attended on their enemies (the
virtues), would not enter his mind. There he had his residence on a
large banian tree, which by its height, standing out superior against
the sky like the top of a mountain, might pass for the lord of that
forest, and by the thickness of its branches beset with dark foliage,
resembled a mass of clouds. Those branches were somewhat curved, being
loaded with excellent fruits of a size surpassing that of palmyra-nuts,
and distinguished by an exceedingly sweet flavour and a lovely colour
and smell.
1. The virtuous, even when they are in the state of animals, have still
some remainder of good fortune[188] which tends to the happiness of
their friends, for whose sake they employ it, in the same manner as the
remainder of the wealth of people abroad may serve the wants of their
friends.
[188] In other words it is said, that though their store of merit,
producing good fortune, must have been exhausted according to their
being born beasts, yet there is left some remainder, the effect of
which may assuage them in that low state. Cp. Story XXXIII, stanza
2.
Now one branch of that tree hung over a river which passed by that
place[189]. Now the Bodhisattva, far-sighted as he was, had instructed
his flock of monkeys in this manner: 'Unless ye prevent this
banian-branch from having fruit, none of you will ever be able to eat
any fruit from the other branches[190].' Now it once happened that the
monkeys overlooked one young and for this reason not very big fruit,
hidden as it was in the cavity of some leaf crooked by ants. So that
fruit grew on, and in time developed its fine colour, smell, flavour,
and softness; when it had ripened and its stalk became loose, it dropped
into the river. Being carried down the stream, it stuck at last in the
net-work of a fence (let down in the river by the orders) of a certain
king, who, with his harem, was sporting at that time in the water of
that river.
[189] In the Pâli redaction that river is the Ganges and the king
Brahmadatta of Benares.
[190] Considering the abruptness of the narration, it seems there
is something wanting in the text. In the Pâli redaction it is told
that the Bodhisattva, having warned the monkeys that a fruit of
that tree would fall in the water and bring them mischief, causes
them to destroy all germs of fruit on that branch in blossom-time.
2. Spreading about its delicious smell of great excellency and
delightful to the nose, that fruit made the different other odours
disappear, that exhaled there from the garlands, the rum, and the
perfumes of the bathing women, however those scents were intensified by
the union of the women interlacing each other.
3. This smell soon enchanted the women; they enjoyed it with prolonged
inhalations and half-shut eyes. And being curious to know its origin,
they cast their eyes in all directions.
And while casting their eyes, stirred by curiosity, all around, the
women perceived that banian fig, surpassing by its size a ripe
palmyra-nut, as it stuck to the net-work of the fence, and having once
discovered it, they could not keep their eyes from it. Nor was the king
less curious to know the nature of that fruit. He had it brought to him,
and after examination by reliable physicians tasted it himself.
4. Its marvellous flavour (rasa) raised the king's amazement, as (in a
dramatic composition) the marvellous sentiment (rasa), ravishing (the
mind of the spectators) by a good representation, rouses their
admiration.
5. Had its extraordinary colour and smell stirred his surprise before,
now its flavour filled him with the highest admiration, and agitated him
with lust.
Though accustomed to dainties, the king became so eager to enjoy that
relish that this thought came to him:
6. 'If one does not eat those fruits, in truth, what fruit does one
enjoy from his royalty? But he who gets them is really a king, and this
without the toil of exercising royal power.'
Accordingly, having made up his mind to find out its origin, he reasoned
in this way to himself. 'Surely, the excellent tree, whence came this
fruit, cannot be far from here and it must stand on the riverside. For
it cannot have been in contact with the water for a long time, since it
has kept its colour, smell, and flavour intact, and is moreover
undamaged and shows no trace of decomposition. For this reason, it is
possible to pursue its origin.' Having so resolved, as he was possessed
by a strong desire for that delicious flavour, he ceased that
water-sport, and, after taking such measures as were suitable for the
maintenance of order in his capital (during his absence), set out,
accompanied by a great body of armed people equipped for expedition.
With them he marched up the river and enjoyed the different and various
sensations proper to journeying in a forest-region, clearing his way
through thickets haunted by ferocious animals, beholding woodlands of
great natural beauty, and frightening elephants and deer by the noise of
his drums. At last he reached the neighbourhood of that tree, a place
difficult for men to approach.
7. Like a mass of clouds hanging down by the burden of their water, this
lord of trees appeared from afar to the eyes of the king, dominating the
other trees which seemed to look up to it as to their sovereign, and,
though it stood near a steep mountain, resembling a mountain itself.
