Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

IX. 5. THE MONK WHO FAILED TO KEEP HIS REQUISITES IN ORDERS

One should not think lightly of evil. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a monk who failed to keep his requisites in order. [15]

The story goes that this monk would leave out of doors whatever requisites, such as beds and chairs, he used out of doors. His requisites, thus exposed to the ravages of rain and sun and white ants, soon went to pieces. His brother monks used to say to him, “Brother, ought you not to put away your requisites?” The monk would reply, “I have committed only a slight fault, brethren; it is not worth wasting thought or bile over.” Then he would do the same thing over again. The monks informed the Teacher of his doings. The Teacher sent for him and said to him, “Monk, is the report true that you are doing thus and so?” But even when the Teacher asked him, the monk replied, “Exalted Sir, I committed only a slight fault; it is not worth wasting thought or bile over.” Thus did he reply to the Teacher, expressing slight concern over what he had done. Then said the Teacher, “Monks should never act on this principle. One should never regard an evil deed as a small matter, saying, ‘It is a mere trifle.’ For when a water-vessel stands with mouth uncovered in the open [16] and the rain descends, it is not, to be sure, filled by a single drop of rain; but when it rains again and again, it is filled to the brim. Even so, little by little, the man who commits sin accumulates a huge pile of sin.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

121. One should not think lightly of evil and say, “It will not come nigh unto me.’

Even a water-vessel is filled by the falling of one drop of water after another;

Even so the simpleton fills himself with evil, though he gather it little by little.

1 Text: N iii. 15-16.

At the conclusion of the lesson many attained the Fruit of Conversion and the Fruits of the Second and Third Paths. Then the Teacher promulgated the following precept, “Whoever fails to remove a bed he has spread in the open air is guilty of sin.”

IX. 6. TREASURER CATFOOT

One should not think lightly of good. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Treasurer Catfoot, Biḷālapādaka. [17]

For once upon a time the residents of Sāvatthi banded themselves together and gave alms to the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha. Now one day the Teacher, in returning thanks, spoke as follows, “Lay disciples, here in this world one man himself gives, but does not urge others to give; in the various places where he is reborn, such a man receives the blessing of wealth but not the blessing of a retinue. A second man does not himself give, but urges others to give; in the various places where he is reborn, such a man receives the blessing of a retinue but not the blessing of wealth. A third man neither himself gives nor urges others to give; in the various places where he is reborn, such a man receives neither the blessing of wealth nor the blessing of a retinue. Lastly, a man both himself gives and urges others to give; in the various places where he is reborn, such a man receives both the blessing of wealth and the blessing of a retinue.”

Now a certain wise man who stood listening to the Teacher’s discourse on the Law, thought to himself, “This is indeed a wonderful thing! I will straightway perform works of merit leading to both of these blessings.” Accordingly he arose and said to the Teacher, as the latter was departing, “Reverend Sir, accept our offering of food to-morrow.” “But how many monks do you need?” “All the monks you have, Reverend Sir.” The Teacher [18] graciously consented to come. Then the layman entered the village and went hither and thither, proclaiming, “Women and men, I have invited the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha for to-morrow. Give rice and whatever else be needed for making rice-porridge and other kinds of food, each providing for as many monks as his means permit. Let us do all the cooking in one place and give alms in common.”

1 Text: N iii. 17-20.

Now a certain treasurer, seeing that the layman had come to the door of his shop, became angry and thought to himself, “Here is a layman who, instead of inviting as many monks as he could himself accommodate, is going about urging the entire village to give alms.” And he said to the layman, “Fetch hither the vessel you brought with you.” The treasurer took grains of rice in his three fingers, and presented them to the layman; similarly with different kinds of kidney-beans. Ever after that the treasurer bore the name of Catfoot, Biḷālapāda. Likewise in presenting ghee and jagghery to the layman, he placed a basket in the layman’s vessel, and allowing a corner to remain empty, dribbled out his offering pellet by pellet, giving him only a very little.

The lay disciple placed together the offerings which the rest presented to him, but placed apart by themselves the offerings of the treasurer. When the treasurer saw the layman do this, he thought to himself, “Why does he place apart by themselves the offerings I have presented to him?” In order to satisfy his curiosity, he sent a page with orders to follow the layman, saying to the page, “Go find out what he does with my offerings.” The layman took the offerings with him, and saying, “May the treasurer receive a rich reward,” put two or three grains of rice into the porridge and cakes, distributing beans and drops of oil and jaggery-pellets in all the vessels. The page returned [19] and told the treasurer what the layman had done. When the treasurer heard his report, he thought to himself, “If the layman blames me in the midst of the assembled company, I will strike him and kill him the moment he takes my name upon his lips.”

On the following day, therefore, the treasurer secreted a knife in a fold of his undergarment and went and stood waiting at the refectory. The layman escorted into the refectory the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, and then said to the Exalted One, “Reverend Sir, at my suggestion the populace has presented these offerings to you. All those persons whom I urged to give have given rice and other provisions according to their respective ability. May all of them receive a rich reward.” When the treasurer heard this, he thought to himself, “I came here with the intention of killing the layman in case he took my name upon his lips by way of blame; in case, for example, he said, ’ So and So took a pinch of rice and gave it to me.’ But instead of so doing, this layman has included all in his request for a blessing, both those who measured out their gifts in pint-pots and those who took pinches of food and gave, saying, ‘May all receive a rich reward.’ If I do not ask so good a man to pardon me, punishment from the king will fall upon my head.” And straightway the treasurer prostrated himself before the layman’s feet and said, “Pardon me, master.” “What do you mean?” asked the layman. Thereupon the treasurer told him the whole story.

The Teacher seeing this act, asked the steward of the offerings, “What does this mean?” Thereupon the layman told him the whole story, beginning with the incidents of the previous day. Then the Teacher asked the treasurer, “Is his story correct, treasurer?” “Yes, Reverend Sir.” Then said the Teacher, “Disciple, one should never regard a good deed as a small matter and say, ‘It is a mere trifle.’ One should never regard lightly an offering given to a Buddha like me, [20] or to the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, and say of it, ‘It is a mere trifle.’ For wise men who do works of merit, in the course of time, become filled with merit, even as a water-vessel which stands uncovered becomes filled with water.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

122. One should not think lightly of good and say, “It will not come nigh unto me.”

Even a water-vessel is filled by the falling of one drop after another;

Even so a wise man fills himself with good, though he gather it little by little.

IX. 7. MERCHANT GREAT-WEALTH

Even as a merchant. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Merchant Great-Wealth. [21]

The story goes that five hundred thieves sought to effect an entrance into the house of this merchant, but failed in the attempt. By and by the merchant filled five hundred carts with wares, but before setting out on his journey, sent the following message to the monks, “I am going to such and such a place on business. Let such of you as desire to go to this place come forth and proceed with me. Those who do so will not be troubled on the way for lack of food.” Five hundred monks heard the message, and as soon as they heard it, set out on the road with the merchant. Now those thieves also heard that the merchant was setting out on a journey, and no sooner did

1 Text: N iii. 21-24.

they hear the news than they went and secreted themselves in a forest by the way.

