The Fish Ānanda

In the past there were six monster fishes in the ocean. Amongst them were Ānanda, Timanda, Ajjhohāra – these three were five hundred leagues in extent – Tītimīti, Miṅgala, Timirapiṅgala – these were a thousand leagues long – and all of them fed upon the rock eelgrass The aquatic plant vallisneria. weed. Of them Ānanda dwelt on one side of the ocean and many fish came to see him. One day they thought: “Amongst all bipeds and quadrupeds kings are to be found, but we have no king: we will make this fish our king.” And being all of one mind they made Ānanda their king, and from that day the fish evening and morning came to pay their respects to him.

Now one day Ānanda on a certain mountain was feeding on rock eelgrass and unwittingly ate a fish, thinking it to be eelgrass. {5.463} Its flesh was pleasing to his taste, and wondering what it could be that was so very sweet, he took it out of his mouth and looking at it found it was a piece of fish. He thought: “All this long time in my ignorance I never ate this: evening and morning when the fish come to pay their respects to me, I will devour one or two of them, for if when they are being eaten I make the fact too clear to them, not a single one will come near me, but they will all scurry off.” So lying in concealment he struck at any that were retreating from behind and devoured them. The fish as their numbers gradually diminished thought: “From what quarter will this peril to our [5.251] kind be threatening us?” Then a sage amongst them thought: “I am not satisfied with what Ānanda is doing: I will investigate what he is about,” and when the fish came to pay homage to Ānanda, the sage hid himself in the lobe of Ānanda’s ear. Ānanda on dismissing the fish devoured those that were straggling behind. The wise fish seeing it reported it to the others and they all were panic-stricken and fled.

From that day Ānanda in his greedy longing for the flavour of fish refused every other kind of food. Growing sick from hunger he thought: “Where in the world can they be gone?” and in searching for them he espied a certain mountain and thought: “From fear of me the fish, I think, are dwelling near this mountain. I will encircle it and keep a watch over it.” So encircling it with his head and tail he compassed it on both sides, thinking: “If they live here, they will be for escaping,” and catching sight of his own tail as it coiled round the mountain he thought: “This fish lives near the mountain and is trying to elude me,” and in his rage he seized his own tail, which was fifty leagues long, and believing he had got hold of a fish, he devoured it with a crunching sound, suffering thereby excruciating pain. At the smell of the blood the fish gathered together, and pulling bit after bit out of Ānanda’s tail ate it up till they reached his head. {5.464} Having such a big carcase he could not turn round but then and there came to his end. And there was a heap of bones as big as a mountain. Holy ascetics, male and female, travelling through space, saw it and told men of it. And the inhabitants of all Jambudīpa knew of it. Kāḷahatthi, by way of illustration, told this story and said:

The Landowner Sujāta, 1

On hearing this the king said: “Kāḷahatthi, I too know an example as well as you,” and as an instance he told a story of the past in illustration of his greed for human flesh and said:

In the past, they say, a landed gentleman named Sujāta at Benares lodged in his park and ministered to five hundred ascetics who had come down from the Himālayas to procure salt and vinegar. Food [5.252] was constantly set out in his house for them, but these ascetics sometimes went on a pilgrimage for alms in the country and brought back pieces of big Jambu plums to eat. When they were feeding on the Jambu plums they had brought, Sujāta thought: “Today it is the third or fourth day that these holy men have not come to me here. Where in the world can they have gone?” So making his little boy take hold of his hand he went there while they were taking their repast. At that moment a novice was giving the elders water to rinse their mouths and was eating a bit of Jambu plum. Sujāta saluted the ascetics and when he was seated he asked, saying: “Venerable sirs, what are you eating?” “Pieces of large Jambu plums, sir.” The boy on hearing this felt thirsty, so the leader of the company of ascetics had a small piece given to him. The boy ate it and was so charmed with the delicate flavour that he kept on continually begging them to give him another piece. The gentleman, who was listening to the preaching of the Dhamma, said: “Do not cry; when you get home, you shall have a piece to eat,” thus deceiving the boy for fear lest the holy monks might be worn out by his cries. So comforting the boy he took his leave of the band of ascetics and returned home. From the moment they arrived there the boy kept up a cry of “Give me a piece.”

The ascetics too said: “We have stayed here a long time,” and departed for the Himālayas. Not finding the boy in the park the ascetics sent him a present of pieces of mangoes, Jambu plums, breadfruit, bananas and other fruits, all mixed with powdered sugar. This mixture was no sooner placed on the tip of his tongue than it acted like a deadly poison. For seven days he took no food and then died. {5.466} This story the king told by way of illustration.

The Son of a Brahmin

Then Kāḷahatthi thought: “This king is a great glutton: I will tell him further instances,” and he said: “Great king, desist from this.” “It is impossible,” he said. “Should you not desist, you will gradually be dropped by your family circle and deprived of your kingly glory.”

In the past too in this very Benares there was a brahmin family which kept the Five Precepts. An only son was born to this family, the darling and delight of his parents, a wise lad and well versed in the Three Vedas. He used to go about in the company of a band of youths of the same age as himself. The other members of the company ate fish, meat and similar food and took strong drink. The young boy neither ate meat nor drank strong drink.

The thought struck them, “This boy because he takes no strong drink does not pay his reckoning: let us devise a plan to make him drink.” So when they were gathered together, they said: “My friend, let us hold a festival.” He said: “You drink strong drink but I do not. You go without me.” “Friend, we will take some milk for you to drink.” He consented, saying: “All right.” The rogues went to the garden and tied up some fiery spirit in a leaf cup and put it amongst some lotus leaves. So when they began to drink they [5.253] offered the lad some milk. One of the rogues cried, “Bring us some lotus nectar,” and having had it brought to him, he cut a hole in the bottom of the leaf cup placed in the lotus, and putting it to his mouth sucked it. The others too had some brought to them and drank it. The lad asked what it was and took some strong drink, believing it to be lotus nectar. Then they offered him some broiled meat and this too he ate. And when from repeated draughts of liquor he was intoxicated, they told him, “This is no lotus nectar: it is spirit.” “All this long while,” he said: “I never knew what a sweet taste was. Bring me more strong drink, I say!” They brought it and once more gave it him, for he was very thirsty. {5.467} Then when he asked for more, they told him it was all finished. He said: “Come, I say! Fetch me some more,” and gave them his signet ring. After drinking with them all the day, being now quite drunk and his eyes bloodshot, trembling and babbling, he went home and lay down.

