44. 'We are therefore bound to honour him by accepting it like the word

of a teacher, whereby we will secure also our own welfare.

45. 'After surmounting our adversity, it will be the fit time to worship

him either conjointly or severally, and to perform for this excellent

elephant the whole of the funeral rites due to a deceased kinsman.'

Accordingly those men, keeping in mind that that chief of elephants had

taken his determination with the object of rescuing them from the

wilderness, obeyed his words. They took their provisions from the body

of the Great Being, and filled his bowels with water, using them as

water-bags. Then following the direction he had pointed out to them,

they safely crossed that wilderness.

* * * * *

In this manner the righteous highly esteem even pain, as if it were

gain, if they may cause by it the happiness of others. [So is to be said

when praising the righteous. Likewise, when discoursing on the Tathâgata

or on the subject of listening with attention to the preaching of the

Law. When treating of how to acquire an auspicious nature, this is to be

said: 'In this manner an auspicious nature obtained by exercise (of

virtues) comes back in new existences.' This story may also be told,

when demonstrating the virtue consisting in habitual charity. 'So the

habit of abandoning material objects makes it easy to give up even

self-love.' And on the words spoken by the Lord at the time of His

Complete Nirvâ_n_a, when He was attended with celestial flowers and

celestial music: 'Something like this, in truth, is not the right

manner, Ânanda, to gratify the Tathâgata,' this story may serve as the

comment, by taking it for example: 'In this manner worship consists in

fulfilling the design (of the person honoured), not in offerings of

perfumes, garlands, and the like.']

In the Avadânakalpalatâ this tale occurs in pallava 96, 9-15, where

the Lord tells it succinctly. The elephant is called Bhadra

(friendly; 'auspicious') there. Cp. supra, stanzas 39, 40, where

his atibhadratâ, respecting bhadratâ, is praised. Concerning the

Bhadra-elephants cp. Kielhorn, Indian Antiquary, 1890, p. 60.

XXXI. THE STORY OF SUTASOMA.

(Cp. the Pâli _G_âtaka, No. 537, Fausb. V, 456-511, and _K_ariyâpi_t_aka

III, 12[218].)

[218] Compare Professor Kern's interesting paper on the

Old-Javanese poem Sutasoma in the Verslagen en Mededeelingen der

Kon. Akademie van Wetenschappen afd. Letterkunde, 3^{de} Reeks, dl.

V. pp. 8-43, especially note on p. 21. This Javanese poem, composed

by Tantular, a manuscript of which belongs to the Leiden University

Library, is based on some unknown work named Bauddhakâvya, not

mentioned in Bunyiu Nanjio's Catalogue.

Meeting with a virtuous person, in whatever way it may have been

occasioned, promotes salvation. Thus considering, he who longs for

salvation must strive after intercourse with virtuous persons. This will

be taught as follows.

In the time when our Lord was a Bodhisattva, he happened to be born, it

is said, in the illustrious royal family of the Kauravas, that dynasty

wide-famed for its glory, who owing to their intentness on possessing

virtues, possessed the deep-rooted affection of their subjects, and the

splendour of whose power had put their proud neighbours to vassalage.

His father gave him the name of Sutasoma, for he looked as lovely as

Soma (the Moon-god), his face being irradiated by the nimbus of his

hundreds of virtues. Like the moon in the bright half of the month, his

loveliness and grace increased every day. Having in course of time

attained skill in the Vedas with their Aṅgas and in the Upavedas, and

having been also initiated in the worldly arts and sciences (kalâs),

including the additional ones (uttarakalâs), he became an object of

esteem and love to his people and might be called a kinsman of virtues,

so to speak. For he was inclined to be a decided helper of virtues[219],

his regard for them was ever increasing, and he kept himself under

restraint to preserve them carefully.

[219] So elsewhere the pious are called 'partisans of virtue'

(gu_n_apakshapâtina_h_). See, for instance, Story VII, stanza 31.

1, 2. Good conduct (_s_îla), learning, charity, mercy, self-control,

splendour, forbearance, wisdom, patience, humility, modesty, shame,

judgment, loveliness, renown, civility, retentiveness, strength,

pureness of mind, these and such were the excellent properties which

dwelt with him. Embellished by his youth, as it were, and deriving an

additional charm from the holiness and loftiness of his person, they

were like his constituent parts, as the (sixteen) kalâs of the

moon[220].