When the merchant reached the entrance to the forest, he halted in a certain village. There he spent three days disposing of the oxen, the carts, and the rest. During this time, however, he provided regularly for the monks. While he tarried there, the thieves sent out a certain man, saying to him, “Go find out when the merchant intends to leave the village and then come back and tell us.” The agent of the thieves went to that village and said to a friend of his, “When does the merchant intend to leave the village?” “Two days more and he will set out,” was the reply; “but why do you ask?” The agent of the thieves told him the reason, saying, “I belong to a band of five hundred thieves who are lying in wait for him in the forest.” “Very good,” said his friend; “go your way; he will be setting out right soon.” So saying, he dismissed him. [22]

Thought the friend of the thief, “Shall I restrain the thieves, or the merchant?” After thinking the matter over, he came to the following conclusion, “Why should I have anything to do with these thieves? Five hundred monks are living on the bounty of this merchant; I will therefore give the merchant a hint.” So he went to the merchant and said to him, “When do you intend to set out on your journey?” “On the third day,” replied the merchant. Then said the man, “Do just as I tell you. I have just learned that there are five hundred thieves lying in wait for you in the forest. Do not go there, I pray you.” “How do you know?” “I have a friend who belongs to the band. I know because he told me.” “Well then, why should I go on from this point at all? I will turn round and go back home again.”

Since the merchant still tarried, those thieves sent the same man back again to investigate. The man went and asked his friend. Learning the merchant’s plans, he went back and said to the thieves, “My friend tells me that the merchant intends to turn round and go back home again.” When the thieves heard that, they filed out of the forest and took up a position on the road leading in the opposite direction. But the merchant still tarried. So the thieves sent the same man back again, and he went as before to his friend. The friend of the thief, knowing where the thieves were now posted, again told the merchant. The merchant thought to himself, “I lack for nothing here; since this is the case, I will go neither forward nor backward, but will remain right here where I am.” Accordingly he went to the monks and said to them, [23] “Reverend Sirs, I am informed that a band of thieves posted themselves along the road with the intention of plundering me, and that upon hearing of my intention to turn back, they posted themselves on the road leading in the opposite direction. Now I have decided to go neither forward nor backward, but to remain right here where I am. If your reverences desire to remain right here also, suit your own pleasure.”

The monks decided under the circumstances to go back. Accordingly they took leave of the merchant, returned to Sāvatthi, and having saluted the Teacher, sat down respectfully at one side. The Teacher asked them, “Monks, did you not accompany the merchant of great wealth?” “Yes, Reverend Sir,” replied the monks; “but a band of thieves encompassed the comings and goings of the merchant of great wealth for the purpose of plundering him. Therefore he remained right where he was. But we have returned.” Then said the Teacher, “Monks, Merchant Great-Wealth is avoiding the path because thieves lie in wait for him there. Even so the man who would live avoids deadly poison. Even so should monks also avoid evil, regarding the Three Forms of Being as paths encompassed about by bands of thieves.” So saying, he joined the connection and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

123. Even as a merchant possessing small company and great wealth avoids a path where danger lurks,

Even as a man desiring to live avoids poison, so should a man avoid evil.

IX. 8. THE ENCHANTED HUNTERS

If in his hand. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veluvana with reference to the hunter Kukkuṭamitta. [24]

Once upon a time there lived in Rājagaha a certain rich man’s daughter. When she reached marriageable age, her mother and father lodged her in an apartment of royal splendor on the topmost floor of a seven-storied palace, with a female slave to guard her. One day towards evening, as she stood at her window looking down into the street below, she saw Kukkuṭamitta enter the city. Kukkuṭamitta was a hunter who made his living by killing deer; five hundred were

1 Text: N iii. 21-24.

the snares, and five hundred the spears, with which he used to catch them. Now the hunter Kukkuṭamitta had killed five hundred deer, had filled his cart with their flesh, and was entering the city sitting on the pole of his cart to market his kill.

When the rich man’s daughter saw him, she immediately fell in love with him. Giving her slave a present, she sent her out, saying, “Go find out when this hunter expects to return, and come back to me.” The slave went out, gave the hunter the present, and asked him the question her mistress had told her to ask. The hunter replied, “Today I shall sell the meat, and to-morrow morning early I shall come out of such and such a gate and [25] set out on my return journey.” The slave listened to the hunter’s reply and went back and told her mistress.

The rich man’s daughter laid out such of her clothes and jewels as she thought proper to take with her, and very early the following morning, having dressed herself in soiled garments, she left the house accompanied by a number of female slaves, carrying a water-pot in her hand, as though it was her intention to go to the landing on the river. Going to the place named by the hunter, she stood and watched for him to come. Very early the following morning the hunter also set out, driving his cart. The rich man’s daughter fell in behind his cart and followed him. When the hunter saw the rich man’s daughter, he said to her, “I do not recognize you as the daughter of anyone with whom I am acquainted; pray cease from following me, young woman.” Said the rich man’s daughter, “You did not summon me; I came of my own accord; be still and drive your cart.” The hunter repeatedly bade her turn back, but to no purpose. Finally she said to him, “When good fortune comes to one, one shouldn’t turn it away.” Then the hunter knew for certain that she was following him, immediately assisted her to mount the cart, and continued his journey. Her mother and father sought everywhere to find her, but finding her nowhere, concluded that she must be dead, and held the funeral feast in honor of the dead. After living with the hunter, she gave birth to seven sons. When her sons reached manhood, she got them married.

Now one day as the Teacher surveyed the world at dawn, he observed that Kukkuṭamitta and his sons and daughters-in-law had entered the Net of his Knowledge. Thereupon he considered within himself, “What will this come to?” Becoming aware that all fifteen possessed the dispositions requisite to conversion, he took bowl and robe and went to the place where Kukkuṭamitta’s nets were spread.

Now it so happened that on that day not a single animal had been caught in any of his nets. [26] The Teacher left his footprint on one of the hunter’s nets, went on, and sat down under a bush in the shade. Very early in the morning Kukkuṭamitta took his bow and went to the place where his nets were spread. He inspected all of his nets from first to last, and found that he had caught not a single animal. Finally he saw the Teacher’s footprint, whereupon the thought occurred to him, “Somebody is going about setting free the animals I have caught.” His anger was aroused against the Teacher, and when, as he proceeded on his way, he caught sight of the Teacher sitting under the bush, he immediately drew his bow and said to himself, “That is the man who set free the animals I caught; I will kill him.” The Teacher permitted him to draw his bow, but did not permit him to shoot. So there the hunter stood, unable to shoot the arrow and unable to take it from the string, wearied to exhaustion, with saliva streaming from his mouth, as if his ribs had been shattered.