Then his father finding out he had been drinking, when the effects of it had passed off, said to him, “My son, you have done very wrong, being a member of a brahmin family, to drink strong drink: never do so again.” “Dear father, what is my offence?” “Drinking strong drink.” “How say you, father? In all my life I never before tasted anything so sweet.” The brahmin repeatedly besought him to give it up. “I cannot do it,” he said. Then the brahmin thought: “If this is so, our family tradition will be destroyed and our wealth will perish,” and he repeated this verse:

And after these words he said: “My dear son, abstain from it, otherwise I shall put you out of my house and have you banished from my kingdom.” The lad said: “Even so, I cannot give up strong drink,” and he repeated two verses:

Moreover he said: “I will not abstain from dram drinking: do what you please.” Then the brahmin, saying: “Well, as you give us up, we too will give you up,” repeated this verse: {5.468}

Then taking his son into court he disinherited him and had him driven out of his house. This youth later on, being a poor destitute wretch, put on a coarse garment, and taking a beggar’s bowl in his hand he went round begging for alms, and resting against a wall so died. Kāḷahatthi relating [5.254] this incident by way of a lesson to the king, said: “If, sire, you refuse to hearken to our words, they will have you banished from the kingdom,” and so saying he spoke this verse:

The Landowner Sujāta, 2

Even after the instance thus adduced by Kāḷahatthi, the king could not desist from his habit, and to illustrate yet another story he said:

The story is just like the one already related above. This Sujāta, they say, on seeing that the ascetics, at the time when they ate pieces of big Jambu plum did not return, thought: “I wonder why they do not come back. If they are gone anywhere, I will find it out: otherwise I will listen to their preaching.” So he went to the park and heard the Dhamma preached by the leader of the company, and when the sun set, though he was dismissed he said: “I will remain here today,” and saluting the company of saints he went into his hut of leaves and lay down.

At night Sakka, king of heaven, accompanied by a troop of angelic beings, together with his handmaids, came to pay his respects to the band of ascetics, and the whole hermitage was one blaze of light. Sujāta, wondering what this might be, rose up and looking through a chink in his hut of leaves, saw Sakka come to salute the company, {5.469} attended by a troop of Accharā, and no sooner did he see them than he was fired with passion. Sakka took a seat and after listening to a sermon on the faith departed to his own abode.

The landed proprietor next day saluted the ascetics and asked, saying: “Who was it, venerable sirs, came in the night to pay his respects to you?” “Sakka, sir.” “And who were those that sat round about him?” “They are called Devaccharās.” Saluting the band of ascetics he went home and from the moment he got there he kept up a foolish cry of “Give me a Devaccharā.” His kinsmen, standing about him, wondered if he were possessed of an evil spirit, and snapped their fingers. He said: “It is not this snapping of the fingers I speak of, but of the Devaccharā.” The Pali here has a play upon the two meanings of the word accharā, a heavenly nymph, and a snapping of the fingers. And when they dressed up and brought to him a wife or even a courtesan and said: “Here is a Devaccharā,” he said: “This is no Devaccharā, it is a female ghoul,” and went on with his [5.255] foolish cry, “Give me a Devaccharā,” and taking no food he died.

The Golden Geese

On hearing this Kāḷahatthi said: “This king is a great glutton: I will bring him to a better mind.” And he said: “The golden geese too that fly through the air perished from eating the flesh of their kin,” and to illustrate this he repeated two verses:

In the past, they say, ninety thousand geese dwelt in the Golden Cave on mount Cittakūṭa. For four months in the rainy season they do not stir out. If they should do so, their wings being full of water, they would be unable to take a long flight and would fall into the sea, and therefore they do not stir out, but when the rainy season is drawing near, they gather wild paddy from a natural lake, and filling their cave with it live upon rice. But no sooner had they entered the cave than an spinning spider as big as a chariot wheel at the entrance of the cave used to spin a web every month, and each thread of it was as thick as a cow’s halter. The geese give two portions of food to a young goose, thinking he will then be able to break through the web. {5.470} When the sky clears, this young goose being in front of them severed the web and the rest all escape by the same way.

Now once the rainy season lasted five months, and the food of the geese grew short. They consulted as to what was to be done and said: “If we are to live, we must take the eggs.” First they ate the eggs, then the goslings and after that the old geese. At the end of five months the rain left off, the spider had spun five webs, and the geese from eating the flesh of their kin had grown feeble. The young goose that had received a double portion of food, striking at the webs broke four of them but could not break the fifth, and stuck there. So the spider cut off his head and drank his blood. First one and then another came and struck the web, and the spider said: “Here’s another of them stuck in the same place,” and sucked the blood of all of them, and at that time the family of the Dhataraṭṭha geese became extinct, they say.

The Exile

The king was anxious to give yet another illustration, but the citizens rising up said: “My lord commander, what do you propose to do? How will you proceed now you have caught the man-eating rogue? If he does not give it up, have him expelled from his kingdom,” and they would not suffer the king to say a word. Hearing the common talk of the people, the king was terrified and could say nothing more, and once again the commander said to him, “Sire, will it be possible for you to give it up?” “Impossible,” he said. So the commander placed on one side all his harem, his sons and his daughters, arrayed in all their splendour, and said: “Sire, behold this circle of your kinsfolk, this band of councillors [5.256] and your royal pomp: be not undone, but cease from eating man’s flesh.” The king said: “All this is not dearer to me than man’s flesh.” “Then depart, sire, from this city and kingdom.” “Kāḷahatthi,” he said: “I do not want my kingdom; I am ready to depart, but grant me one favour; let me have my sword and my cook.” So they let him take a sword, a vessel for cooking man’s flesh and a basket, and giving him his cook they carried out his expulsion from the kingdom. {5.471} Taking his cook he set out from the city and entered a forest and made his dwelling at the foot of a banyan tree.

Living there he would take his stand on the road which led through the forest, and killing men he would bring their bodies and give them to the cook, and he cooked the flesh and served it up and both of them lived after this manner. And when he sallied forth, crying, “Here am I, the man-eating robber!” no one could hold his own, and they all fell to the ground and any one of them that he fancied, he seized, heels upwards or not as it might happen, and gave him to his cook.

