Buddhist Legends: Books 1–26

Part 6. Death of Sāmāvatī and of Māgandiyā, and the explanation thereof: Treasurers, monks, and tree-spirit

Now at this time there were living in Kosambi three treasurers, Ghosaka, Kukkuṭa, and Pāvāriya. As the beginning of the rainy season drew near, these men saw five hundred ascetics who had returned from the Himalaya country going the round of the city for alms. With joyful hearts they provided them with seats, offered them food, and obtaining from them a promise to reside with them, they provided them with lodging in their own homes during the four months of the rains. Then, having obtained from them a promise to return and spend the following rainy season with them, they let them go. From that time forth, after the ascetics had resided for eight months in the Himalaya country, they kept residence during the four months of the rains with the three treasurers.

On a later occasion, as the ascetics were on their way back from the Himalaya country, they saw a certain great banyan-tree in a forest retreat and went and sat down at the foot of it. The oldest ascetic thought to himself, “The deity who resides in this tree cannot be mundane. There must be a deva-king of great power here. [204] How good it would be if he would give this band of ascetics water to drink!” Immediately the tree-spirit gave them water to drink. Then the ascetic thought of water to bathe in, and the spirit gave that also. Then he thought of food, and the spirit gave that also.

Then this thought occurred to the ascetic, “This deva-king gives us every single thing we think of. I wish we might see him.” Immediately the spirit burst the trunk of the tree and showed himself. Thereupon they asked him, “Deva-king, you possess great power. What did you do to get it?” “Do not ask me, Reverend Sirs.” “Deva-king, please tell us.” But the spirit was exceedingly modest, for the reason that the work of merit he had performed was a very small one, and therefore he did not wish to tell. However, after a good deal of urging, he said, “Well then, listen,” and told the following

Story of the Past: Tree-spirit’s former deed

The tree-spirit, it appears, was once a poor man who sought and obtained work for hire from Anāthapiṇḍika and through him made a living. Now one fast-day Anāthapiṇḍika asked on his return from the monastery, “Has anyone told this laborer that to-day is fast-day?” “He has not been told, master.” “Well then, cook him his supper.” So they cooked him a measure of rice. Now the laborer had worked all day in the forest, and when he returned in the evening, he said, “I am hungry.” But when the rice had been prepared and given to him, all of a sudden he refused to eat. “On other days,” he thought to himself, “there is a great uproar in this house, ‘Give me rice, give me sauce, give me curry;’ but to-day all have lain down without making a sound, and they have prepared food for me alone. What can this mean?”

So he asked them, “Have the rest eaten?” “They have not eaten.” “Why?” “In this house people eat no supper on fast-days; [205] all keep the fast. The great treasurer requires all to fast, even infants at the breast, first causing them to rinse their mouths and to eat the four sweet foods. A lamp of scented oil is lighted, and all, both young and old, retire to recite the Thirty-two Constituents of the Body. But we did not think it worth while to tell you it was fast-day, and therefore rice was cooked for you alone. Eat it.” “If it is proper for me to begin the fast now, I should like to do so.” “This is a matter for the treasurer to decide.” “Well then, ask him.” They went and asked the treasurer, and he replied as follows, “If he begins the fast now and rinses his mouth and takes upon himself the fast-day precepts, he will earn half the merit of keeping fast-day.” When the laborer heard the answer, he began the fast.

Now the laborer had worked all day long and was hungry, and the result was that the humors of his body became disordered. He bound a girth about his body, and holding the end of the girth in his hand, he rolled over and over. When the treasurer learned of this, he took the four sweet foods and with torches borne before him went to the laborer and asked, “Friend, what is the matter?” “Master, the humors of my body are out of order.” “Well then, get up and eat this medicinal food.” “You eat it, master.” “I am not sick. You eat it.” “Master, as for keeping the fast, [206] I was not able to keep it all, but let me not be deprived of half.” With these words the laborer refused to eat. “Do not act thus, friend,” said the treasurer. But the laborer steadfastly refused to eat, and when the sun rose, he died even as a garland of flowers withers, and was reborn in that banyan-tree.

Treasurers, monks, and tree-spirit, concluded.

Therefore the tree-spirit explained the matter as follows, “The treasurer was devoted to the Buddha, devoted to the Law, devoted to the Order; and it was through him, and in consequence of the merit I earned by keeping half of fast-day, that I obtained this power.” When the five hundred ascetics heard the name “Buddha,” they arose and stretched out their hands in an attitude of reverent supplication to the spirit and said, “Say ‘Buddha.’” Three times they caused the spirit to confess his faith by repeating the formula, “I say ‘Buddha.’” Then they breathed forth the solemn utterance, “This is an utterance difficult to obtain in this world,” and said in conclusion, “Spirit, you have permitted us to hear a sound we have not heard for many hundred thousand cycles of time.”

Then the pupils addressed their teacher as follows, “Well then, let us go to the Teacher.” “Friends, we have three treasurers who are generous benefactors of ours. To-morrow we will receive food in their residence, tell them also what we have heard, and go. Give your consent, friends.” Thereupon they gave their consent. On the following day the treasurers caused rice-porridge to be prepared and seats to be provided. And knowing that the ascetics would arrive on that day, they went forth and met them, escorted them to their residence, provided them with seats, and gave them food. When the ascetics had finished their meal, they said, “Great treasurers, we are going away.” “Reverend Sirs, [207] did we not obtain from you a promise to reside with us during the four months of the rains? Where are you going now?”

“The Buddha has appeared in the world, the Law has appeared, the Order has appeared. We are therefore going to see the Teacher.” “But is it proper for you only to go to the Teacher?” “It is not forbidden to others also, friends.” “Well then. Reverend Sirs, you wait, and we also will go as soon as we have made preparations.” “If you wait to make preparations, we shall be delayed. Therefore we will go on ahead, and you may follow after.” So they went on ahead, and seeing the Supremely Enlightened One, praised him, paid obeisance to him, and sat down respectfully on one side. Then the Teacher preached the Law to them in orderly sequence, and at the conclusion of his discourse all of them attained Arahatship, together with the Supernatural Faculties. Thereupon they asked to be received into the Order. “Come, monks!” said the Teacher. As soon as he spoke the word, they became full-fledged monks, possessed of bowls and robes created by magic.