When his sons returned home, they said, “Our father is a long time returning home; what can be the matter?” So the mother sent them out, saying, “My dear sons, go and seek your father.” Accordingly they took their bows and set out. When they saw their father standing there enchanted, they said to themselves, “That must be some enemy of our father;” and forthwith those seven brothers drew their bows. But through the supernatural power of the Buddha they were all rooted to the spot immovable, even as was their father, and there they stood. Their mother asked herself, “Why are my sons so long in returning home?” So she went to the place where her husband and sons had gone, accompanied by her seven daughters-in-law. When she saw her husband and sons standing there enchanted, she thought to herself, “At whom, pray, are they aiming their bows?” When she looked beyond and saw the Teacher, she stretched forth her hands and cried out with a loud voice, “Do not kill my father; do not kill my father.”

Kukkuṭamitta heard her cry, and thought to himself, “I am indeed lost; so that is my father-in-law; oh, [27] what a wicked deed I have done!” Likewise his sons thought to themselves, “So that is our grandfather; oh, what a wicked deed we have done!” As Kukkuṭamitta thought, “That is my father-in-law,” his disposition became friendly. Likewise, as his sons thought, “That is our grandfather,” their disposition became friendly. Then their mother, the rich man’s daughter, spoke to them and said, “Throw away your bows immediately; ask my father to pardon you.” The Teacher, knowing that their hearts had softened, permitted them to lower their bows. Then all of them bowed low before the Teacher and asked his pardon, saying, “Pardon us, Reverend Sir.” So saying, they sat down respectfully on one side. Thereupon the Teacher preached the Law to them in orderly sequence. At the end of his discourse Kukkuṭamitta and his seven sons and his seven daughters-in-law, making fifteen persons in all, were established in the Fruit of Conversion.

The Teacher made his round for alms, and after breakfast returned to the monastery. On his return the Elder Ānanda asked him, “Reverend Sir, where have you been?” “I have been with Kukkuṭamitta, Ānanda.” “Did you prevail upon him to abandon the taking of life, Reverend Sir?” “Yes, Ānanda. Kukkuṭamitta, together with his seven sons and “his seven daughters-in-law, has become rooted and grounded in immovable faith, has professed faith in the Three Jewels, and has abandoned the taking of life.” Said the monks,” Reverend Sir, has he not a wife?” “Yes, monks, he has a wife; and when she was a mere girl, living with her family, she obtained the Fruit of Conversion.”

The monks began to discuss the matter, saying, “So Kukkuṭamitta has a wife, and when she was a mere girl she obtained the Fruit of Conversion; yet she married this hunter and by him had seven sons. Furthermore, during all this time, whenever her husband said to her, ‘Bring me my bow, bring me my arrows, bring me my hunting-knife, bring me my net,’ she obeyed him and gave him what he asked for. And her husband, taking what she had given him, went and took life. Is it possible that those who have obtained the Fruit of Conversion take life?” [28] Just then the Teacher approached and asked, “Monks, what is it that you are sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, he said, “Monks, of course those that have obtained the Fruit of Conversion do not take life. Kukkuṭamitta’s wife did what she did because she was actuated by the thought, ‘I will obey the commands of my husband.’ It never occurred to her to think, ‘He will take what I give him and go hence and take life.’ If a man’s hand be free from wounds, even though he take poison into his hand, yet the poison will not harm him. Precisely so, a man who harbors no thoughts of wrong and who commits no evil, may take down bows and other similar objects and present them to another, and yet be guiltless of sin.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

124. If in his hand there be no wound,

A man may carry poison in his hand.

Poison cannot harm him who is free from wounds.

No evil befalls him who does no evil.

On a subsequent occasion the monks began the following discussion, “On what basis did Kukkuṭamitta, together with his sons and his daughters-in-law, attain the Path of Conversion? And why was he reborn as a hunter?” At that moment the Teacher drew near and asked, “Monks, what is it that you are sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, [29] he said,

8 a. Story of the Past: The city treasurer and the country treasurer

Monks, in times past men planned a shrine for the relics of the Buddha Kassapa. And they said, “What shall be the mortar for this shrine, and what shall be the water?” And this was their decision, “Yellow orpiment and red arsenic shall be the mortar and sesame oil shall be the water.” Accordingly they reduced yellow orpiment and red arsenic to a powder and mixed it with sesame oil. Then, cutting bricks in two, and alternating bricks and blocks of gold, they laid up an inner wall. The outer wall consisted of solid blocks of gold, each of which was worth a hundred thousand pieces of money.

When the shrine was completed as far as the receptacle for the relics, they thought, “Now that we have reached the receptacle for the relics, we have need of a large amount of money; whom shall we make our foreman?” A certain village treasurer said, “I will be foreman.” So saying, he contributed a crore of gold towards the reliquary. When the inhabitants of the country saw what he had done, they said, “This city treasurer is just piling up money. But in spite of the fact that a shrine is building so splendid as this, he is not willing to contribute enough money to make himself chief. Therefore the village treasurer, by reason of his contribution of a crore of treasure, will become foreman.” And they were greatly offended. The city treasurer heard their words and said, “I will give two crores and be foreman myself.” So saying, he contributed two crores. Thereupon the village treasurer said, “I will be foreman,” and contributed three crores. Thus did the village treasurer and the city treasurer bid against each other, until finally the city treasurer offered to give eight crores.

Now the village treasurer had only nine crores of treasure in his house, while the city treasurer had forty. Therefore the village treasurer thought to himself, “If I give nine crores, this [30] city treasurer will say, ‘I will give ten crores,’ and I shall be plunged into poverty.” So the village treasurer said, “Not only will I give all this wealth, but I will myself, together with sons and wife, become the slave of this shrine.” And with his seven sons and his seven daughters-in-law and his wife, he surrendered himself to the shrine. The inhabitants of the country said, “It is possible to obtain money, but this man, with sons and wife, has surrendered his very self; let him alone be foreman.” So they made him foreman.

Thus did these sixteen persons become slaves of the shrine. The inhabitants of the country, however, made them freemen. In spite of this they cared for the shrine, and the shrine was their only care. When they finished the term of life allotted to them, they passed from that state of existence and were reborn in the World of the Gods. They remained in the World of the Gods during the interval between two Buddhas. In the dispensation of the present Buddha the wife passed from that state of existence and was reborn as the daughter of a rich man of Sāvatthi. When she was a mere girl, she attained Arahatship. But “Rebirth is a grievous matter for him who has not yet seen the Truth;” and so it was with her husband. After passing from birth to birth in the round of existences, he was at last reborn as a hunter. Thus it happened that no sooner did the rich man’s daughter see her former husband than her former passion for him returned! And it has been said,

Through past association or present advantage,

That love springs up again as the lotus in the water.