[220] The exactness of the comparison would appear more, if the

number of virtues of young Sutasoma were also sixteen. But I count

nineteen.

And for this reason the king, his father, raised him to the illustrious

rank of heir-apparent, judging him the proper person for ruling his

subjects, for he knew his high aspirations and the holiness of his

nature.

3. But as he was fond of learning, he was a great lover of religious

sentences well-turned, and paid the most distinguished reward to those

who attended him with well-said sentences.

Once it was the season of spring, and the power of the month of flowers

had decorated the suburban parks. The young offshoots of shrubs and

trees overspread them with a soft brilliancy; the opening flowers gave

them a charming and laughing aspect; fresh grass-plots, like smooth

woollen carpets, extended all around over their grounds; their

water-basins with unstained and blue water were covered with the petals

of lotuses white and blue; the humming noise of numbers of roaming bees

was heard in them; crowds of bold cuckoos and peacocks showed

themselves; and breezes, agreeable by their mildness, fragrancy, and

coolness, blew over them. The splendour of those gardens roused gladness

in the minds of men. So the High-minded One, walking about escorted by a

small body of guards, went out to one of those pleasure-grounds in order

to divert himself.

4. Its groves resounded with the chants of the he-cuckoo; its various

trees were bending under the weight of their flowers; and the grace of

the gardens was enhanced by their charming arbours, artfully arranged.

Rambling through his groves in the company of his wives, he resembled

one enjoying the fruit of his merit in Nandana.

5. There he delighted in the songs of the females blending with the soft

tones of musical instruments, in their dances charmingly executed with

exciting coquetry and graceful[221] gesticulation, in their brilliant

amorous play in consequence of their excitement by liquors, but no less

in the loveliness of the forest.

[221] Professor Kern writes to me, that lulitaº in the printed text

ought to be changed into lalitaº, the reading of the MSS.

Now, while he was staying there, a certain Brâhman who professed to be a

speaker of well-said sentences, called on him. After being received with

due respect, he sat down in that place, absorbed in the contemplation of

the prince's beautiful figure. So the Great Being, though he was

enjoying at that time the sport allowed to his age and fallen to his

share as the effect of the power of his rich store of merit, was

nevertheless filled with great regard for that Brâhman. Before the

Brâhman could reap the profit of his coming by reciting some well-turned

sentences, there suddenly arose a confused noise, checking the sounds of

song and music, destroying the merriment of the company engaged in

playful occupation, and rousing fear and anxiety in the females. On

hearing this uproar, he kindly bade the guardians of his harem inquire

about the matter. Then his doorkeepers hastily went to him, alarmed and

with saddened faces expressive of their fear and anxiety. They reported

to him: 'Your Majesty, this is the man-eater Kalmâshapâda, the son of

Sudâsa, the cruel disposition of whose mind exceeds even that of the

Râkshasas. It is he, who, as if he were an incarnation of the God of

Death, is in the habit of destroying hundreds of men. Looking terrible

and dreadful like a Rakshas, that embodied Terror of the World, so to

speak, of superhuman strength, vigour, and insolence is coming up to

this very place. Our guards are dispersed. Terror has devoured the

courage of the warriors, consternation has dissolved their ranks, and

put also the chariots, horse, and elephants into disorder. Therefore

Your Majesty must be on your guard for your defence, or reflect on the

proper measures to be taken.' Then Sutasoma, though knowing it well,

asked them: 'Who is that man whom you call the son of Sudâsa?' And they

said to him: 'Is it then unknown to Your Majesty that there was a king

of the name, who having gone out a hunting, carried away by his horse

penetrated into the very heart of the forest? There he cohabited with a

lioness, who having become pregnant, after some time was delivered of a

male human child. Some foresters took up that boy, and brought him to

Sudâsa, who being childless, brought him up as his son, and when he

passed away to the city of the Celestials[222], left him as his

successor. So he came to the possession of his legitimate royal dignity,

but by the fault of his maternal origin he was fond of raw flesh. Once

having tasted human flesh and liking its relish surpassing any other

flesh, he commenced to kill and eat the very inhabitants of his capital.