Those three treasurers procured the requisites for alms, consisting of garments, coverlets, ghee, honey, molasses, and so forth, and conveying five hundred cartloads apiece, proceeded to Sāvatthi. On reaching Sāvatthi, they paid obeisance to the Teacher, listened to a discourse on the Law, and at the conclusion of the discourse were established in the Fruit of Conversion. For a fortnight they resided with the Teacher, bestowing alms, and then invited the Teacher to come to Kosambi. As the Teacher gave his promise, [208] he said, “The Tathāgatas delight in solitude.” Said the treasurers, “Reverend Sir, as soon as we notify you by sending you a message, it will be proper for you to come.” With these words they returned to Kosambi. The treasurer Ghosaka erected Ghosita monastery, the treasurer Kukkuṭa erected Kukkuṭa monastery, and the treasurer Pāvāriya erected Pāvāriya monastery.

When the treasurers had erected these three monasteries, they sent word to the Teacher to come and visit them. The Teacher, receiving their message, went there; whereupon they came forth to meet him, escorted him to the monasteries, and waited upon him by turns. The Teacher resided one day in each monastery and always went to receive alms at the door of the house of the particular treasurer in whose monastery he resided. Now these three treasurers had a servitor named Sumana, and he was a gardener. He said to the treasurers, “I have been a servitor of yours for a long time, and I should like to entertain the Teacher. Let me have the Teacher all to myself for just one day.” “Well then,” said they, “entertain him to-morrow.” “Very well, masters,” he replied, invited the Teacher, and made ready the usual honors.

Conversion of Sāmāvatī by Khujjuttarā

Now at that time King Udena was in the habit of giving Queen Sāmāvatī eight pieces of money every day to buy flowers with. A female slave of the queen named Khujjuttarā went regularly every day to the gardener Sumana and procured the flowers. When she came on that particular day, the gardener said to her, “I have invited the Teacher to be my guest and shall use my flowers to-day to honor the Teacher. You just wait, join with me in attendance on the Buddha, and listen to the Law. Then you may take with you the flowers that remain.” [209] “Very well,” said she, consenting to remain. Sumana waited upon the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha and took his bowl that he might pronounce the words of thanksgiving. The Teacher began to pronounce the words of thanksgiving. Khujjuttarā listened to the discourse on the Law and became established in the Fruit of Conversion.

On previous days she had been in the habit of appropriating to her own use four pieces of money and of buying flowers with the other four; but on that day, spending all eight to buy flowers with, she returned with them. Sāmāvatī said to her, “My good woman, did the king give us twice as much money to-day to buy flowers with?” “No, my lady.” “Then why so many flowers?” “On previous days I kept four pieces of money for myself and brought you only so many flowers as I could buy for four pieces of money.” “Why didn’t you take the money to-day?” “Because I heard the Supremely Enlightened discourse on the Law and acquired understanding of the Law.”

The queen did not revile her and say, “You wretched slave, give me back the pieces of money you have stolen during all this time.” Instead she said to her, “My good woman, you have drunk the Deathless. Give me thereof to drink also.” “Well then,” replied Khujjuttarā, “order that a bath be prepared for me.” So the queen had her bathed with sixteen bowls of scented water and presented her with garments of fine cloth. One of these garments she caused her to put on as an undergarment, the other she caused to be thrown over her shoulder; then she had a seat prepared for her. Khujjuttarā thereupon sat down, took in her hand a painted fan, and addressing the five hundred women, preached the Law to them just as the Teacher had preached it. Then all of them paid obeisance to Khujjuttarā [210] and said, “Friend, from this day forth do no sinful deed, but be to us as a mother and a teacher. Go to the Teacher and listen to every discourse he preaches, and then come back and repeat it to us.” And this she did so faithfully that later on she came to know the Tipitaka by heart. Indeed the Teacher assigned her preeminence, saying, “Preeminent among my female lay disciples who are learned in the Scriptures and able to expound the Law is Khujjuttarā.”

Now those five hundred women said to her, “Woman, we should like to see the Teacher. Show him to us, that we may honor him with perfumes, garlands, and so forth.” “My lady, it is a serious matter to live in a king’s house. You have obtained access to it, but it is impossible for you to leave it.” “Woman, do not destroy us. Let us see the Teacher.” “Well then, make holes in the walls of your rooms large enough to look through. Then bring perfumes and garlands, and when the Teacher goes to the door of the house of the three treasurers, stand in your several places and look out and stretch forth your hands and pay obeisance to him and honor him.” They followed her directions, and when the Teacher went and returned, they looked out and paid obeisance to him and honored him.

Māgandiyā’s plot against Sāmāvatī and the Buddha

Now one day Māgandiyā came forth from her own mansion and walked along until she came to the place where those women lived. Seeing a hole in a room, she asked, “What is this?” The women, not knowing of the hatred she had conceived towards the Teacher, said, [211] “The Teacher has come to this city, and we stand here and look at the Teacher and honor him.” “So the hermit Gotama has come to this city!” thought Māgandiyā. “Now I shall know what ought to be done to him. These women also are his supporters. I shall know what ought to be done to them also.” So she said to the king, “Great king, Sāmāvatī and her followers are disloyal to you and in but a few days will take your life.” The king replied, “They will do nothing of the sort,” and refused to believe the charge. Even when the charge was repeated, he still refused to believe. When she made the charge the third time and he still refused to believe, she said to him, “If you do not believe me, great king, go to the place where they reside and judge for yourself.” The king went there, and seeing the holes in the walls of the rooms, asked, “What does this mean?” When the matter was explained to him, he did not get angry, said not a word, but had the holes filled up and windows made with openings above in all the rooms. (Windows with openings above came in at this time, we are told.)