So it happened that solely because of her former love for him the rich man’s daughter married the hunter. Likewise, when her sons passed from that state of existence, they were conceived once more in her womb. Likewise her daughters-in-law were conceived once more in the wombs of their respective former mothers, and [31] when they reached marriageable age they married into the same households. And thus all those who at that time cared for the shrine, by the supernatural power of that meritorious work, attained the Fruit of Conversion. End of Story of the Past.

IX. 9. THE HUNTER WHO WAS DEVOURED BY HIS OWN DOGS

Whosoever commits offense against the man that is offenseless. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the hunter Koka.

The story goes that one day early in the morning, as Koka was on his way to the forest with bow in hand and a pack of hounds trailing after him, he met by the wayside a certain monk entering a village for alms. The sight of the monk angered him. As he continued on his way, he thought to himself, “I have met a Jonah; I shall get nothing to-day.” As for the Elder, when he had made his round of the village and eaten his breakfast, he set out to return to the monastery. Likewise the hunter, who had scoured the forest without bagging any game, set out on his return journey.

Seeing the Elder again, the hunter thought to himself, “Early this morning I met this Jonah, went to the forest, and got nothing; now he bobs up again before my very eyes; I will let my dogs eat him up.” So he gave the word to his dogs and set them on the Elder. As for the Elder, he begged the hunter for mercy, saying, “Do not so, lay disciple, I pray you.” The hunter replied, “Early this morning I met you face to face, and because of you I got nothing in the forest; now you bob up again before my very eyes; I will let my dogs eat you up, and that is all I have to say.” So saying, the hunter set his dogs on the Elder without more ado.

The Elder climbed a certain tree in haste, and settled himself in a fork of the tree a man’s height from the ground; the dogs closed around the tree. [32] The hunter Koka accompanied the dogs to the tree and said to the Elder, “Don’t delude yourself with the thought that you have escaped from my clutches merely by climbing a tree.” And forthwith he pierced the sole of one of the Elder’s feet with the point of an arrow. Again the Elder begged the hunter for mercy, saying, “Do not so, I pray you.” The hunter, however, paid no attention to the Elder’s entreaty, but pierced the sole of the Elder’s foot again and again with the point of the arrow. When the sole of one of the Elder’s feet had been pierced through and through, he drew up the wounded foot and let his other foot hang down; when the

1 Text: N iii. 31-34.

sole of that foot had been pierced through and through, he drew that foot up also. When the hunter had thus pierced through and through the soles of both of the Elder’s feet in spite of the Elder’s entreaties, the Elder felt as though his body had been set on fire with torches. So intense was the pain he suffered that he was unable any longer to fix his attention; the robe which he wore as an outer garment dropped from his body, but he did not even notice that it had fallen. When the robe dropped from the Elder’s body, it fell upon the hunter Koka, covering him from head to foot.

“The Elder has fallen out of the tree,” thought the dogs. Forthwith they crept in under the robe, dragged out their own master, and devoured him, leaving only the bare bones. Once out from under the folds of the robe, the dogs stood and waited. The first thing they knew, the Elder broke off a dry stick and threw it at them. The moment the dogs saw the Elder they thought, “We have eaten our own master,” and straightway they scurried off into the forest. The Elder was greatly perplexed and disturbed. Thought he to himself, “The hunter lost his life because my robe fell and covered him; is my innocence still unimpaired?” With this thought in his mind he slipped down from the tree, went to the Teacher, and told him the whole story, beginning at the beginning. “Reverend Sir,” said he, “it was all because of my robe [33] that this hunter lost his life; is my innocence still unimpaired? Am I still a religious?” The Teacher listened to the Elder’s words and replied, “Monk, your innocence is still unimpaired; you are still a religious; it is he who offended against the offenseless that has gone to perdition. Moreover, this is not the first time he has done this very thing. In a previous state of existence also he offended against the offenseless and went to perdition for it.” And when the Teacher had thus spoken, he illustrated the matter further by relating the following

9 a. Story of the Past: Wicked physician, boys, and poisonous snake

The story goes that in times long past a certain physician made the rounds of a village seeking employment for his services. Finding none, and overcome with hunger, he departed from that village. As he passed out of the village gate, he noticed a throng of little boys

1 This story is derived from Jātaka 367: iii. 202-203. Cf. story i. la. The wicked physician and the woman.

playing about the gate. As soon as the physician saw them, he thought to himself, “I will let a snake bite these boys, then I will treat their wounds; thus I shall obtain food for myself.” Accordingly he pointed to a snake that lay in the hole of a certain tree with his head thrust out and said to the boys, “Boys, there is a young Salika bird; catch him.” One of the boys immediately gripped the snake firmly by the neck and dragged him out of his hole. But as soon as he discovered that he had a snake in his hands, he screamed and threw the snake on the head of the physician, who stood close by. The snake coiled about the shoulders of the physician, bit him hard, and then and there killed him.

“Thus,” concluded the Teacher, “in a previous state of existence also this hunter Koka offended against the offenseless and went to perdition for it.” When the Teacher had related this Story of the Past, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

125. Whosoever commits offense against the man that is offenseless,

Against the man that is free from impurity and sin,

Unto that very simpleton returns that evil deed again,

Like fine dust tossed against the wind.

IX. 10. THE JEWELER, THE MONK, AND THE HERON

Some are reborn on earth. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Tissa, an Elder who resorted to a jeweler for alms. [34]

This Elder, it seems, had taken his meals in the house of a certain jeweler for twelve years, and the master and mistress of the household had ministered to his wants as faithfully as a mother or father might do. Now one day the jeweler sat chopping some meat, and the Elder sat before him. At that moment King Pasenadi Kosala sent a certain precious stone to the jeweler together with the following message, “Clean it, pierce it, and send it back.” The jeweler, although his hands were covered with blood, took the stone in his hand and placed it in a jewel-box. [35] Then he went into an inner room to wash his hands.

1 For a discussion of the motif on which this story turns, see Bloomfield, JAOS.t 36, 63-65. Text: N iii. 34-37.

Now the jeweler had a pet heron in his house; and the heron, concluding from the smell of blood that the jewel must be a piece of meat, swallowed the jewel before the very eyes of the Elder. When the jeweler returned and discovered that the jewel had disappeared, he asked his wife and his sons in turn,” Did you take the jewel?” “Indeed we did not take it,” they replied. The jeweler immediately concluded, “The Elder must have taken it;” and whispered to his wife, “The Elder must have taken the jewel.” His wife replied, “Husband, say not so. During all the years the Elder has visited this house, I have never observed a flaw in him; it was not he that took the jewel.”

Then the jeweler asked the Elder, “Reverend Sir, did you take a precious stone in this place?” “No, lay disciple, I did not take it.” “Reverend Sir, there was nobody else here. You, and you alone, must have taken the jewel. Give me back the precious stone.” Since the Elder steadfastly refused to admit that he had taken the jewel, the jeweler said to his wife, “It must have been the Elder that took the jewel. I will question him even by torture.” “Husband, do not ruin us; it were better far for us to become slaves than to lay such a charge at the door of the Elder.” But the jeweler replied, “Were all of us to become slaves, we should not bring the price of that jewel.”