One day, he did not find any man in the forest, and when on his return the cook said: “How is this, sire?” he told him to put the pot on the brazier. “But where is the meat, sire?” “Oh! I will find some meat,” he said. Thought the cook, “I am a dead man,” and all of a tremble he made a fire and put the pot on the brazier. Then the man-eater killed him with a stroke of his sword and cooked and ate his flesh. Thenceforth he was quite alone and had to cook his food himself. The rumour spread throughout all Jambudīpa: “The man-eater murders wayfaring men.”

The Caravan Leader

At that time a certain wealthy brahmin who traded with five hundred wagons was travelling from the east in a westerly direction and he thought: “This man-eating robber, they say, murders men on the road. By a payment of money I will make my way through the forest.” So he paid a thousand pieces of money to the people who lived at the entrance of the forest, bidding them convoy him safely through it and set out on the road with them. He placed all his caravan in front of him, and having bathed and anointed himself and put on sumptuous apparel he seated himself in an easy carriage drawn by white oxen, and escorted by his convoy he travelled last of all.

The man-eater climbing up a tree was on the look out for men, but though he felt no appetite for any of the rest of the convoy, no sooner did he catch sight of the brahmin than his mouth watered through desire to eat him. When the brahmin came up to him, {5.472} he proclaimed his name, crying, “Here am I, the man-eating robber,” and brandishing his sword, like to one filling men’s eyes with sand, he leaped upon them and no man was able to stand up against him, but they all fell prone upon the ground. Seizing the brahmin as he sat in his easy carriage by the foot he slung him on his back, head downwards, and striking his head against his heels so carried him off. The men rising up cried one to another, “Ho! My man, bestir yourself. We received a thousand pieces of money from the [5.257] brahmin’s hands. Who amongst us wears the semblance of a man? Let us, one and all, strong man or weakling, pursue him for a short space.” They pursued him and the man-eater stopped and looked back, and not seeing anyone went slowly on.

At that moment a bold fellow running at full speed came up with him. On seeing him, the robber leaping over a fence trod upon an acacia splinter The construction of this passage is not very clear, even if one takes khānuṁ to be a nominative as dhanuṁ, Jat. ii. 88. 14. Perhaps khānuṁ piṭṭhipādena nikkhami means, he got rid of the splinter by rubbing the top of the other foot against it. which, wounding him, came out at the top of his foot, and the robber went limping along with the blood trickling from the wound. Then his pursuer on seeing it said: “Surely I have wounded him: you just follow on behind and I will catch him.” They saw how feeble he was and joined in the pursuit. When the robber saw that he was pursued he dropped the brahmin and secured his own safety. The brahmin’s escort as soon as they had recovered him thought: “What have we got to do with this robber?” and turned back.

But the man-eater, going to the foot of his banyan tree, lay down amongst the shoots and offered up a prayer to the spirit of the tree, saying: “My lady, Tree Devatā, if within seven days you can heal my wound, I will bathe your trunk with blood from the throats of one hundred and one princes from all Jambudīpa, and will hang the tree all round with their inwards and offer up a sacrifice of the five sweet kinds of flesh.” Now, in consequence of having nothing to eat or drink, his body wasted away, and within the seven days his wound healed. He recognised that his cure was due to the Tree Devatā, and in a few days he recovered his strength by eating man’s flesh and thought: “The Devatā has been very helpful to me. I will discharge my vow.”

Taking his sword he sallied forth from the foot of the tree {5.473} and set out, purposing to bring the kings. Now, a Yakkha which had gone about as his comrade, eating man’s flesh with him, when in a former existence he himself had been a Yakkha, caught sight of him and knowing that he had in a former existence been his friend he asked him, saying: “Do you not recognise me, friend?” “I do not,” he said. Then he told him about something they had done in a former state and the man-eater recognised him and gave him a kind greeting. When asked where he had been reborn, he told him of his place of birth and how he had been banished from his kingdom and where he was now living. He told him moreover how he was wounded by a splinter and that he was now going on an expedition to redeem his promise to the Devatā. “I must get over this difficulty of mine by your help: we will go together, my friend,” he said. “I cannot go, but there is one service I can render you. I certainly know a spell characterised by words of priceless value. It ensures strength, speed of foot, and an increase of prestige. Learn this spell.” He readily agreed to [5.258] this, and the Yakkha gave it to him and went off.

The man-eater got the spell by heart, and from that time became swift as the wind and very bold. Within seven days he found a hundred and one kings on their ways to parks and other places and leapt upon them with the swiftness of the wind, proclaiming his name, and by jumping about and shouting he greatly terrified them. Then he seized them by the feet and held them head downwards, and striking their heads with his heels carried them off with the swiftness of the wind. Next he drilled holes in the palms of their hands and hung them up by a cord on the banyan tree, and the wind striking them as they just touched the ground with the tips of their toes, they hung on the tree, revolving like withered wreaths of flowers in baskets.

Sutasoma

But he thought: “Sutasoma was my private teacher: let not Jambudīpa be altogether desolate,” and did not bring him. Being minded to make an offering to the tree he lighted a fire and sat down, sharpening a stake. The Tree Devatā on seeing this thought: “He is preparing to offer sacrifice to me, but it was not I that healed his wound: {5.474} he will now make a great slaughter. What is to be done? I shall not be able to stop him.” So she went and told the Four Great Kings of it and bade them stop him. When they said they could not do it, she approached Sakka and told him the whole story and asked him to stop him. He said: “I cannot do it, but I will tell you someone who can.” She said: “Who is that?” “In the world of men and gods,” he answered, “there is no one else, but in the city of Indapatta in the Kuru kingdom is Sutasoma, prince of Kuru. He will tame and humble this man and will save the lives of these kings, and cure him of eating human flesh and will shower nectar over all Jambudīpa. If you are anxious to save the lives of the kings, bid him first bring Sutasoma and then offer his sacrifice to the tree.” “All right,” said the Tree Devatā and went quickly, disguised as an ascetic, and approached the man-eater.