Unable to injure the women, Māgandiyā thought to herself, “At any rate I will do to the monk Gotama what ought to be done.” So she bribed the citizens and said to them, “When the monk Gotama comes into the city and walks about, instigate slaves to revile him and abuse him and drive him out of the city.” So heretics who did not believe in the Three Jewels followed the Teacher about when he entered the city and shouted at him, “You are a thief, [212] a simpleton, a fool, a camel, an ox, an ass, a denizen of hell, a beast, you have no hope of salvation, a state of punishment is all that you can look forward to.” Thus they reviled and abused him with the Ten Terms of Abuse.

Venerable Ānanda heard this and said to the Teacher, “Reverend Sir, these citizens are reviling and abusing us. Let us go elsewhere.” “Where shall we go, Ānanda?” “To some other city, Reverend Sir.” “If men revile us there, where shall we go then, Ānanda?” “To yet another city, Reverend Sir.” “If men revile us there, where shall we go then?” “To still another city, Reverend Sir.” “Ānanda, one should not speak thus. Where a difficulty arises, right there should it be settled. Only under those circumstances is it permissible to go elsewhere. But who are reviling you, Ānanda?” “Reverend Sir, everyone is reviling us, slaves and all.” “Ānanda, I am like an elephant that has entered the fray. Even as it is the duty of an elephant that has entered the fray to withstand the arrows which come from the four quarters, precisely so it is my duty to endure with patience the words spoken by many wicked men.” So saying, he preached the Law with reference to himself by pronouncing the following three Stanzas in the Naga Vagga,

320. Even as an elephant engaged in the fray withstands arrows shot from the bow.

So also must I bear abuse, for the multitude is wicked. [213]

321. It is a tamed elephant they lead to battle; it is a tamed elephant the king mounts;

It is the tamed that is best among men, he that endures abuse patiently.

322. Of surpassing excellence are mules which are tamed, and well-bred Sindh horses,

And great elephants of the jungle; but better yet is the man who has tamed himself.

This discourse benefited the assembled multitude. When the Teacher had thus preached the Law, he said, “Ānanda, be not disturbed. These men will revile you for only seven days, and on the eighth day they will become silent. A difficulty encountered by the Buddhas lasts no longer than seven days.”

When Māgandiyā had failed in her attempt to drive the Teacher out of the city by abusing him, she thought to herself, “Pray what can I do now?” Then the thought occurred to her, “These women are his supporters. I will destroy them.” Accordingly one day, while King Udena was drinking strong drink and she was waiting upon him, she sent the following message to her uncle, “Let my uncle come with eight dead cocks and eight live cocks. Having arrived, let him stand at the top of the stairs and announce his arrival. When he hears the word ‘Enter,’ let him not enter, but send in first the eight live cocks and afterwards the others.” And she gave a bribe to the page, saying, “Be sure to carry out my orders.”

Māgandiya came and announced himself to the king. When, however, he heard the word “Enter,” he said, “I will not enter the king’s drinking-place.” [214] Māgandiyā then sent her page, saying, “Boy, go to my uncle.” He went, took the eight live cocks which Māgandiyā gave him, carried them to the king, and said, “Your majesty, the house-priest has sent you a present.” “A most excellent and dainty morsel!” said the king. “Now who will cook them?” Māgandiyā said, “Great king, the five hundred women led by Sāmāvatī have nothing to do. Send the cocks to them. Let them cook them and carry them to you.” Accordingly the king sent them, saying to the page, “Go give these cocks to these women. Tell them not to intrust them to the hands of anyone else, but to kill them and cook them themselves.” “Very well, your majesty,” replied the page, and went and delivered the message. But the women refused to do the king’s bidding, saying, “We do not take the life of any living creature.” The page returned and so informed the king.

Māgandiyā said, “You see, great king? Now you shall find out whether or not they really take the life of living creatures. Your majesty, send word to them, ’ Cook them and send them to the monk Gotama.’” So the king sent this message to them. But the page, while pretending to carry the live cocks to the women, in reality went and gave those cocks to the house-priest and carried the eight dead cocks to the women, saying, “Cook these cocks and send them to the Teacher.” “This, to be sure, is our duty,” said the women in reply, and going to meet him, they received the cocks. When the page returned to the king and the latter asked him, “What was the result, boy?” he gave the king the following report, “The moment I said to them, “Cook these cocks and send them to the hermit Gotama,’ they came to meet me and accepted them.” “See, great king,” said Māgandiyā, “they will not do it for the like of you. But you would not believe me when I said to you, ‘Their inclination is towards another.’” But even when the king heard this, [215] he tolerated their conduct and remained silent. Māgandiyā thought to herself, “What shall I do now?”

Now at this time the king was accustomed to divide his time equally among his three consorts, Sāmāvatī, Vāsuladattā, and Māgandiyā, spending seven days by turns in the apartment of each. Māgandiyā, knowing that he would go on the morrow or on the day after to the apartment of Sāmāvatī, sent word to her uncle, “Send me a snake, first washing its fangs with a poisonous drug.” He did as she told him to and sent her a snake. Now wherever the king went, he was accustomed to take with him his lute for charming elephants, and in the shell of this lute was a hole. Māgandiyā inserted the snake in the hole and stopped the hole with a bunch of flowers; for two or three days the snake remained within the lute.

On the day when the king was to go to Sāmāvatī’s apartment, Māgandiyā asked him, “To whose apartment will you go to-day, your majesty?” “To Sāmāvatī’s apartment.” Said Māgandiyā, “Your majesty, to-day I had a bad dream; you must not go there.” “I am going all the same.” Three times she tried to dissuade him from going and failed. Finally she said, “In that case I will go too.” In spite of the king’s protests she went with him, saying, “Your majesty, I do not know what will happen to you.”