The jeweler took a rope, bound the head of the Elder, [36] and beat him on the head with a stick. Blood streamed from the Elder’s head, ears, and nostrils, and his eyes looked as though they would pop out of their sockets. Overwhelmed with the pain, the Elder fell prostrate on the ground. The heron sniffing the blood, approached the Elder and began to drink the blood. At this the jeweler, beside himself with anger at the Elder, screamed, “What are you doing here?” and kicked the heron out of the way. But a single blow sufficed to kill the heron and he turned over on his back.

When the Elder saw that, he said to the jeweler, “Lay disciple, just slacken the rope about my head and see whether the heron is dead or not.” The jeweler answered him, “You also will die just as has this heron.” “Lay disciple, it was this heron that swallowed that jewel. However, had not the heron died, I would sooner have died myself than have told you what became of the jewel.” The jeweler immediately ripped open the crop of the heron, and the first thing he saw was the jewel. Thereupon he trembled in every limb, his heart palpitated with excitement, and flinging himself at the feet of the Elder, he said, “Pardon me, Reverend Sir; what I did I did in my ignorance.” “Lay disciple,” replied the Elder, “it was not your fault at all, and neither was it my fault; the round of existences alone is to blame for this. I pardon you freely.” “Reverend Sir, if it is really true that you have pardoned me, then pray take your accustomed seat in my house once more and accept alms at my hands.” “Lay disciple, I shall not henceforth set foot under the roof of anybody’s house; my present plight is the result of entering other men’s houses. [37] From this time forth, whithersoever my feet may carry me, I’ shall receive alms only when standing at the house-door.” Thus did the Elder speak, taking upon himself one of the Pure Precepts. And when he had thus spoken, he pronounced the following Stanza,

Food is cooked for the sage, a little here and a little there, in one house after another.

I will journey about on my round for alms; a good stout leg is mine.

But not long after the Elder had spoken these words, he passed into Nibbāna as the result of the beating he had received at the hands of the jeweler. The heron was reborn in the womb of the jeweler’s wife. When the jeweler died, he was reborn in Hell. When the jeweler’s wife died, she was reborn, because of her soft-heartedness towards the Elder, in the World of the Gods.

The monks asked the Teacher about their future state. Said the Teacher, “Monks, of living beings here in this world, some reenter the womb; others who are evildoers go to Hell; others, who have done good deeds go to the World of the Gods; while they that have rid themselves of the Contaminations, pass to Nibbāna.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

126. Some are reborn on earth, evildoers go to hell,

The righteous go to heaven, Arahats pass to Nibbāna.

IX. 11. THREE PARTIES OF MONKS

Neither in the heaven above. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to three groups of persons. [38]

11 a. Story of the Present: A crow burned to death

The story goes that while the Teacher was in residence at Jetavana, a party of monks set out to pay him a visit, and entered a certain

1 Text: N iii. 38-44.

village for alms. The inhabitants of the village took their bowls, provided seats for them in a rest-house, offered them rice-porridge and hard food, and while awaiting time for almsgiving, sat and listened to the Law. At that moment a flame of fire shot up from under the cooking-vessel of a certain woman who was boiling rice and seasoning sauce and curry, and caught the thatch of the roof; whereupon a bundle of grass detached itself from the thatch and floated away into the air a mass of flames.

At that moment a crow came soaring through the air, thrust his neck into the bundle of grass, was instantly enveloped in the blazing mass, burned to a crisp, and fell to the ground in the heart of the village. All this happened before the very eyes of the monks, and they said, “Oh, what a terrible thing has happened! Just look, brethren, at the dreadful death that has overtaken this crow! As for what he did in a previous state of existence to be overtaken by so dreadful a death, who is likely to know other than the Teacher alone? Let us therefore ask the Teacher what he did in a previous state of existence.” And with this purpose in mind they departed.

11 b. Story of the Present: A woman cast overboard

A second party of monks set out to pay the Teacher a visit and embarked in a ship. When the ship reached mid-ocean, it stopped and stood stock-still. “There must be a Jonah on board,” said the passengers, and cast lots. Now the captain had his wife on board, and she was a young woman in the bloom of youth, exceedingly beautiful and fair to see. When, therefore, they cast lots for the first time and the lot fell upon the captain’s wife, they said, “Cast lots again.” So they cast lots the second and the third time, and three times in succession [39] the lot fell upon the captain’s wife. Thereupon the passengers went to the captain, looked him straight in the face, and asked him, “What about it, master?” The captain replied, “It is not right to sacrifice the lives of all on board for the sake of this lone woman; throw her overboard.” So they seized the woman and started to throw her overboard. All of a sudden, terrified with the fear of death, she let out a loud scream. When the captain heard her scream, he said, “There is no sense in allowing her jewels to go down with her; remove her jewels, every one, wrap her in a piece of cloth, and then throw her overboard into the sea. But I shall not have the heart to witness her death-struggle on the surface of the water. Therefore, in order to make sure that I shall not see her, tie a jar of sand about her neck in this fashion and then throw her overboard.” They did as the captain told them to. The moment she struck the water, fishes and tortoises swam up and tore her limb from limb. When the monks learned what had happened, they said, “With the single exception of the Teacher, who is likely to know what this woman did in a previous state of existence? Let us ask the Teacher what it was that she did.” So as soon as they reached the haven where they would be, they disembarked and set out to see the Teacher.

11 c. Story of the Present: Monks imprisoned in a cavern

Likewise seven other monks set out to see the Teacher. Arriving at a certain monastery in the evening, they entered and asked for a night’s lodging. Now there were seven beds in a certain rock-cell, and the seven monks, having obtained permission to sleep in this cavern, immediately lay down and went to sleep. In the night a rock as big as a pagoda came rolling down the opposite slope and stopped at the entrance to the cavern, blocking it completely. When the resident monks discovered what had happened, they said, “This cavern we provided for the express use of visiting monks. But this huge rock has fallen and blocked the entrance to the cavern completely; [40] let us remove it.” So they gathered together the men from seven villages, and the men and the monks without struggled with might and main, and the monks who were imprisoned within struggled with might and main, but in spite of their combined efforts they were unable to budge the rock. Worse yet, for seven days they were unable to budge the rock, and for seven days the visiting monks, overcome with hunger, suffered greatly. Finally, on the seventh day, suddenly and without warning, the rock rolled away from the entrance to the cavern of its own accord, and the visiting monks were free. When they came out of the cavern, they thought to themselves, “With the single exception of the Teacher, who is likely to be able to explain the disaster with which we were overtaken? Let us ask the Teacher about it.” And with this purpose in mind they departed.