Then the townsmen prepared to put him to death. The son of Sudâsa, being

afraid of them, made this promise to the goblins who are wont to enjoy

offerings of human flesh and blood: "If I am saved from this peril, I

will perform a sacrifice of one hundred royal princes to the goblins."

So he was saved from that peril of his life. And now he carried off by

force many, many royal princes, and he is also come here in order to

carry away[223] Your Majesty, too. You have heard the matter; we await

your orders, Your Majesty.'

[222] In other words, 'when he died.'

[223] Upahartum is of course a misprint for apahartum.

Now the Bodhisattva, who was formerly aware of the aberration of mind of

the son of Sudâsa and his wicked behaviour, felt compassion for him. So

he set his mind on the design of curing him; and since he trusted

himself to possess the qualities adapted to the extinction of the

monstrous abnormity of his conduct, the information about Sudâsa's son

drawing near, like welcome news, made him feel the sense of gladness.

And, indeed, he spoke in this manner:

6. 'This man who, dispossessed from his royalty because of his fondness

for human flesh, acts like a madman utterly unable to govern himself,

having left his royal duties and destroyed his (former) good repute and

merit, such a person, I suppose, is in a state deserving commiseration.

7. 'This being so, what opportunity is there for me to use force now, or

what room for alarm and fear from the side of such a one? Rather will I

utterly destroy his wickedness without employing effort, violence, and

force.

8. 'And now this man who would deserve commiseration from my side, if

even he went away from me, comes himself to the place, where I am

staying. For this reason it befits me to show him hospitality. For it

is in this way that the virtuous act towards guests.

'Therefore, it suffices that each of you mind his ordinary duty.' So he

instructed the guard of his harem. And turning to his female

life-guards, who with eyes great and bewildered with anxiety and with

throats almost choked by agitation, prepared to bar the way of the

monster, he made them desist from that purpose, addressing them with

comforting words, and went forward in the direction of that alarming

noise. And he saw his royal army dispersed and in flight, pursued by the

son of Sudâsa, whose appearance was dreadful. His soiled garments,

loosely kept together with a girdle, hung around his body; his hair

dressed with a diadem of bark and coarse with dust, was dishevelled and

hanging down his face wholly covered with a thick, rugged beard which

lay upon it like darkness; his eyes rolling with wrath and anger looked

tremendous; he brandished his sword and shield. The prince fearless and

free from anxiety, called out to him: 'Hallo, here I am, I, Sutasoma.

Turn to me. Why are you troubling yourself to assail those poor people?'

These words of challenge stirred the pride of the son of Sudâsa, and

turning from thence like a lion, he perceived the Bodhisattva (waiting

for him) alone, unarmed, and placidly looking according to his nature.

On seeing him he exclaimed, 'You are the very man I am seeking,' and at

once without delay went hastily and with impetuosity to him, and placing

him on his shoulder ran off. And the Bodhisattva, considering with

solicitude that his mind was still troubled with agitation, and his

heart infatuated by wrath and arrogance kindled by the insolence of his

rejoicing at the royal forces put to flight, thought it was no proper

time now for admonition, and persisted in his attitude of unconcern. On

the other hand, the son of Sudâsa having obtained his wish and thinking

to have made a capture of importance, entered much rejoiced the

stronghold where he had his residence.

9, 10. That unholy dwelling, when appearing from afar to the eyes of the

travellers, caused them to be frozen with horror; for it offered an

aspect as dreadful as the dancing-place of giants and spectres[224]. It

was encumbered with corpses of slain men, and wet with blood horribly

moistening its ground; it seemed to threaten every one (approaching)

with the cries of jackals roaring there most inauspiciously; and the

trees standing on its area, exposed to the discolouring smoke of many

funeral piles, bore dark-red leaves, the ferocious abode of vultures and

crows.

[224] In other words, 'as dreadful as a cemetery.'

Having set down the Bodhisattva in that place, he took his rest for a

while, his eyes intently fixed on the face of his victim, charmed as he

was by his exceeding beauty. Meanwhile the Bodhisattva remembered that

poor Brâhman who had come to him in order to get some present for his

sentences, whom he had not yet paid the due honour, and who must still

be waiting for his return to the gardens with hope in his heart. And

this thought entered in his mind: 'Alas! ho!