The king, wearing garments, flowers, perfumes, and ornaments given him by Sāmāvatī and her followers, ate heartily, and then placed his lute by his pillow and lay down on the bed. Māgandiyā, pretending to be merely walking back and forth, removed the bunch of flowers from the opening in the lute; whereupon the snake, which had been without food for two or three days, glided from the opening, hissed, raised his hood, and coiled himself up on the top of the bed. [216] When Māgandiyā saw the snake, she screamed with a loud voice, “Oh, your majesty, there is a snake!” And she straightway abused the king, saying, “This stupid, unlucky king will not listen to anything I say to him. As for these shameless scoundrels, what do they not receive from the king? You will live happily just as soon as the king is dead, but so long as he lives, you will have a hard time. Your majesty, when I cried out to you, ‘To-day I had a bad dream; you must not go to Sāmāvatī’s apartment’ you would not listen to what I said.”

When the king saw the snake, he was terrified with the fear of death, the fire of anger was kindled within him, and he said, “So this is the sort of thing they are capable of doing! What criminals they are! Yet I would not believe Māgandiyā when she told me of their evil nature. First they made holes in the walls of their own rooms and sat there; again, when I sent the cocks to them, they sent them back; to-day they have let a snake loose in my bed.”

Sāmāvatī delivered the following admonition to her five hundred women, “Friends, we have no other refuge. Cherish precisely the same feelings towards the king and the queen as you do towards yourselves. Be not angry with anyone.” The king took his horn-bow, which required a thousand men to string, twanged the bowstring, fitted a poisoned arrow to the string, and placing Sāmāvatī in front [217] and all the other women in single file behind her, shot an arrow at Sāmāvatī’s breast. But through the supernatural power of her love the arrow turned back, and returning by the same path it had come, penetrated, as it were, the king’s heart.

The king thought to himself, “The arrow I shot is capable of piercing even a rock, and there was nothing in the air to make it turn back. But it turned and came back by the same path it went. Indeed this senseless, lifeless arrow knows her goodness, but I, who am a human being, know it not.” And throwing the bow away and stretching forth his hands in an attitude of reverent supplication, he knelt before Sāmāvatī’s feet and pronounced the following Stanza,

I am utterly confused and bewildered; all four quarters are confused in my mind.

Protect me, Sāmāvatī, and be a refuge to me.

Sāmāvatī, hearing his words, instead of saying, “Very well, your majesty, seek refuge in me,” said, “Great king, in whom I have sought refuge, in him do you also seek refuge.”

Having thus spoken, Sāmāvatī, disciple of the Supremely Enlightened, said,

Do not seek refuge in me! He in whom I have sought refuge,—

He is the Buddha, great king, he is the Buddha Incomparable!

Seek refuge in that Buddha, and do you be a refuge to me. [218]

The king said, “Now I am the more afraid,” and pronounced the following Stanza,

Now I am the more confused; all four quarters are confused in my mind.

Protect me, Sāmāvatī, and be a refuge to me.

But she refused him precisely as before. Finally he said, “Well then, I seek refuge in you and in the Teacher, and I grant you a boon.” “I accept the boon, great king,” she replied.

The king approached the Teacher, sought refuge in him, invited him to accept his hospitality, and for seven days gave generous alms. Then, addressing Sāmāvatī, he said, “Rise and take your choice.” Sāmāvatī replied, “Great king, I have no need of gold and silver, but grant me this boon. Arrange matters so that the Teacher may come here regularly with his five hundred monks, so that I may hear the Law.” So the king paid obeisance to the Teacher and said, “Reverend Sir, come here regularly with your five hundred monks. Sāmāvatī and her attendants say they wish to hear the Law.” The Teacher replied, “Great king, the Buddhas may not always go to one place; many desire their presence.” “Well then, direct one monk to come.” The Teacher directed Ānanda to go. So Ānanda went every day to the royal palace with five hundred monks, and those women every day provided the Elder with food and listened to the Law.

One day, after they had listened to the Elder’s discourse on the Law, their hearts were filled with joy, and they rendered honor to the Elder by presenting him with five hundred yellow robes such as are worn over the shoulders, [219] each worth five hundred pieces of money. When the king saw that they had not a single garment left, he asked them, “Where are your yellow robes?” “We gave them to the Reverend Elder.” “Did he take them all?” “Yes, he took them all.” The king approached the Elder, paid obeisance to him, questioned him about the gift of the robes by the women, and learning that the women had given the robes and that the Elder had received them, asked, “Reverend Sir, there were a great many robes, were there not? What will you do with so many?” “I shall keep as many as we require for ourselves and send the rest to those whose robes are worn out, great king.” “What will they do with their own worn-out robes?” “They will give them to those whose robes are in a still worse state of repair.” “What will they do with their own worn-out robes?” “They will make bedspreads of them.” “What will they do with the old bedspreads?” “They will make carpets of them.” “What will they do with the old carpets?” “They will make foot-towels of them.” “What will they do with the old foot-towels?” “They will cut them into small pieces, mix them with mortar, and use them to plaster walls with.”

“Reverend Sir, although all these are given to your reverences, nothing is lost.” “Quite so, great king.” The king was so pleased that he caused five hundred more robes to be brought and placed at the Elder’s feet.

(We are told that robes worth five hundred pieces of money [220] were presented to the Elder and laid at his feet in lots of a thousand, and that he received this number a hundred thousand times; that robes worth a thousand pieces of money were presented to the Elder and laid at his feet in lots of a thousand, and that he received this number a thousand times; that robes worth a hundred thousand pieces of money were presented to the Elder and laid at his feet in lots of a thousand, and that he received this number a hundred times. It is impossible to enumerate the number of robes he received by ones and twos and threes and fours and fives and tens. We are told that, upon the death of the Teacher, the Elder traveled all over the Land of the Rose-apple, presenting to the monks in all of the monasteries bowls and robes of his own.)