At the sound of footsteps he thought: “Can one of the kings have escaped?” Looking up and seeing him he thought: “Ascetics surely are nobles. If I capture him, I shall make up the full number of one hundred and one kings and offer my sacrifice.” As Sutasoma was left behind, one more victim was still wanting to complete the number. He rose up and sword in hand pursued the ascetic, but though he chased him for three leagues he could not overtake him, and streams of sweat poured from his limbs. He thought: “I once could pursue and catch an elephant, or horse, or chariot going at full speed, but today though I am running with all my might I cannot catch this ascetic who is going just his natural pace. What can be the reason for this?” Then thinking: “Ascetics are accustomed to obey: if I bid him stand and he does so, I shall catch him,” he cried, “Stand, venerable sir.” “I am standing,” he answered, “do you too try and [5.259] stand.” Then he said: “Ho there! Ascetics even to save their life do not tell a lie, but you speak falsely,” and he repeated this verse: {5.475}

Then the nymph spoke a couple of verses:

With such words the Devatā put off her disguise as an ascetic and stood revealed in her own form, blazing in the sky like the sun. The man-eater hearing what she had to say and beholding her form asked who she was, and on her replying that she had come to life as the Tree Devatā, he was delighted and thinking: “I have looked upon my tutelary divinity,” he said: “O heavenly sovereign, be not troubled by reason of Sutasoma, {5.476} but enter once more into thine own tree.” The Devatā entered into the tree before his very eyes. At that moment the sun set and the moon arose.

The man-eater being versed in the Vedas and their auxiliaries and acquainted with the movements of the astral bodies, looking at the sky, thought: “Tomorrow it will be the Phussa asterism; Sutasoma will come to the park to bathe and then will I lay hands upon him. But as he will have a strong guard and the dwellers throughout all Jambudīpa will come to guard him for three leagues around, at the first watch, before the guard is posted, I will go to the Migācira park and descend into the royal tank and there take my stand.” So he went down into the tank and stood there, covering his head with a lotus leaf.

By reason of his great glory the fish, turtles and the like fell back and swam about in large bodies at the water’s edge. Whence, it may be asked, came this glory of his? From his devotion in a former existence. For at the time of Kassapa, the One with Ten Powers, he started a distribution of milk by ticket. Owing to this he became very mighty, and having got the Saṅgha of the monks to erect a hall for a fire to dispel the cold, he provided fire, firewood and an axe to cleave the wood. As the result of this he became famous.

So now when he had gone into the garden, while it was still early dawn, they picked a guard for three leagues round about, and king Sutasoma quite early in the morning after breakfast, mounted on a richly caparisoned elephant, with a complete force of four arms, sallied from the city.

The Brahmin Nanda

At that very moment a brahmin named Nanda from Taxila, [5.260] bringing with him four verses, each worth a hundred pieces of money, reached the city after a journey of one hundred and twenty leagues, and took up his abode in a suburb. At sunrise on entering the city he saw the king issuing forth by the eastern gate, and raising his hand he cried, “Victory to the king.” Now the king being far-sighted, as he was riding along, saw the outstretched hand of the brahmin as he stood on some rising ground, and drawing nigh to him on his elephant he spoke after this manner:

Then the brahmin answered him:

“Great king,” he said, “these four verses taught me by Kassapa, the One with Ten Powers, are worth a hundred pieces of money each, and having heard that you take pleasure in libations suta. A play upon the double meaning of the word, juice and sacred literature. of soma juice, I am come to teach you.” The king was greatly pleased and said: “Teacher, in this you have done well, but it is impossible for me to turn back. Today, because it is the Phussa conjunction, it is the day for bathing my head: when I return I will listen to you. Be not dissatisfied with me.” And with these words he bade his councillors, saying: “Go you and in a certain house of a brahmin prepare a couch and arrange a dining place under cover,” and he retired into his park.

This was girt about by a wall eighteen cubits high and guarded all round by elephants within touch of one another. Then came horses, then chariots, and finally archers and other foot-soldiers – like a mighty troubled ocean was the army that had been transported there. The king, when he had put off his heavy adornments and had been shaved and shampooed, bathed in all his royal majesty in the lotus tank, and coming up out of the water he stood there clad in bathing garments, and they brought him scented garlands to adorn him.

The man-eater thought: “When he is fully dressed, the king must be a heavy weight. I will seize him just when he is light to carry.” {5.478} So shouting and jumping about and whirling a sword above his head as quick as lightning he proclaimed his name, crying, “Ho! Here am I, the man-eating robber,” and he laid his finger on his forehead As a mark of reverence for the Bodhisatta. and stepped out of the water. As soon as they heard his cry, the elephant-riders with their elephants, the horsemen with their horses, and the charioteers with their chariots fell to the ground, and all the host of them dropping the weapons they held lay [5.261] prone upon their bellies.

The man-eater seized Sutasoma, holding him erect. The rest of the kings he had caught by the foot and held head downwards and had gone off with them, knocking their heads against his heels, but in coming up to the Bodhisatta he stooped down and lifting him up placed him on his shoulders. Thinking it would be a roundabout way by the gate he leaped over the wall, eighteen cubits high, at the point where it faced him, and going forward he trampled on the temples of elephants exuding the juice of rut, overthrowing them as it were mountain peaks. Next he trod on the backs of the horses – swift as the wind were they and of priceless worth – laying them also low. Then as he stepped on the fronts of the splendid chariots, he was like to one whirling a humming top Compare Bālarāmāyaṇa, Act IX. Verse 51, bhramarakabhrāmam bhrāmyate rathaḥ. or as it were one crushing the dark green phalaka phalaka, the plant Mesua Roxburghii, or it might be the seed-pods of the lotus. In Jātaka vol. i. 304. 26, 28, and Jātaka vol. ii. 68. 17, we find phalakattharasayana, a bed of phalaka leaves. plant or banyan leaves, and at a single burst he ran a distance of three leagues. Then wondering if anyone were following to rescue Sutasoma, he looked and seeing no one he went on slowly.