These seven monks met the two other parties of monks on the way, and all three parties of monks continued their journey together. Together they approached the Teacher, saluted him, and seated themselves at one side. Then, one after another, the three parties of monks asked the Teacher to explain the incidents which they had witnessed and in which they had had a share. The Teacher took up the incidents one after another and explained them as follows:

11 d. Story of the Past: Burning of an ox

“Monks, as for that crow, he experienced identically the same form of suffering he had once inflicted upon another. For in times long past that crow was a certain farmer of Benāres. Once upon a time he tried to break in an ox of his, but try as he might, he could not break him in. His ox would go a little way and then lie down; and when the farmer beat him, he would get up, go a little farther, and then lie down again. Finally, after the farmer had done his best to make his ox go and had failed completely, his anger got the better of him. [41] Said the farmer to the ox, ‘Very well! from this moment you shall lie here to your heart’s content.’ So saying, the farmer wrapped the body of the ox with straw just as he would make a bundle of straw; and when he had so done, he set fire to the straw. Then and there the ox was burned to a crisp, and then and there he died. This, monks, is the evil deed which that crow committed at that time. Through the ripening of that evil deed he suffered torment in Hell for a long period of time, and thereafter, because the fruit of that evil deed was not yet exhausted, he was seven times in succession reborn as a crow.

11 e. Story of the Past: Drowning of a dog

“As for that woman, monks, she too experienced identically the same form of suffering she once inflicted upon another. For in times long past that woman was the wife of a certain householder of Benāres. She used to do with her own hand all of the household duties, such as fetching water, pounding rice, and cooking. And she had a certain dog that used to sit watching her as she performed her duties within the house; and whenever she went to the field to gather rice, or whenever she went to the forest to pick up firewood and leaves, that dog always went with her. One day some young men, seeing her with her dog, said jestingly, ‘Ah! here is a hunter come out with a dog; to-day we shall have some meat to eat!’ Annoyed by their jesting, the woman beat the dog with sticks and stones and clods of earth, and chased him away. The dog, however, ran back only a little way and then turned around and began to follow her again.

(It appears that in his third previous existence that dog had been her husband, and therefore it was impossible that he should ever lose his affection for her. In the revolution of being which has no conceivable beginning, there is no one who has not at some time or other been the wife or husband of somebody else. Of course, in states of existence not far removed, the affection that persists for relatives is exceedingly strong; [42] and this is the reason why that dog simply could not leave his mistress.)

“The woman was in a great rage when she reached her husband’s field. After she had gathered what rice she needed, she picked up a rope, put it in the fold of her dress, and started back home. All this time that dog was following in her footsteps. After the woman had given her husband his meal of rice-porridge, she took an empty water-pot in her hand and started off for a certain water-pool. Having filled the vessel with sand, she looked about her, when all of a sudden she heard the dog bark close by. Immediately the dog ran up to her, wagging his tail and thinking to himself, ‘It is a long time since I have had a pleasant word from her to-day.’ The woman seized the dog firmly by the neck, fastened one end of the rope to the water-vessel and the other to the dog’s neck, and then started the vessel rolling down the slope into the water. The dog was dragged along by the water-vessel, fell into the water and died then and there. Through the ripening of that evil deed that woman suffered torment for a long period of time in Hell; and thereafter, because the fruit of that evil deed was not yet exhausted, in a hundred successive existences a jar of sand was tied to her neck, she was thrown into the water, and in this manner suffered death.

11 f. Story of the Past: Imprisonment of a lizard

“In like manner, monks, you too have experienced identically the same form of suffering you once inflicted upon others. For example, in times long past there lived in Benāres seven young cowherds. For seven days by turns they used to tend a herd of cattle. One day, as they were returning home after tending their cattle, they caught sight of a huge lizard. They immediately ran after the lizard, but the lizard ran faster than they did and slipped into a certain ant-hill. Now there were seven holes in this ant-hill, and the boys immediately concluded, ‘We shall not be able to catch this lizard to-day; we will come back again to-morrow and then we shall catch him.’ Accordingly each of them took a fistful of broken twigs, and between them the seven boys stuffed the seven holes full. Having so done, [43] they went away. On the following day they drove their cows in a different direction and forgot all about that lizard. On the seventh day they came along with their cows, saw that ant-hill, and suddenly remembered about the lizard. ‘What has become of the lizard?’ thought they. Immediately each of them removed the twigs which they had stuffed into the seven holes. The lizard, caring little whether he lived or not, immediately came out of the hole, reduced to skin and bones, quaking and trembling. When those boys saw him, they took pity on him and said, ‘Do not kill him; he has not had a thing to eat for seven days.’ And they stroked him on the back and let him go, saying, ‘Go in peace.’ Now because those boys did not kill that lizard they escaped torture in Hell, but in fourteen successive existences that band of seven lacked food for seven successive days. Monks, you were those cowherds at that time, and that was the evil deed you committed.”

Thus did the Teacher, in answer to their questions, explain those three incidents. When he had finished speaking, a certain monk asked him, “But, Reverend Sir, if a man has committed an evil deed, can he not escape from the consequences thereof, either by soaring into the air, or by diving into the sea, or by entering a cave in a mountain?” Said the Teacher, “It matters not, monks, where he may seek to hide himself, whether in the air or in the sea or in the bowels of the earth; there is no place on earth where a man can escape from the consequences of an evil deed.” So speaking, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza, [44]

127. Neither in the heaven above, nor in the depths of the sea,

Nor in a cavern of the mountains, should one there enter;

Nowhere on earth can the place be found

Where a man can escape from the consequences of an evil deed.

IX. 12. SUPPABUDDHA INSULTS THE TEACHER

Neither in the heaven above. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Nigrodha Monastery with reference to Suppabuddha the Sakiya. [44]

The story goes that Suppabuddha the Sakiya took offense at the Teacher because the latter renounced his daughter and retired

1 Cf. Hardy, ManwalolBw(fcZM’m, pp. 351-352. Text: N iii. 44-47.

from the world, and because, after receiving his son into the Order, he assumed a hostile attitude towards him. [45] So one day he said to himself, “I will not permit the Teacher to go where he has been invited and partake of food.” Accordingly he seated himself in the street, drinking strong drink, and blocking the Teacher’s way. When the Teacher with his retinue of monks arrived at the spot in the street where sat Suppabuddha the Sakyan, they said to the latter, “The Teacher is come nigh.” Suppabuddha replied, “Tell him to go on his way; he is no older than I am. I will not make way for him.” Although announcement of the Teacher’s arrival was repeated several times to Suppabuddha the Sakyan, he invariably made the same answer and sat in the street just the same. Since his uncle refused to make way for him, the Teacher turned back. Suppabuddha the Sakyan sent a spy, saying to him, “Go listen to what the Teacher says and come back and tell me.”