Burning of Sāmāvatī and punishment of Māgandiyā

Māgandiyā thought to herself, “Whatever I do turns out otherwise than I expect. What shall I do now?” Finally she decided on a plan. On her way to the garden to amuse herself, she sent the following message to her uncle, “Go to Sāmāvatī’s palace, open the linen-closets and the oil-closets, soak pieces of cloth in the jars of oil, and wrap these cloths about the pillars. Then assemble all the women within the house, close the door, bar it from without, set fire to the house with torches, and then descend and go your way.”

Māgandiya went up into the palace, [221] opened the closets, soaked garments in the oil-jars, and was just beginning to wrap them about the pillars when the women led by Sāmāvatī came up to him and said, “Why are you doing this, uncle?” “My ladies, the king desires these pillars to be strengthened, and has therefore given orders that they be wrapped in cloths soaked in oil. It is hard to understand why certain things should be done in a king’s house and certain other things should not be done. I beg of you, my ladies, not to remain here with me.” As soon as they had departed and entered their rooms at his suggestion, he closed the doors, barred them from without, set fire to first one cloth and then another, and descended.

Sāmāvatī delivered the following admonition to her followers, “It would not be an easy matter, even with the knowledge of a Buddha, to determine exactly the number of times our bodies have thus been burned with fire as we have passed from birth to rebirth in the round of existences which has no conceivable beginning. Therefore be heedful.” As the fire consumed the house, the women applied themselves to meditation on the element of pain, with the result that some of them attained the Fruit of the Second Path, while others attained the Fruit of the Third Path. Therefore it is said [Udana, vii. 10],

Now a large number of monks, returning from their alms-pilgrimage after breakfast, drew near to where the Exalted One was, and having drawn near, paid obeisance to the Exalted One and sat down reverently on one side. And as they sat there on one side, those monks said this to the Exalted One, “Here, Reverend Sir, while King Udena was in his pleasure-garden, the quarters of his women were consumed with fire, and five hundred women led by Sāmāvatī lost their lives. Reverend Sir, what will be the end, what will be the future state of these female lay disciples?”

“Monks, some of these female lay disciples [222] obtained the Fruit of Conversion, others obtained the Fruit of the Second Path, others obtained the Fruit of the Third Path. Monks, none of those female lay disciples failed to receive the fruit of their past deeds.” And the Exalted One, clearly understanding the matter, breathed forth at that time the following Solemn Utterance,

Bound with the bond of delusion, the world appears to be good.

The simpleton, fettered by the conditions of being, enshrouded by darkness,

Thinks it eternal. But to him who really sees, there is naught.

So saying, he preached the Law, saying, “Monks, as living beings pass through the round of existences, they are not always heedful, and sometimes they commit sin. Therefore as they pass through the round of existences, they experience both pleasure and pain.”

When the king heard the cry, “Sāmāvatī’s house is on fire!” he went there quickly, but the house was burned before he could reach it. “Having extinguished the flames, he sat down surrounded by his retinue of courtiers, overwhelmed with profound grief, and recalled to his mind the virtues of Sāmāvatī. “Who could have done this deed?” thought he. Coming to the conclusion that Māgandiyā was the author of the crime, he thought to himself, “If I frighten her by my questions, she will not tell me. Therefore I will employ craft and question her gently.” [223]

Accordingly he said to his ministers, “Well, until this moment, no matter what I was engaged in or occupied with, I was apprehensive and suspicious; Sāmāvatī was ever seeking occasion to slay me. But now my mind will rest in peace, and I shall be able to lie down to sleep in security.” “Who was it that did this deed, your majesty?” “Someone who really loved me must have done it.” Now Māgandiyā happened to be standing near, and when she heard the king say this, she said, “None other than I could have done this. I alone did it. I sent word to my uncle and ordered him to do it.” “Except you, there is not a living being who really loves me. I am delighted. I grant you a boon. Send for all of your relatives.”

So Māgandiyā sent the following message to her relatives, “The king is pleased with me and has granted me a boon. Come immediately.” The king rendered high honor to all those who came, insomuch that even persons who were in no way related to Māgandiyā, hearing about it, gave bribes and came and said, “We are relatives of Māgandiyā.” When the king had them all in his hands, he caused pits to be dug waist-deep in the palace-court, set them therein, filled up the pits with earth, spread straw on top, and set the straw on fire. When the skin had been burned to a crisp, he caused the bodies to be plowed with an iron plow [224] and to be broken up into pieces and fragments. As for Māgandiyā, he had pieces of solid flesh ripped from various parts of her body with a sharp knife, and setting a vessel of oil on the brazier, he had them fried like cakes and made her eat them.

In the Hall of Truth the monks began to discuss matters, saying, “It is not right that a female lay disciple endowed with such faith should suffer such a death.” The Teacher came in and asked them, “Monks, what is it you are sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, he said, “Monks, if you regard this existence alone, it is indeed highly improper and unjust that the five hundred women led by Sāmāvatī should suffer such a death. What they received, however, was in every way proper, considering the sin they committed in a previous existence.” “Reverend Sir, what was the sin they committed in a previous existence? Pray tell us.” Responding to their request, the Teacher related the following

Story of the Past: Sāmāvatī’s attempt to burn a Private Buddha

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta reigned in Benāres, there were eight Private Buddhas who regularly took their meals in the royal palace, and there were five hundred women who waited upon them. Seven of these Private Buddhas retired to the Himalaya, and the Private Buddha who remained sat down on the bank of the river where there was a tangle of grass, and entered into mystic meditation.

Now one day, after the Private Buddhas had departed, the king took those women [225] and went to sport in the water. When those women, who had sported there in the water all day, came out, they were stung with cold. Desiring to warm themselves, they said to each other, “Seek out some place where we can build a fire.” As they walked back and forth, they saw the tangle of grass, and thinking it was no more than a heap of grass, they gathered round it and set it on fire. When the grass burned down and they saw the Private Buddha, they cried out, “We are lost! we are lost! The king’s Private Buddha is burning up. If the king finds it out, he will kill everyone of us. Let us burn him well while we are about it.” So all those women brought firewood from all directions and piled it on the Private Buddha until they had erected a great pyre. Then they poured oil on it, and saying to themselves, “Now he will burn,” they departed.