The Dialogue

Noticing the drops that fell upon him from Sutasoma’s hair he thought: “There is no man living free from the fear of death, Sutasoma, too, I think, is weeping from fear,” and he said:

Sutasoma said:

Then the man-eater said:

On hearing this the Great Being, like a lion still fearless, said:

Though he spoke thus, the man-eater still did not believe him. So the Bodhisatta, thinking: “He does not believe me; by means of an oath I will make him believe,” said: “Good mister man-eater, let me down from your back and I will take an oath and make you believe me.” After these words he was let down by the man-eater and placed upon the ground, and in taking an oath he said: {5.481}

Then the man-eater thought: “This Sutasoma swears under penalty of violating noble rules. What do I want with him? Well, I too am a noble king. I will take blood from my own arm and make an offering to the Tree Devatā. This is a very faint-hearted fellow.” And he said:

Then the Great Being said: “My friend, do not vex yourself. After I have heard the four verses, each worth a hundred pieces of money, and have made an offering to the preacher of the Dhamma, I will return at daybreak.” And he spoke this verse:

Then the man-eater said: “You have taken an oath under penalty of violating the custom of nobles. See that you act accordingly.” “My man-eating friend,” he said, “you have known me from a boy: never even in jest have I previously told a lie, and now that I am established on the throne and know right and wrong, why should I lie? Trust me, {5.482} I will provide an offering for you.” Being induced to believe him he said: “Well, sire, depart, and, if you do not return, there can be no offering and [5.263] the Tree Devatā does not agree to it without you: do not place any obstacle in the way of my offering,” and he let the Great Being go.

Like the moon escaped from the jaws of Rāhu and with the strength of a young elephant he speedily reached the city. And his soldiers thought: “King Sutasoma is wise and a sweet preacher of the Dhamma. If he can have a word or two with him he will convert the man-eater and will return, like a furious elephant escaping from the lion’s mouth.” And thinking: “The people will chide us and say, “After giving up your king to the man-eater are you come back to us?” they remained encamped outside the city walls, and when they saw him coming from afar off they went out to meet him and saluting him with a friendly greeting they asked, “Were you not, sire, heartily sick of the man-eater?” “The man-eater,” he said, “did something far harder than anything my parents ever did. For being such a fierce and violent creature, after listening to my preaching of the Dhamma, he let me go.” Then they decked out the king and mounting him on an elephant escorted him into the city.

The Four Verses

On seeing him the inhabitants rejoiced, and owing to his zeal for the Dhamma, he did not visit his parents but thinking: “I will see them by and by,” he entered his palace and took his seat upon his throne. Then he summoned the brahmin and gave orders for him to be shaved, and when his hair and beard had been trimmed and he was washed and anointed and decked out with brave apparel, they brought him to the king. And when the brahmin was presented, Sutasoma himself afterwards took a bath and ordered his own food to be given to the brahmin, and when he had eaten he himself partook of the food. Then he seated the brahmin on a costly throne and to mark his reverence for him he made offerings of scented garlands and the like to him, and seating himself on a low seat he prayed him, saying: “Teacher, we would hear the verses which you have brought to us.”

To throw light upon this the Teacher said:

The brahmin, when the Bodhisatta made his request, after shampooing his hands with perfumes, pulling a beautiful book out of a bag took it in both hands and said: “Well, sire, listen to my four verses, each worth a hundred pieces of money; they were taught me by Kassapa, the One with Ten Powers, and are destructive of passion, pride and similar vices, and procure for man the removal of desire, the cessation of the faculties, even the eternal mighty Nibbāna, to the decay of lust, the cutting of the circle of transmigration [5.264] and the rooting out of attachment,” and with these words, looking at his book, he repeated these verses:

Thus did the brahmin teach him the four verses, each worth a hundred pieces, just as he had been taught them by Kassapa, the One with Ten Powers, and then remained silent. The Great Being was delighted at hearing them and said: “My journey here is not without its reward,” and thinking, “these verses are not merely the words of a disciple or a saint nor the work of a poet, but were spoken by the Omniscient One; I wonder what they are worth. Though one were to give a whole world that extends to the Brahmā Realm, after filling it with the seven precious things, one could not make an adequate return for these verses. Surely I can give him sovereignty in the city of Indapatta covering seven leagues in the realm of Kuru, which extends over three hundred leagues. Doubtless it is his merited fate to be king.” But regarding him with the power he possessed of divining a man’s future from his personal appearance, he found no such signs. Then he bethought him of the office of commander-in-chief and similar posts, but did not find that he was destined even to the headship of a single village. Next, considering the case of acquisition of wealth and starting from a crore of money he found he was destined to receive four thousand pieces, and thinking to honour him with just this sum he bestowed on him four purses containing a thousand pieces each and he asked him, saying: “Teacher, when you teach other princes these verses, how much do you receive?” “A hundred for each one, sire,” he said, “so they are worth just a hundred pieces.” The Great Being said: “Teacher, you are ignorant of the priceless value of the goods you hawk about. Henceforth let them be considered worth a thousand pieces,” and so saying he repeated this verse:

Then he presented him with an easy carriage {5.485} and gave orders to his men, saying: “Convey this brahmin safely to his home,” and so dismissed him. At this moment loud sounds of applause were heard and cries of “Bravo, bravo! King Sutasoma has highly honoured these verses, deeming [5.265] worth a thousand pieces what was valued at a hundred.” The king’s parents hearing the noise asked what it meant, and on learning the true state of things, by reason of their covetousness were angry with the Great Being, but after dismissing the brahmin he went to them and stood saluting them. Then his father said: “My son, you have escaped from the hands of one described as a fierce robber,” and instead of expressing pleasure at seeing him, through his greed of money he asked, “Is it true what they say, that you gave four thousand pieces of money for hearing four verses,” and on his confessing it was so, his father repeated this verse:

Then the Great Being, to induce him to see things in a different light, said: “Dear father, it is not increase in wealth I desire, but increase in learning,” and he uttered these verses:

After having thus spoken he said: “Do not just for the sake of money blame me. I have come here, after swearing an oath that when I had heard the Dhamma I would return. Now then I will go back to this monster; do you then accept this sovereignty,” and handing it over to him he spoke this verse:

At this moment the heart of the king’s father grew hot within him and he said: “What, my dear Sutasoma, is this you say? I will come with a complete host of all four arms Elephants, cavalry, chariots, and infantry. and will seize the robber,” and he repeated this verse:

Then his father and mother, their eyes swimming with tears, besought him, saying: “Go not, my son, nay, you cannot go,” and sixteen thousand dancing girls and the rest of his suite lamented and said: “Leaving us helpless, whither would you go, sire?” and no one throughout the city could restrain his feelings and they said: “He has come, they tell us, after giving a promise to the man-eater, and now {5.487} that he has heard four verses worth a hundred pieces each and has paid due honour to the preacher of the Dhamma and bidden farewell to his parents, he will return once more to the robber,” and the whole city was greatly stirred. And on hearing what his father and mother said, he repeated this verse:

Comforting his parents he said: “Dear father and mother, be not anxious about me: I have wrought a virtuous action, and mastery over the desires of the six senses See Jātaka, iii. 234. 18. is no hard matter,” and bidding farewell to his parents he admonished the rest of the people and so departed.