11. 'That Brâhman came to me from afar, bringing to me the present of

his sentences and filled with hope. What will he do now on hearing of my

capture?

12. 'Afflicted with a burning sorrow on account of the destruction of

his hope, and vexed with fatigue felt the keener because of his despair,

he will either sigh, commiserating my fate, or chide his own destiny.'

While the Great Being was reflecting in this manner, and his mind

accustomed to commiserate (the sufferings of others) was sore with grief

on account of that Brâhman, tears welled up in his eyes. The son of

Sudâsa, seeing those tears, began to laugh aloud, and said: 'Do leave

off.

13. 'You are renowned for your wisdom proved by many different virtues.

But having come into my power, you too shed tears!

'Verily, this is a true saying:

14. 'In calamities constancy has no effect, and in sorrow learning is of

no use. No being is to be found, indeed, who does not shake, when

stricken.

'Therefore, tell me the truth.

15. 'Do you bewail your life dear to yourself, or your wealth, the

instrument of pleasures, or your relations, or perhaps your royal rank?

Or is it the recollection of your father who loves his son so much, or

that of your own children who now weep for you, which makes these tears

burst from your eyes?'

The Bodhisattva said:

16. 'It is not the thought either of my life or my parents, children,

relatives, and wives, or the recollection of the pleasures of royalty,

that moves me to tears; but some Brâhman who came to me hopeful, relying

on the well-said sentences he brings with him. Forsooth, hearing that I

have been carried off, he must grieve with despair. This I remembered,

and hence my eyes are wet with tears.

17. 'For this reason you ought to let me go in order that I may refresh

the heart of that Brâhman, now distressed with the grief of

disappointment, pouring on it the water of honourable reward, and on the

other hand, that I may take from him the honey of sentences he offers

me.

18. 'After thus paying my debt to that Brâhman, I will come back to you

again, that I may be also free from debt with respect to you, and afford

gladness to your eyes beholding me returning here.

19. 'Do not, however, suspect me, troubling your mind with the thought

this may be some contrivance of mine to go off. Men like me, O king,

follow a way different from that on which other people are wont to

walk.'

The son of Sudâsa spoke:

20. 'What you say, as if it were something worth regard, is a thing

which utterly exceeds belief. Who, indeed, being released from the mouth

of Death and having recovered his freedom of movement, would go to meet

it once more?

21. 'If, having passed the danger of death hard to overcome, you are in

safety in your brilliant palace, say, what reason does there exist that

should induce you to come back here to me?'

The Bodhisattva spoke: 'How? Does Your Honour not understand the motive

of my returning here, though it is a strong one, to be sure? Have I not

promised to come back? For this reason, do not suspect me any longer,

taking me for an equal of the villain. Am I not Sutasoma?

22. 'It is true that some, out of cupidity and fear of death, leave

veracity, as if it were a straw. But to the virtuous veracity is their

property and life; therefore they do not give it up even in distress.

23. 'Neither life nor the pleasures of this world will preserve from

mishap him who has fallen from veracity. Who, then, would leave veracity

for the sake of these objects? that virtue which is a rich mine of

praise, glory, and happiness?

24. 'Nevertheless, in a person who is seen walking on the road of sin or

in whom there does not appear any effort to lead a holy life, a pious

behaviour becomes a matter of disbelief. Now, what of the kind did you

perceive in my person that you should suspect even me?

25. 'If I had really been afraid of you, or if my mind had been attached

to pleasures, or my heart were devoid of compassion, do you not think I

should have met an adversary so famous for his ferocity as you, in full

armour and prepared to fight, as becomes one proud of his valour?

26. 'But it may be that I did even desire that conversation with you.

Why, after satisfying the labour of that Brâhman, I will come back to

you of my own accord. Persons like me, in truth, do not utter an

untruth.'

Now these words of the Bodhisattva irritated the son of Sudâsa, as if

they spoke of something fanciful, and he entered upon this reflection:

'Verily, he does greatly boast of his veracity and righteous behaviour.