Now in the beginning their act was a thoughtless one, and they were not bound thereby. But afterwards they committed a deliberate sin and were bound to suffer the consequences thereof. While the Private Buddha was absorbed in mystic meditation, they might have brought a hundred thousand cartloads of firewood and poured oil thereon, and they could not even have caused him to feel the heat. So on the seventh day the Private Buddha arose and went where he pleased. Because they committed this sin, those women were boiled for many hundreds of thousands of years in Hell, and because the fruit of that same evil deed was not yet exhausted, their houses were burned, and they were burned in their houses in a hundred successive states of existence in this very manner. This is the sin they committed in a previous state of existence.

When the Teacher had related this story, the monks asked him, “But, Reverend Sir, how did Khujjuttarā come to be a hunchback? How did she become so wise? How did she obtain the Fruit of Conversion? How [226] did she become an errand-girl?”

Story of the Past: Khujjuttarā’s former deeds

Monks, while that same king was ruling in Benāres, there was a Private Buddha who was slightly hunchbacked. Now a certain serving-woman, throwing a blanket over her shoulder and taking a golden vessel in her hand, bent over so that she looked like a hunchback, and saying, “This is the way our Private Buddha walks,” imitated his manner of walking. It was in consequence of this that she came to be a hunchback.

But on the first day she provided those Private Buddhas with seats in the royal palace, took their bowls, filled them with rice-porridge, and presented them to them. The Private Buddhas took the bowls of porridge, but they were so hot that they were obliged to shift them from one hand to the other. That woman, seeing what they were doing, presented to them eight ivory bracelets of her own, saying, “Use these bracelets as stands for your bowls.” When they had so done, they looked at her, whereupon she said, “Reverend Sirs, we have no use for these bracelets. Accept them as a present from us before you go.” The Private Buddhas took them with them to Nandamula mountain-cave, and those bracelets are preserved there unimpaired to this day. As the result of this act of hers, she now knows the Tipitaka by heart and possesses profound wisdom. Likewise it was through waiting upon the Private Buddhas that she obtained the Fruit of Conversion. These were her deeds in the interval between two Buddhas.

In the dispensation of Kassapa, the Supremely Enlightened, a certain treasurer’s daughter of Benāres took her mirror one day, as the shades of evening drew on, and sat down to adorn herself. Now a certain intimate friend of hers, [227] a nun freed from the Depravities, came to see her. For nuns freed from the Depravities like to visit the households of their supporters at eventide. But at that moment the treasurer’s daughter happened to have no errand-girl with her. So she said to the nun, “I greet you, Reverend Lady. Just take that basket of ornaments and give it to me.” The nun thought to herself, “If I do not take this basket and give it to her, she will take a dislike to me and will be reborn in Hell; but if I do give it to her, she will be reborn as the errand-girl of another. However, it is better to be the errand-girl of another than to suffer torment in Hell.” So out of pity for her she took the basket and gave it to her. In consequence of this act she became the errand-girl of another. Stories of the Past concluded.

Again one day in the Hall of Truth the monks started a discussion. “Sāmāvatī and her five hundred women were burned with fire in their house; as for Māgandiyā and her kinswomen, a fire of straw was built over their bodies, and their bodies were torn asunder with iron plows, and Māgandiyā was boiled in boiling oil. Which of these are alive and which are dead?” The Teacher came in and asked, “Monks, what are you sitting here now talking about?” When they told him, he said to them, “Monks, they that are heedless, though they live a hundred years, yet are they dead. They that are heedful, be they dead or alive, yet are they alive. Māgandiyā, while she yet lived, was dead already. Sāmāvatī and her followers, though they be dead, yet are they alive. For, monks, the heedful never die.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanzas, [228]

21. Heedfulness is the Way to the Deathless; heedlessness is the way to death.

The heedful never die, but they that are heedless are, as it were, dead already.

22. Knowing this clearly, they that are advanced in heedfulness

Delight in heedfulness, and rejoice in the state of the Elect.

23. They that devote themselves to meditation, they that are persevering, they that put forth resolute effort.

They, the wise, attain Nibbāna, the highest bliss.

II. 2. THE VOICE OF A RICH MAN

If a man exert himself. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana with reference to Kumbhaghosaka. [231]

For once upon a time the plague broke out at Rājagaha in the house of the principal treasurer of Rājagaha. When the plague breaks out, animals, from flies to cattle, are the first to die; after them, slaves; after them, the master and mistress of a household. So this disease attacked last of all the treasurer and his wife. As soon as they felt the first touch of the disease, they looked at their son, who stood near, and with eyes filled with tears said to him, “Dear son, as we know, when this disease breaks out, only those who break down the wall and flee succeed in saving their lives. Therefore have no consideration for us, but make your escape. Having thus saved your life, come back again, and in such and such a place you will find buried in the

1 Text: N i. 231-239.

earth forty crores of treasure. Dig up the treasure and live on the money.” [232] When the son heard his parents speak thus, he wept aloud, bade farewell to his mother and father, and terrified with the fear of death, broke down the wall and fled. Seeking refuge in a certain mountain jungle, he dwelt there for twelve years, and then returned.

Now since he was a mere boy when he went away, and when he returned his hair and beard had grown long, no one recognized him. A sign which his mother and father had given him enabled him to find the place where the treasure had been buried, and going there he discovered that the treasure had not been disturbed. But he thought to himself, “No one knows me here, and if I dig up this treasure and begin to spend it, they will say, ‘A treasure has been dug up by a certain poor man,’ and will seize me and subject me to annoyance. Suppose I were to work for hire and thus gain a living.” So he dressed himself in rags and went through the servants’ quarters, inquiring, “Is there anyone who has need of a servant?”