The Teacher, to make the matter clear, said:

The Return

Then the man-eater thought: “If my friend Sutasoma wishes to return, let him return, otherwise not, and let my Tree Devatā {5.488} do whatsoever she pleases, and I will put these princes to death and make an offering of their flesh with the five sweet things.” So he reared a funeral pile and kindled a fire, thinking he would wait till the coal was red hot, and while he sat and sharpened his spit Sutasoma returned. Then the man-eater at the sight of him was glad at heart and asked, saying: “My friend, have you gone and done what you wanted to do?” The Great Being said: “Yes, your majesty, I have heard the verses that were taught the brahmin by Kassapa, the One with Ten Powers, and I paid due honour to the preacher of the Dhamma, and so I have come back, having done the thing I had to do.” To illustrate this, he repeated this verse:

On hearing this the man-eater thought: “This king has no fear; he speaks with all the terrors of death dispelled. I wonder from whence comes this power. It can be nothing else. He says, ‘I have heard the verses that Kassapa, the One with Ten Powers, taught.’ This supernatural power must come from them. I will make him utter these verses in my hearing, and so will I too be free from all fear.” And being so resolved he repeated this verse:

The Great Being on hearing this thought: “This man-eater is a sinner: I will rebuke him somewhat and by my words I will put him to shame,” and he said:

Even when addressed in these words the man-eater was not angry. Why was this? It was owing to the mighty power of generosity in the Great Being. So he said: “Am I only, friend Sutasoma, unrighteous?” and he repeated this verse:

On hearing this the Great Being, in refuting his heresy, repeated this verse:

On receiving this rebuke, as he saw no other means of escape, he tried to conceal his own wrong-doing and repeated this verse:

Then the Great Being said: “Friend, one like me must be well versed in the lore of nobles. I know it well, but I do not regulate my actions accordingly,” and he spoke this verse: [5.268]

The man-eater said:

The Bodhisatta said:

Thus did the Great Being discourse to him of the advantages of Dhamma. Then the man-eater, regarding his face, glorious as a lotus in bloom or as the full moon, thought: “This Sutasoma sees me preparing a pile of embers and sharpening a spit and yet does not show an atom of fear. Can this be the magic power in these verses that are worth a hundred pieces or does it arise from some other truth? I will ask him.” And in the form of a question he repeated this verse:

The Great Being in answer to him said:

On hearing this the man-eater thought: “This king Sutasoma is a good and wise man: supposing I were to eat him, my skull would split into seven pieces, or the earth would open her mouth and swallow me up,” and being terrified he said: “My friend, you are not the sort of man that I ought to eat,” and he repeated this verse:

Thus did he address the Great Being, saying: “You are, as it were, a deadly poison, I think; who will eat you?” and being anxious to hear those verses he besought him to tell him them, and when in order to produce a due reverence for holy things his prayer was rejected by the Great Being, on the ground that he was no proper recipient of verses of such exceptionable morality, he said: “In all Jambudīpa there is no sage like this, for when he was released from my hand he went and heard these verses, and after paying due honour to the preacher of the Dhamma he came back again with death written on his forehead. These verses must be of transcendent excellence,” and being still more filled with a reverent desire to hear them, he besought the Great Being and repeated this verse:

Then the Great Being thought: “The man-eater is now eager to hear: I will reveal them to him,” and he said: “Well then, my friend, listen carefully,” and having gained his attention he sang the praises of these verses exactly as he was taught them by the brahmin Nanda, while the gods in the six worlds of sense all broke into one loud cry, {5.494} and the Devas in heaven shouted applause, and the Great Being thus proclaimed the Dhamma to the man-eater:

Owing to these verses being so well delivered by the Great Being and to the fact that he himself was wise, the man-eater thought: “These verses are, as it were, the words of an Omniscient Buddha,” and his whole body thrilled with the five kinds of joy, and he felt a tender pity for the Bodhisatta and regarded him in the light of a father that was ready to confer on him the white umbrella of royalty.

The Boons

And he thought: “I see no offerings of yellow gold to give to Sutasoma, but for each verse I will grant him a boon,” and he spoke this verse:

Then the Great Being upbraided him and said: “What boon, forsooth, will you offer me?” and he repeated this verse: {5.495}

Then the man-eater said: “He does not believe me; I will make him believe me,” and he repeated this verse:

Then the Great Being thought: “He has spoken like a brave fellow and will do what I tell him; I will accept his offer. But if I should choose as the very first boon that he should abstain from eating human flesh, he will be very sick at heart. I will first choose three other boons, and after that I will choose this,” and he said:

The man-eater, on hearing this, thought: “This man, even though I have driven him from his sovereignty, now wishes long life for me, the noted robber that lusts after human flesh and would do him a mischief. Ah! He is my well-wisher.” And he was glad at heart, not knowing that this boon had been chosen to cheat him to his good, and in granting the boon he uttered this verse: [5.271]

Then the Bodhisatta said:

Thus did he in choosing a second boon gain the boon of life for over a hundred nobles, and the man-eater in granting the boon to him said:

Well, did these kings hear what they were talking about? They did not hear it all. For when the man-eater lighted a fire, for fear of any injury to the tree from the smoke and flame, he stepped back a space from it, and the Great Being conversed with him, seated in the interval between the fire and the tree, and consequently these kings did not hear all that they said, but heard only partially, and they comforted one another, saying: “Fear not: now will Sutasoma convert the man-eater,” and at this moment the Great Being spoke this verse:

Thus did the Great Being in making his third choice choose the restoration of these nobles, each to his own kingdom. Why was this? Because the Yakkha, supposing he did not eat them, through fear of their hostility would either enslave them all and make them dwell in the forest, or would slay them and expose their dead bodies, or would bring them to the border country and sell them as slaves; and therefore he made choice as his boon of their restoration to their own kingdoms, and the man-eater in granting his request spoke this verse:

Now in making his fourth choice the Bodhisatta spoke this verse:

When he had so spoken, the man-eater clapped his hands and laughing said: “Friend Sutasoma, what in truth is this that you say? How can I grant you this boon? If you are anxious to receive another boon, choose something else,” and he uttered this verse:

Then the Great Being said: “Because you love man’s flesh, you say, “I cannot abstain from it.” He verily that does evil because it is pleasant is a fool,” and he repeated this verse:

When these words had been spoken by the Great Being, the man-eater was overcome with fear and thought: “I can neither repudiate the choice Sutasoma has made nor abstain from human flesh. {5.499} What in the world am I to do?” and with his eyes swimming in tears he repeated this verse:

Then the Bodhisatta said:

After he had thus spoken, the man-eater sorely lamenting repeated this verse:

Then the Great Being spoke this verse:

Once more, still weeping, the man-eater spoke this verse:

Then the Great Being said:

When he had thus pointed out the verse uttered in the first instance by the man-eater, to inspire him with courage to grant the boon, he spoke this verse:

Thus did the Great Being by these means establish the man-eater in the Dhamma, and now to make clear to him his own title to respect he spoke this verse:

After repeating these verses he said: “My man-eating friend, it is not right that you should transgress the words of so excellent a master, and I, too, when you were young, acted as your private teacher and gave you much instruction, and now with all the charm of a Buddha I have repeated to you verses worth a hundred pieces each: therefore you ought to obey my words.” On hearing this the man-eater thought: “Sutasoma was my teacher and a learned man, and I granted him the choice of a boon. What am I to do? Death verily is a certainty in the case of an individual existence. I will not eat human flesh but will grant him the boon he asks,” and with tears streaming front his eyes he rose up and fell at king Sutasoma’s feet, and in granting the boon he repeated this verse: {5.502}

Then the Great Being said: “So be it, friend; to one firmly grounded in moral practice, verily even death is a boon. I accept, sire, the boon you have offered me. From this very day you are established in the path of a spiritual guide, and this being so I beg this favour of you; if you have any love for me, accept, sir, the Five Precepts.” “Very good,” he answered, “teach me, friend, these precepts.” “Learn then from me, sire.” So he saluted the Great Being with the five rests [It means with palms, feet and head all on the floor.] and took a seat apart, and the Great Being established him in the precepts.

Releasing the Kings

At that moment the deities that dwell on the earth gathered together and said: “There is no one else from the inhabitants of the Avīci hell to those of the highest of the Formless Worlds that by inspiring affection for the Great Being could make this man-eater abstain from eating human flesh. Oh! A miracle has been wrought by Sutasoma,” and they applauded, making the jungle re-echo with their loud cries, and hearing the tumult the Four Great Kings did likewise and there was one universal roar reaching even to the Brahmā Realm.

And the kings suspended on the tree heard this noise of applauding Devatā, and the Tree Devatā still standing in her abode uttered a sound of applause. So the cry of the Devatā was heard, but their form was invisible. The kings on hearing the loud applause of the Devatā thought: “Owing to Sutasoma our lives are saved: Sutasoma has wrought a miracle in converting the man-eater,” The sense is clear, but the construction of damento is irregular. and they offered up their praises to the Bodhisatta. The man-eater after bowing down to the feet of the Great Being stood apart. Then the Great Being said to him, “Friend, release these warrior princes.” He thought: “I am their enemy; if they are released by me, they will say, ‘Seize him, he is an enemy of ours,’ and will do me a mischief, but even if I lose my life, I cannot transgress the precepts which I have accepted at the hands of Sutasoma: I will go with him and release them and in this way I shall find safety.” Then bowing to the Bodhisatta he said: “Sutasoma, we will go together and release the warrior princes,” and he repeated this verse: {5.503}

Then the Bodhisatta said to him:

And drawing nigh to them he said

Then they replied:

Then the Bodhisatta said: “Well, give me this promise,” and he repeated this verse:

They, too, agreeing to this, repeated this verse:

Thus did the Great Being exact a promise from them and summoning the man-eater he said: “Come and release these princes,” and the man-eater took his sword and severed the bonds of one of the kings, and as this king had been fasting for seven days and was maddened with pain, no sooner was he released by the cutting of his bonds than he fell on the ground, and the Great Being on seeing this was moved with compassion and said: “My man-eating friend, do not cut them down like this,” and taking hold of a king firmly with both hands he clasped him to his breast and said: “Now cut his bonds.” So the man-eater severed them with his sword and the Great Being, endowed as he was with great strength, placed him on his breast, and letting him down tenderly as though it were his own son laid him flat upon the ground. Thus did he lay them all on the ground, and after bathing their wounds he gently pulled the cords from their hands, just as it were a string from a child’s ear, and washing off the clotted blood he rendered the wounds harmless. And he said to the man-eater, “My friend, pound some bark from the tree on a stone and bring it to me.” And when he had got him to fetch it, he performed an Assertion of Truth and rubbed the palms of their hands, and at that very moment their wounds were healed. The man-eater took some husked rice and cooked it as a prophylactic, {5.505} and the pair of them gave it to the hundred and odd warrior princes to drink as a prophylactic, and so all of them were satisfied and the sun set.