The exceedingly lovely smell, more fragrant than that of ripe mango
fruits, which was spreading from it and met the army as if it went to
receive it, made the king sure that this was the tree he sought for.
Coming near, he saw many hundreds of apes filling its boughs and
branches and occupied in eating its fruits. The king became angry with
those monkeys who robbed him of the objects so ardently longed for, and
with harsh words as 'Hit them! hit them! drive them away, destroy them
all, these scoundrels of monkeys!' he ordered his men to assail them.
And those warriors made themselves ready to shoot off the arrows from
their bows (strung), and uttered cries to frighten away the monkeys;
others lifted up clods and sticks and spears to throw at them. They
invaded the tree, as if they were to attack a hostile fortress.
But the Bodhisattva had perceived the approach of that noisy royal army
moving with loud tumult and uproar, like the billows of a sea roused by
the violence of the wind; he had seen the assault made on all sides of
his excellent tree with a shower of arrows, spears, clods, sticks, which
resembled a shower of thunderbolts; and he beheld his monkeys unable to
do anything but utter discordant cries of fear, while they looked up to
him with faces pale with dejection. His mind was affected with the
utmost compassion. Being himself free from affliction, sadness, and
anxiety, he comforted his tribe of monkeys, and having resolved upon
their rescue, climbed to the top of the tree, desirous to jump over to
the mountain-peak near it. And although that place could be reached only
by many successive leaps, the Great Being, by dint of his surpassing
heroism, passed across like a bird and held the spot.
8. Other monkeys would not be able to traverse that space even in two
successive leaps, but he, the courageous one, swiftly crossed it with
one single bound, as if it were a small distance.
9. His compassion had fostered his strong determination, but it was his
heroism which brought it to its perfection. So he made his utmost effort
to carry it out, and by the earnestness of his exertion he found the way
to it in his mind.
Having mounted, then, on some elevated place of the mountain-slope, he
found a cane, tall and strong, deep-rooted and strong-rooted, the size
of which surpassed the distance (between the mountain and the tree).
This he fastened to his feet, after which he jumped back to the tree.
But as the distance was great and he was embarrassed by his feet being
tied, the Great Being hardly succeeded in seizing with his hands the
nearest branch of the tree.
10. Then holding fast that branch and keeping the cane stretched by his
effort, he ordered his tribe, making them the signal proper to his race,
to come quickly off the tree.
And the monkeys, as they were bewildered by fear, having found that way
of retreat, hastened to make use of it, wildly rushing over his body
without regard to him, and safely escaped along that cane.
11. While being incessantly trodden by the feet of those fear-bewildered
monkeys, his body lost the solidity of its flesh, but his mind did not
lose its extraordinary firmness.
On beholding this, the king and his men were overcome with the utmost
astonishment.
12. Such a splendid display of strength and wisdom, combined with such
great self-denial and mercy to others, must rouse wonder in the minds of
those who hear of it; how much more did it affect the bystanders who
witnessed it?
Then the king commanded his men in this manner: 'This chief of apes,' he
said, 'having his limbs shaken and bruised by the feet of the multitude
of monkeys who, agitated by fear, ran over his body, and remaining in
that same position for a long time, must be excessively tired. Surely,
he will be unable to retire from this difficult posture by himself.
Therefore, quickly dress a canopy underneath the place where he is,
which being done, the cane and the banian branch must be shot off
simultaneously, with one arrow each.' And they did so. Then the king
ordered the monkey to be gently lifted off the canopy and placed on a
soft couch. There he lay without consciousness, for in consequence of
the pain of his wounds and his exhaustion he had swooned. After his
wounds had been salved with clarified butter and other ointments
suitable for the relief of fresh bruises, his faintness grew less. When
he had recovered his senses, he was visited by the king, who, affected
with curiosity, admiration, and respect, after asking him about his
health, continued thus:
13. 'Thou madest thy body a bridge for those monkeys, and feeling no
mercy for thy own life, rescuedst them. What art thou to them or what
are they to thee?
14. 'If thou deemest me a person worth hearing this matter, pray, tell
it me, foremost of monkeys. No small fetters of friendship, methinks,
should fasten one's mind to enable it to do the like performances.'
In reply to these words the Bodhisattva, in return for the king's wish
to relieve him, made himself known in a proper manner. He said:
15. 'Those, always prompt to act up to my orders, charged me with the
burden of being their ruler. And I, for my part, bound to them with the
affection of a father for his children, engaged myself to bear it; so I
did.