When the servants saw him, they said, “If you will do a certain piece of work for us, we will pay you for it in rice.” “What kind of work is it, friends?’” “To order and direct our work. You will be obliged to get up early in the morning and go the rounds of the workers and give orders to them, saying, ‘Men, get up and bring out the carts and yoke the oxen; it is time for the elephants and horses to go to pasture. Women, you also get up and cook broth and rice.’” “Very well,” said the rich man, accepting the task. So they gave him a house to live in, and he did his work faithfully every day.

Now one day King Bimbisāra, who could recognize anyone by the sound of his voice, heard his voice and straightway said, “That is the voice of some rich man.” A certain female servant who stood near [233] thought to herself, “No matter what the king says, this is something I ought to investigate.” Therefore she sent out a man, saying to him, “Just go and find out who this is.” The messenger straightway went and looked at the man, and on his return made the following report, “That is a poor man who is a servant of servants.” When the king heard his report, he said nothing; but on the second day and on the third day, hearing his voice, said precisely the same thing.

Every time the king made this remark the same thought occurred to that female servant, and again and again she sent a man to investigate. Every time she heard the report, “That is a poor man,” she thought to herself, “Every time the king hears the report, ‘That is a poor man,’ he refuses to believe it, and keeps repeating, ‘That is the voice of some rich man.’ There must be a reason for this, and it is my duty to find out the real facts.” Accordingly she said to the king, “Your majesty, give me a thousand pieces of money, and I will take my daughter and go to this man and bring this treasure to the royal palace.”

The king caused a thousand pieces of money to be given to her. She took the money, caused her daughter to put on a soiled dress, and departed with her from the royal palace. Pretending that she was making a journey, she went to the servants’ quarters, and entering a certain house, said to the mistress, “Woman, we are making a journey and should like to rest here for a day or two before we go on.” “Woman, there are many persons living in this house, and it is out of the question for you to remain here. But Kumbhaghosaka’s house is empty; go there.” So she went there and said to Kumbhaghosaka, “Master, we are making a journey and should like to remain here a day or two.” He refused her request, although she repeated it again and again. Finally she said, “Master, we will remain here to-day, just for one day, and early in the morning will continue our journey.” So saying, she refused to depart.

So she took up her residence there. On the following day, when it was time for Kumbhaghosaka to go to the forest, she said to him, “Master, give me an allowance for food [234] before you go, and I will cook food for you.” “Never mind about that,” replied Kumbhaghosaka; “I will cook food all by myself and eat it.” After she had urged him repeatedly, he gave her the allowance. As soon as she received it, she procured from a shop cooking-vessels and the purest of rice. Preparing the finest of boiled rice in the manner of cooking practiced in the king’s household, and cooking with the greatest care three portions of sauce and curry, she presented the food to Kumbhaghosaka on his return from the forest.

When he had eaten his meal and his senses were dull, she said to him, “Master, we are tired and will remain here for a day or two.” “Very well,” said he, consenting to the arrangement. Likewise in the evening and on the following day she cooked savory food for him and gave it to him. When she perceived that his senses had become dull, she said to him, “Master, we will remain right here for a few days.”

Thus she contrived to establish a residence in his house. One day she took a sharp knife and cut the cords of his mattress underneath at the bed-frame in several places. The result was that, when he returned and lay down on his bed, the mattress sank down. Said he, “How did this bed come to be cut in this fashion?” “Master, I cannot prevent the boys from coming here and jumping on it.” “Woman, it is because of you that I have been subjected to this annoyance. Before you came, whenever I wished to go anywhere, I closed the door and went.” “My friend, what shall I do? I cannot stop them.” On three successive days she cut the mattress of his bed in this way, and when he became irritated and angry and rebuked her, she made the same answer.

Finally she cut all of the cords except one or two. [235] On that day, as soon as he lay down on the bed, the entire mattress fell to the ground, and he was doubled up with his head between his knees. Rising to his feet, he said, “What shall I do? Where shall I go now? I have no longer a bed on which I can lie.” “Dear friend, what can I do? I cannot prevent the boys of the neighborhood from entering. Well, do not worry. Let me think where you might go at this time.” And addressing her daughter, she said to her, “My dear daughter, make room for your brother to lie down.” So her daughter lay down on one side of her bed and said to Kumbhaghosaka, “Master, come lie here.” The mother also said to him, “Dear friend, go lie with your sister.” Accordingly Kumbhaghosaka lay down on the same bed with the girl and that very night did the deed of kind with her. The young girl burst into tears. Her mother asked her, “Dear daughter, why are you weeping?” “Mother, such and such happened.” “Well, what’s to be done about it? You ought to have a husband, and he ought to have a wife.” So she made Kumbhaghosaka her son-in-law, and thereafter Kumbhaghosaka and her daughter lived together.

After a few days she sent a message to the king, saying, “Cause the following proclamation to be made, ‘Let those who dwell in the servants’ quarters make holiday. Whoever does not make holiday in his house shall be visited with such and such punishment.’” The king did so. Kumbhaghosaka’s mother-in-law said to Kumbhaghosaka, “Dear son the king commands those who dwell in the servants’ quarters to make holiday. What shall we do?” “Mother, I can barely get along on the wages I earn. What shall I do?” “Dear son, those who live in a house of their own can borrow money. [236] The king’s command must not be disobeyed, but a debt can be paid off in some way or other. Go somewhere and get one or two pieces of money.”

Kumbhaghosaka, much provoked, went to the spot where his forty crores of treasure were buried, removed but a single piece of money, and returned with it. His mother-in-law sent this piece of money to the king and paid the expenses of the holiday with a piece of money of her own. Again after a few days she sent the same message to the king. Again the king gave orders, “Let them make holiday. Those who do not shall be visited with such and such punishment.” And again Kumbhaghosaka, under compulsion of his mother-in-law, who repeated the same suggestion she had previously made, went to his hidden store, removed three pieces of money, and brought and gave them to her. She sent these three pieces also to the king. After a few days more had passed, she sent yet another message to the king, saying, “Now let the king send some of his men and summon this man into his presence.”