On the next day at dawn and at noon and in the evening they still gave them rice water to drink, but on the third day they gave them gruel with boiled rice, and so on till they were convalescent. Then the Great Being asked them if they were strong enough to go home, and when they answered they were equal to the journey he said: “Come, my man-eating friend, let us depart to our own kingdom.” But weeping he fell at the Great Being’s [5.276] feet and cried, “Do you, my friend, take these kings and depart, but I will continue to live here on roots and wild berries.” “What would you do here, my friend? Your kingdom is a delightful one: go and reign at Benares.” “Friend, what is this you say? It is out of the question for me to go there: all the inhabitants of that city are my enemies. They will revile me and say, ‘This fellow ate my mother or my father; seize this brigand,’ and with a clod of earth they will deprive me of life, but if I am firmly established in the precepts by you, I could not kill anyone else, not even to save my life. I will not go. In consequence of my abstaining from eating human flesh how long shall I live? And now I shall no more set eyes on you,” and he wept, saying: “Do you go.” And the Great Being stroked him on the back and said: “My friend, my name is Sutasoma: I have ere now tamed just such a cruel wretch as yourself, and if you ask what story you are to tell in Benares, why, I will either establish you there, or dividing my own kingdom I will hand over half of it to you.” “In your city too I have enemies,” he said. Sutasoma thought: “In obeying my word this man has achieved a difficult task: by some means or other I must establish him in his former state of glory,” and to tempt him he sang the praises of the great glory of his city and said:

The Great Being thought: “Haply this man, calling to mind the flavour of dainties he enjoyed long ago, will be eager to come with me,” and so he tempted him first with food, next by appealing to his passions, thirdly by the thought of a bed, fourthly by song, dancing and music, fifthly [5.277] by remembrance of a park and a city – with all these thoughts he tempted him, saying: “Come, sire, I will go with you to Benares and firmly establish you there and afterwards return to my own kingdom; but if we shall fail in securing the kingdom of Benares, I will grant you half of my realm. What have you to do with a forest life? Only do what I tell you.” The man-eater after hearing his words was eager to go with him and he thought: “Sutasoma is anxious for my well-being and is a merciful man. He first established me in virtue and now he says he will restore me to my former glory, and he will be able to do so. I ought to go with him. What have I to do with a forest?” And being glad at heart he was eager by reason of his merit to sing Sutasoma’s praises, and he said: “Friend Sutasoma, there is nothing better than consorting with a virtuous friend, nothing worse than consorting with a wicked one,” and he repeated these verses:

The Return

Thus did that man-eater in seven verses sing the praises of the Great Being. But he took the man-eater and those kings and went to a frontier village, and the inhabitants on seeing the Great Being went to the city and reported it, and the king’s ministers came with an army and escorted the Great Being, and with this escort he came to the kingdom of Benares. And on his way there the country people brought presents and followed in his train, and a great company reached Benares with him.

At that time the man-eater’s son was the king and Kāḷahatthi was still commander-in-chief, and the people of the city reported it to the king, saying: “Sutasoma, they tell us, sire, has tamed the man-eater and is come here with him: we will not allow him to enter the city,” and they hastily closed the city gates and stood by with arms in their hands.

The Great Being, when he discovered [5.278] that the gate was closed, left the man-eater and the hundred and odd kings and coming with a few of his counsellors he cried, “I am king Sutasoma, open you the gate,” and the officers went and told the king, and he ordered them to open the gate with all speed, and the Great Being entered the city. And the king and Kāḷahatthi came out to meet him {5.509} and took him up with them to the tower of the palace. The Great Being seating himself on the royal throne summoned the man-eater’s chief consort and the rest of his counsellors, and addressing Kāḷahatthi said: “Why, Kāḷahatthi, do you not suffer the king to enter the city?” He answered, “The wicked wretch that he was, while he was ruling as king in this city, devoured many men and did that which is not lawful for nobles to do, and rent asunder all Jambudīpa: that is the reason why we act thus.” “Do not suppose,” he answered, “that he will act after this sort now. I have converted him and established him in the precepts. Not even to save his life will he do anyone an injury: you are in no danger from him; act not after this manner. Verily children ought to watch over their parents, they who cherish their father and mother go to heaven, the others go to hell.” Thus did he admonish the king’s son, as he sat by him on a low seat. And he instructed the commander-in-chief and said: “Kāḷahatthi, you are a friend and follower of the king, and were firmly established by him in great power; you too ought to act in the king’s interests.” And admonishing the queen he said: “You, O queen, came from a noble stock and from his hand acquired the position of chief consort and were blessed with many sons and daughters by him; you too ought to act in his interests.” And, to bring this matter to a head, in teaching the Dhamma he said:

The king and the commander-in-chief on hearing his exposition of the Dhamma were highly pleased and said: “Let us go and bring the great king here,” and having made proclamation in the city by beat of drum, they called together the inhabitants and said: “Be not afraid; the king, they tell us, is established in Dhamma: let us conduct him here.” So with a great multitude and with the Great Being at their head they went and [5.279] saluted the king. And they provided barbers and when his hair and beard had been shorn and he had taken a bath and put on goodly raiment, they placed him on a pile of precious stones and besprinkled him and then conducted him into the city. The man-eating king paid great honour to the hundred and more nobles and the Great Being, and there was great excitement throughout all Jambudīpa at the report that Sutasoma, lord of men, had converted the man-eater and re-established him on the throne. And the inhabitants of the city Indapatta sent a message bidding the kings return.

The Great Being stayed there just a month and admonished the king, saying: “Friend, we will be going; see that you are zealous in good works and have five alms halls erected at the city gates and at your palace door, and observe the ten royal virtues and guard against evil courses.” And from a hundred and more royal cities a numerous army {5.511} assembled together, and with this escort he went forth from Benares. The man-eater too going forth with him halted midway on the road. The Great Being presented horses to ride to such as had them not and then dismissed them all. And they exchanged friendly greetings with him, and then after fitting salutations and embraces they returned each to his own people.

The Great Being too on reaching Indapatta with great majesty entered the city, which its inhabitants had decorated like as it were a city of the gods. After paying his respects to his parents and expressing his pleasure at seeing them he ascended the palace tower.

While exercising just rule in his kingdom the thought occurred to him, “The Tree Devatā was very helpful to me; I will see that it receives an offering.” So he had a vast lake constructed near the banyan tree and transported there many families and founded a village. It grew into a big place supplied with eighty thousand shops. And starting from the farthest limits of its branches he levelled the ground about the roots of the tree and surrounded it with a balustrade vedikā. This word is discussed in Senart’s Mahāvastu, i. pp. 529 and 544, and in Vinaya Texts, iii. 104 and 162. furnished with arches and gates; and the Tree Devatā was propitiated. And owing to the fact of the village having been settled on the spot where the Yakkha was converted, the place grew into the town of Kammāsadamma. And all the kings, abiding in the admonition of the Great Being, performed good works such as alms-giving and the like, and attained to heaven.