16. 'This, mighty sovereign, is the kind of relation existing between
them and me. It is rooted by time and has increased the friendly
feelings existing between animals of the same species. Our dwelling
together has strengthened it to the mutual affection of kinsmen.'
On hearing this, the king affected with great admiration replied:
17. 'The ministers and the rest of his officials are to serve the
interest of their lord, not the king to serve theirs. For what, then,
did Your Honour sacrifice yourself in behalf of your attendants?'
The Bodhisattva spoke: 'Verily, such is the lore of Political Wisdom
(râ_g_anîti), Your Majesty, but to me it seems something difficult to
follow.
18. 'It is excessively painful to overlook heavy and unbearable pain,
even if the sufferer be somebody unacquainted with us. How much more, if
those suffer who, having their minds intent on worshipping us, are like
dear relations to us!
19. 'So, on seeing distress and despair overwhelming the monkeys in
consequence of their sudden danger, a great sorrow overcame me, which
did not leave me room to think of my personal interest.
20. 'Perceiving the bows bent and the glittering arrows fly upward on
all sides, and hearing the dreadful noise of the strings, hastily and
without further consideration I jumped over from the tree to the
mountain.
21. 'Then--for the distress of my poor comrades, overcome with the
highest degree of terror, drew me back to them--I tied a cane fast to my
feet, a well-rooted reed, suitable for the effort at which I aimed.
22. 'So I jumped once more, leaping from the mountain-side to the tree,
in order to rescue my comrades, and with my hands I attained its nearest
branch stretched out like a hand to meet me.
23. 'And while I was hanging there with extended body between that cane
and that outstretched branch of the tree, those comrades of mine happily
made their escape, running without hesitation over my body.'
The king, perceiving the ecstasy of gladness, which even in that
miserable condition pervaded the Great Being, and much wondering at it,
again spoke to him:
24. 'What good has Your Honour obtained, thus despising your own welfare
and taking upon yourself the disaster which threatened others?'
The Bodhisattva spoke:
25. 'Verily, my body is broken, O king, but my mind is come to a state
of the greatest soundness, since I removed the distress of those, over
whom I exercised royal power for a long time.
26. 'As heroes who have vanquished their proud enemies in battle wear on
their limbs the beautiful marks of their prowess like ornaments, so I
gladly bear these pains.
27. 'Now I have requited them that long succession of prosperity which I
got by the chieftaincy over my tribe, that showed me not only their
reverence and other marks of worship, but also their affectionate
attachment.
28. 'For this reason, this bodily pain does not grieve me, nor the
separation from my friends, nor the destruction of my pleasure, nor my
approaching death which I have incurred by thus acting. It seems to me
rather the approach of a high festival.
29, 30. 'Self-satisfaction gained by requital of former benefits,
appeasement of the solicitude (caused thereby), a spotless fame, honour
on the part of a king, fearlessness of death, and the approbation which
my grateful behaviour will meet with from the virtuous: these good
qualities, O thou who, like a tree[191], art the residence of excellent
virtues!--have I obtained by falling in with this wretched state. But
the vices opposite to these virtues will be met by such a king as is
without mercy for his dependents.
[191] This simile is not improper, the speaker being a monkey.
31. 'For, if a king be devoid of virtues, if he have destroyed his good
renown and vices have taken up their abode in him, say, what else may he
expect than to go to the fierce-flaming fires of hell?
32. 'For this reason I have explained to thee, powerful prince, the
power of virtues and vices. Rule, therefore, thy realm with
righteousness. For Fortune shows in her affections the fickle nature of
a woman.
33. 'His army, not only the military men but also the animals of war;
his officials; his people, both townsmen and landsmen; those who have no
protector; and both (classes of religious people) _S_rama_n_as and
Brâhmans; all of them must a king endeavour to endow with such happiness
as is conducive to their good, as if he were their father.
34. 'In this manner increasing in merit, wealth, and glory, thou mayst
enjoy prosperity both in this world and in the next. With this kind of
felicity proper to the holy kings of old (râ_g_arshis) and attainable by
practising commiseration towards thy subjects, mayst thou be
illustrious, O king of men!'
35. After thus instructing the king who, like a pupil, listened to him
with devout attention and set a high value on his words, he left his
body paralysed in its functions by the excess of his pains, and mounted
to Heaven.
* * * * *