Well then, I will see them, both his attachment to truth and his love of

righteousness. What matters his loss to me, after all? I have already my

full number of one hundred royal princes whom I subdued by the

overwhelming strength of my arm; with them I may perform my sacrifice to

the goblins according to my desire.' After thus considering, he said to

the Bodhisattva: 'Well then, go. We wish to see your faithfulness in

keeping your promise and your righteousness.

27. 'Go, and having done for that Brâhman what he longs for, return

soon; meanwhile I will dress your funeral pile.'

And the Bodhisattva promised him he would do so. Then he set out for his

palace, where he was welcomed by his household. Having sent for that

Brâhman, he learnt from him a tetrad of gâthâs. The Great Being, to whom

the hearing of those well-said sentences procured an intense gladness,

praised the Brâhman with kind words and marks of honour, and valuing

each gâthâ at the rate of one thousand (pieces of gold), rewarded him

with the wealth so much desired for.

Now his father, intending to avert him from expenses out of place and

extravagant, availed himself of this opportunity, and admonished his son

in friendly terms. 'My dear,' he said, 'when you reward well-said

sentences, you should know the limit, should you not? You have to

maintain a large retinue; besides, the splendour of kings depends on the

affluence of their treasury. For this reason I tell you this.

28. 'Rewarding a well-said sentence with one hundred is a very high

estimation. It is not fit to exceed this limit. If a man, however

wealthy, be too liberal, he will never retain the splendour of his

riches for long.

29. 'Wealth is the chief instrument of success and an effective one; for

no pleasure is attainable in defiance of Wealth. Fortune, indeed, like a

harlot, disregards a king who lacks an abundant treasury.'

The Bodhisattva spoke:

30. 'If it were at all possible to settle a limit to the value of

well-said sentences, Your Majesty, I would not incur your reprehension,

to be sure, if I were to give up even my royal rank to purchase them.

31. 'Verily, such sayings by hearing which a man gains placidity of

mind, his love for salvation is strengthened, and the darkness (of

ignorance) disappears (from his intellect) by the increase of his

wisdom--ought they not to be bought even at the price of one's own

flesh?

32, 33. 'Holy texts are a light which destroys the darkness of delusion

(moha); they are the highest wealth, a wealth beyond the reach of

thieves and the rest[225]; the weapon to hurt that enemy whose name is

infatuation; the best counsellor and adviser as to a man's course of

conduct; an unalterable friend even in time of distress; the painless

medicine of the disease called sorrow; a mighty army strong enough to

crush the army of vices; the highest treasure of glory and bliss.

[225] Compare note to Story III, stanza 21.

34-37. 'Moreover, the splendid possession of holy texts (_S_ruti) is

also the principal cause of eloquent speech. When meeting with virtuous

persons, this possession affords the opportunity of making a present of

great value; in the assemblies it conciliates the favour of the learned;

in disputes and controversies it casts its light like the sun, and

destroys the arrogance and fame of envious adversaries. Its superiority

is exhibited by the expression of delight and the high colour in the

eyes and on the faces of even common people, when they are enraptured

with ecstasy and applaud by clapping of hands. Further it enables its

possessor to demonstrate a matter with plain argument and in a graceful

way, owing to his quotations from manifold treatises and sacred books.

By its softness, its culture, and its loveliness, eloquence may be

compared to a string of unfaded garlands or to the blazing lustre of a

tempered lamp[226], and (finally) it forcibly gains glory for its owner.

So making use of sacred texts is a pleasant way to success.

[226] I read vinîtadîpapratibho_gg_valasya.

38. 'And those who have heard them will betake themselves to the road

leading to the threefold prosperity, and free of obstructing vices; and

conforming their behaviour to the precepts imported by those texts, and

making it excellent, they will easily cross the dangerous passage

through existences.

39. 'For so many excellent properties holy texts are famous. Now then,

having got them like a present, how should I, being able to reward the

giver of them, not honour him in return? Or, (on the other hand,) how

should I transgress your order?

40. 'I will go, therefore, to the son of Sudâsa. I do not want either

the toil of royalty or that other anxiety I should incur by following

the way of wickedness, if I were to transgress my duty of keeping my

engagement to come back.'

The Gâtakamâlâ; Or, Garland of Birth-Stories · 第 25 / 29 段