As the Teacher returned on his way, he smiled. Thereupon the Elder Ānanda asked him, “Reverend Sir, why do you smile?” The Teacher replied, “Ānanda, just look at Suppabuddha the Sakyan.” “I see him, Reverend Sir.” “He has committed a grievous sin in refusing to make way for a Buddha like me. Seven days hence, on the ground floor of his palace, at the foot of the stairway, he will be swallowed up by the earth.” The spy heard these words and immediately hurried to Suppabuddha the Sakyan. Said the latter, “What did my nephew say, as he returned on his way?” The spy told his master just what he had heard. When Suppabuddha the Sakyan heard the words which his nephew had spoken, he said, “There is no immediate danger to me in the words which my nephew has spoken. To be sure, whatever he says will be fulfilled to the letter; but even so [46] I will yet prove him to be a liar. He did not say unqualifiedly, ‘On the seventh day he will be swallowed up by the earth.’ What he said was, ‘On the ground floor of the palace at the foot of the stairway he will be swallowed up by the earth.’ Henceforth, therefore, I will not go to that particular place; and by not being swallowed up by the earth at that particular spot, I will prove him to be a liar.”

Accordingly Suppabuddha the Sakyan had all of his household goods carried to the topmost floor of his seven-storied palace, had the stairway removed, had the door closed and barred, and stationed two strong men at each and every door. Said he to these strong men, “If I forget myself and start to come down, you are to make me go back.’ And having so said, he sat down in an apartment of royal splendor on the seventh floor of his palace. When the Teacher heard what he had done, he said, “Monks, let not Suppabuddha be content with ascending to the topmost floor of his palace; let him soar aloft and sit in the air, or let him put to sea in a boat, or let him enter into the bowels of a mountain; there is no equivocation in the words of the Buddhas; he will enter the earth precisely where I said he would.” And when he had thus spoken, he expounded the Law by pronouncing the following Stanza,

128. Neither in the heaven above, nor in the depths of the sea,

Nor in a cavern of the mountains, should one there enter;

Nowhere on the earth can the place be found

Where, if a man abide. Death would not overpower him. [47]

On the seventh day after the Teacher had been prevented from continuing his alms-pilgrimage, a state charger belonging to Suppabuddha broke loose on the ground floor of the palace, and ran about kicking first this wall and then that. Suppabuddha, although sitting on the topmost floor, heard the noise and asked what was the trouble. “Your state charger has broken loose,” was the answer. When the horse saw Suppabuddha, he immediately quieted down. Suppabuddha, desiring to catch him, arose from the seat where he had been sitting and started towards the door. Precisely at that moment the doors opened of their own accord, the stairway returned to its proper place, and the strong men who were posted at the door seized him by the neck and threw him down. In the same way the doors on all seven floors opened of their own accord, the stairways returned to their proper places, and the strong men who were posted at the doors seized him by the neck and threw him down. When he landed at the bottom of the stairway on the ground floor, at that moment the great earth opened and split apart and swallowed him up, and he descended therein and was reborn in the Avici Hell.

BOOK X.

THE ROD OR PUNISHMENT

DAṆḌA VAGGA

X. 1. THE BAND OF SIX

All men tremble. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the monks of the Band of Six. [48]

For once upon a time, when lodging had been made ready by the monks of the Band of Seventeen, the monks of the Band of Six said to the former, “We are older; this belongs to us.” The Band of Seventeen replied, “We will not give it to you; we were the first to make it ready.” Then the Band of Six struck their brother monks. The Band of Seventeen, terrified by the fear of death, screamed at the top of their lungs. The Teacher, hearing the outcry, asked, “What was that?” When they told him, he promulgated the precept regarding the delivering of blows, saying, “Monks, henceforth a monk must not do this; whoever does this is guilty of sin.” Having so done, he said, “Monks, one should say to himself, ‘As do I, so also do others tremble at the rod and fear death.’ Therefore one should not strike another or kill another.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

129. All men tremble at the rod; all men fear death.

One should treat one’s neighbor as oneself, and therefore neither strike nor kill.

X. 2. THE BAND OF SIX

All men tremble. This religious instruction was also given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the monks of the Band of Six. [50]

1 Derived from the Vinayay Culla Vagga, vi. 11: ii. 166-167; Pācittiya, Ixxiv. 1: iv. 145-146. Text: N iii. 48-49.

2 Derived from the Vinaya, Pācittiya, Ixxv. 1: iv. 146-147. Text: N iii. 49-50.

For once upon a time, the circumstances being the same as those which attended the promulgation of the foregoing precept, the monks of the Band of Six struck the monks of the Band of Seventeen, whereupon the latter made threatening gestures. On this occasion also the Teacher heard the outcry made by the latter and asked, “What is that?” Informed of the cause, he promulgated the precept regarding threatening gestures, saying, “Monks, henceforth no monk should do any such thing. Whoever does this is guilty of sin.” Having so done, he said, “Monks, a monk should consider, ‘As do I, so also do others tremble at the rod; as do I, so also do others cherish life.’ And bearing this thought in mind, he should neither strike another nor kill another.” So saying, he joined the connection and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanza,

130. All men tremble at the rod; to all men life is dear.

One should treat one’s neighbor as oneself, and should neither strike nor kill.

X. 3. A COMPANY OF BOYS

Whoever injures with the rod living beings that long for happiness. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to a company of boys. [51]

For one day, as the Teacher was entering Sāvatthi for alms, he saw by the wayside a company of boys beating a house-snake with a stick. Thereupon he asked, “Boys, what are you doing?” “Reverend Sir,” replied the boys, “we are beating a snake with a stick.” “Why are you doing that?” “Reverend Sir, we are afraid he will bite us.” Then said the Teacher, “If you beat this snake, thinking to yourselves, ‘We shall thereby insure our own happiness,’ the result will be that in the various places where you will be reborn you will not obtain happiness. They who seek to gain happiness for themselves should not strike another.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanzas,

131. Whoever injures with the rod living beings that long for happiness,

Longing himself for happiness, will not obtain happiness after death.

132. Whoever does not injure with the rod living beings that long for happiness,

Longing himself for happiness, will obtain happiness after death.

1 Text: N ill. 50-51.

X. 4. THE MONK AND THE PHANTOM

Speak not harshly to anyone. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to Elder Kuṇḍadhāna. [52]

The story goes that from the day Kuṇḍadhāna became a monk a certain female form accompanied the Elder wherever he went. The Elder himself never saw her, but everybody else saw her. Indeed, whenever the Elder made an alms-pilgrimage in a village, the inhabitants would first give the Elder a portion of alms, saying, “Reverend Sir, this is for you;” and then they would give the woman a second portion of alms, saying, “And this is for our female friend.”

4 a. Story of the Past: The goddess who took the form of a woman

The story goes that in the dispensation of the Buddha Kassapa there were two companion-monks who were as intimately associated with each other as though they had issued from the womb of the same mother. And in the dispensation of the Buddha Dighayu, as year by year and month by month the monks met together for the purpose of keeping fast-day, those same two monks would come forth from their lodging and say to each other, “Let us go to the Hall of Discipline together.”

Now a certain goddess reborn in the World of the Thirty-three, seeing those two monks, thought, “These two monks are too much together; is there perhaps some way by which I can separate them?” No sooner had she thought this in her folly than one of the two monks said to his companion, “Brother, wait a moment; I must attend to the needs of nature.” So soon as she heard this, that goddess [53] assumed the form of a woman and entered the thicket with the Elder. When he came out, she followed close behind him, arranging with one hand her tuft of hair and with the other her undergarment.

The Elder himself did not notice her, but when the monk who stood outside waiting for him turned and looked, he saw the woman come out, arranging her hair and her undergarment. As soon as the woman observed that the monk had seen her, she disappeared. When the Elder came up to the monk who was waiting for him, the latter

1 Cf. Thera-Gdtha Commentary, xv. Text: N iii. 52-58.

said to him, “Brother, you have broken your vow of chastity.” “I have done no such thing, brother.” “Why, I just saw a young woman come out after you, doing this and that. Yet you say, ‘I have done no such thing.’”

The Elder acted as if he had been struck by a thunderbolt. Said he, “Brother, do not ruin me. I have done no such thing.” Said the monk, “What I saw, I saw with my own eyes. Do you expect me to believe you?” And forthwith he broke off the tip of his staff and departed. Moreover, when he sat down in the Hall of Confession, he said, “I will not keep Fast-day in his company.” Said the Elder to the monks, “Brethren, there is not a fleck even the size of an atom on my chastity.” But the monk repeated, “What I saw, I saw with my own eyes.”

When the goddess saw that the monk was unwilling to keep Fast-day with the Elder, she thought to herself, “I have done a grievous wrong.” And straightway she said to the monk, “Reverend Sir, my noble Elder has not really violated his vow of chastity. I did this merely to try him. Pray keep Fast-day with him as usual.” When the monk saw the goddess poised in the air, and heard her speak those words, he believed her, and kept Fast-day with the Elder. [54] He was not, however, so kindly disposed to the Elder as before. Such was the former deed of the goddess. End of Story of the Past.

Now at the end of their allotted term of life, the Elders were reborn according to their good pleasure. The goddess was reborn in the Avici Hell, and after suffering torment there for a period of an interval between two Buddhas, was reborn in Sāvatthi in the dispensation of the present Buddha as a man. When he had grown up he retired from the world and became a monk, subsequently making his full profession. From the day he retired from the world, that same female form appeared and followed him. Therefore they gave him the name Kuṇḍadhāna. When the monks observed that he was followed about by a woman, they said to Anāthapiṇḍika, “Treasurer, drive this unchaste monk out of your monastery, for by reason of him reproach will fall upon all of the other monks.” “But, Reverend Sirs, is the Teacher not at the monastery?” “He is, lay disciple.” “Well then, the Teacher alone will know.” The monks went and said the same thing to Visākhā, and she gave them the same answer.

The monks, getting no satisfaction from the two lay disciples, reported the matter to the king, saying, “Great king, Kuṇḍadhāna goes about accompanied by a woman, and has thus cast reproach upon all the rest of the monks. Drive him out of your kingdom.” “But where is he, Reverend Sirs?” “In the monastery, great king.” “In which lodging does he reside?” “In such and such.” “Very well, go your way. I will have him caught.” So in the evening the king went to the monastery, caused the Elder’s lodging to be surrounded by his men, and himself stood facing the entrance to the Elder’s cell.

The Elder, hearing a loud noise, came out and stood facing the monastery. [55] The king immediately saw that phantom of a woman standing behind him. When the Elder observed that the king had come to his cell, he went up into the monastery again and sat down, but the king did not make obeisance to the Elder. The king saw the woman no more. Although he looked inside the door and under the bed, still he did not see her. Finally he said to the Elder, “Reverend Sir, I saw a certain woman in this place; where is she?” “I see none, great king.” Then said the king, “I just saw her behind your back.” But the Elder replied as before, “I see no woman, great king.”

“Reverend Sir, just step out here for a moment.” The Elder came out and stood below, facing the monastery. Again that woman stood behind the Elder. The king seeing her, ascended once more to the upper floor. The Elder observing that the king had gone, sat down. The king again looked everywhere, but for all that failed to see the woman. And again he asked the Elder, “Reverend Sir, where is that woman?” “I do not see her.” “Tell me the truth, Reverend Sir. I just saw a woman standing behind your back.” “Yes, great king; that is what everybody says. Everybody says, ‘A woman follows you wherever you go;’ but I never see her.” [56]

The king, suspecting it was a phantom, said once more to the Elder, “Reverend Sir, just step down for a moment.” When the Elder came down and stood facing the monastery, the king once more saw that woman standing behind him. But when the king ascended to the upper floor, he saw her no more. The king again questioned the Elder, but when the latter said, “I see no woman,” the king concluded that it must be a phantom. Accordingly he said to the Elder, “Reverend Sir, with such an impurity following about after you, no one will give even food to you. Therefore visit my house regularly, and I alone will furnish you with the Four Requisites.” And having given him this invitation, he departed.

The monks were offended and said, “Behold the wicked deed of that wicked king! When we asked him to drive that monk out of the monastery, he came and invited him to receive the Four Requisites from him, and then went away again.” And they said to that Elder, “Oh, you corrupt monk, now you have become the king’s bastard!” Thereupon that monk, who formerly had not dared to say a thing to the other monks, said also to them, “You are corrupt, you are bastards, you consort with women.” The monks went and reported the matter to the Teacher, saying, “Reverend Sir, when we spoke to Kuṇḍadhāna, he said to us, ‘You are corrupt, you are bastards, you consort with women.’ With such words as these did he abuse us.” The Teacher sent for him and asked him, “Monk, is it true, as has been reported to me, that you said thus and so?” “Yes, Reverend Sir, it is all true.” “Why did you do so?” “Because they said things to me.” “Monks, why did you say things to him?” “Because we saw a woman following after him.”

Said the Teacher, “They say they spoke to you because they saw a woman accompanying you wherever you went. But why did you say what you said? [57] They said what they said solely because of what they saw, but why did you say what you said, when you had not seen it? It is surely because of your false views in a previous state of existence that this has happened to you; now why do you take a wrong attitude again?” The monks asked the Teacher, “But, Reverend Sir, what was it that he did in a previous state of existence?” Then the Teacher related to them the Elder’s wicked deed in a previous state of existence, concluding as follows, “Monk, it is because of this wicked deed that you have fallen into this sad plight. Surely it is unbecoming in you again to take so wrong an attitude. Do not again hold converse with the monks. Make no sound, even as a brass plate shattered at the rim makes no sound, for by so doing you will attain Nibbāna.” So saying, he joined the connection, and preaching the Law, pronounced the following Stanzas,

133. Speak not harshly to anyone; those you address may answer you;

For angry words bring trouble; blows for blows may touch you.

134. If you keep yourself silent as a broken gong,

You have already reached Nibbāna; angry speech is not found in you.