The king’s men came and began a search for their man, inquiring, “Which man is Kumbhaghosaka?” When they saw Kumbhaghosaka, they said to him, “Come, sir, the king summons you.” Kumbhaghosaka was frightened and was unwilling to go, saying, “The king does not know me,” and much else. But the king’s men overpowered him, and seizing him by the hands and feet, dragged him off. When his mother-in-law saw what they were doing, she reviled them, saying, “Rascally villains, you are not fit to lay hands on my son-in-law.” Turning to Kumbhaghosaka, she said, “Go, my dear son; be not afraid. When I see the king, I will have him cut off the hands of those who seized you by the hands and feet.” So saying, she took her daughter, and preceding the king’s men, went to the royal palace. When she arrived at the palace, she changed her garments, adorned herself with all her adornments, and thus arrayed took her stand on one side.

The king’s men came, pulling and dragging Kumbhaghosaka with them. Kumbhaghosaka paid obeisance to the king and took his stand before him. The king said to him, “You are Kumbhaghosaka?” “Yes, your majesty.” “Why do you practice deceit in spending your great wealth?” [237] “Where is my great wealth, your majesty? I make a living by working for hire.” “Do not act thus. Why do you deceive us?” “I am not deceiving you, your majesty. I have no wealth.” Then the king showed him those pieces of money and asked him, “Whose are these pieces of money?” Kumbhaghosaka recognized the coins. Thought he, “Alas, I am lost! How did these pieces of money get into the hands of the king?” Looking about him, he saw those two women, adorned and bejeweled, standing at the door of the room. Thought he, “This is a deep-laid plot. These women must have been suborned by the king.”

Then said the king to him, “Speak, sir. Why do you act thus?” “I have no protector, your majesty.” “There does not exist a protector who is my equal.” “Your majesty, it would be most agreeable to me if your majesty were my protector.” “That am I, sir. How great is your wealth?” “Forty crores, your majesty.” “What shall I send to convey your wealth hither?” “Carts, your majesty.” So the king had several hundred carts yoked, and sent and had Kumbhaghosaka’s wealth brought and heaped up in the palace court. Then he assembled the residents of Rājagaha and asked, “Is there anyone at all in this city that possesses so much wealth as this?” “There is not, your majesty.” “What should be bestowed upon him?” “Honor, your majesty.” So the king bestowed high honor upon him, appointed him to the post of treasurer, and gave him his daughter in marriage.

The king then took Kumbhaghosaka to the Teacher, paid obeisance to the Teacher, and said to him, “Reverend Sir, behold this man. For wisdom the like of- him does not exist. Though he possesses forty crores of treasure, he gives no sign of being unduly elated, nor is he puffed up in his own conceit. As though he were a poor man, [238] he dressed himself in rags and worked for his living in the servants’ quarter. In this way I came to know of him. And coming to know of him, I sent for him, made him admit his wealth, caused his wealth to be carried to the palace, appointed him to the post of treasurer, and gave him my daughter in marriage. So wise a man I never saw before.”

Hearing this, the Teacher said, “If a man lives thus, great king, his life is a righteous life. But the deeds of thieves and other wicked men oppress them even in this world and afford them no happiness in the next. For if a man, when his wealth is exhausted, works for hire, his life is a righteous life. For such a man, exerting the power of his manhood, always mindful, pure in deeds and words and thoughts, circumspect of conduct through wisdom, exercising self-restraint in deeds and words and thoughts, leading a righteous life, never relaxing mindfulness, such a man goes from strength to strength.” So saying, he pronounced the following Stanza,

24. If a man exert himself, if he be ever mindful, if his deeds be pure, if he be circumspect of conduct,

If he control himself, if he live in accordance with the Law, if he be heedful, his glory ever increases.

II. 3. LITTLE WAYMAN

By rousing himself, by heedfulness. This religious instruction was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Veḷuvana with reference to Little Wayman the Elder. [239]

3 a. Birth of Little Wayman

We are told that the daughter of a rich merchant of Rājagaha, upon reaching the age of maturity, was provided by her mother and father with quarters on the topmost floor of a seven-storied palace and guarded with excessive care. 2 But in spite of this, maddened with the madness of youth and lusting for a man, [240] she did the deed of kind with her own slave. Frightened to think that others also might find out about her misconduct, she said to him, “It is out of the question for us to live here any longer. If my mother and father discover my misconduct, they will tear me limb from limb. Let us go live elsewhere.”

So taking a few necessary things they could carry in the hand, they left the house by the principal door. “It matters little,” said they, “where we go, so long as we go and live where others will know nothing about us.” So saying, the two set out together. They took up their residence in a certain place and lived together, with the result that the young wife conceived a child in her womb. When her unborn child reached maturity, she took counsel with her husband, saying, “If I give birth to my child in a place far removed from kith and kin, it will bring suffering to both of us. There is but one place for us to go, and that is home to my parents.” But her husband, fearing that, if he himself went there, he would be killed, kept postponing the day of their departure, saying, “We will go to-day; we will go to-morrow.”

1 Parallels: Jātaka 4: i. 114-120; Divydvaddna, xxxv: 483-515; Rogers, Buddhaghosha’s Parables, vi, pp. 61-71; AnguUara Commentary on Etadagga Vagga, Stories oj Mahd Panthaka and Culla Panthaka. 3 a and 3 b are almost word for word the same as the Introduction to Jātaka 4. 3 c is entirely different from the Story of the Past in the Jātaka. On Divydvaddna, xxxv, see Introduction, § 12, paragraph 1. See also Thera-Gāthā Commentary, ccxxxi and ccxxxvi, and W. A. Clouston, Popular Tales and Fictions, ii, 317-321, together with the note on pp. 491-93. Text: N i. 239-255.

2 Cf. the beginning of Stories viii. 3, viii. 12, and ix. 8.

The young wife thought to herself, “This simpleton realizes the enormity of his offense, and therefore dares not go. After all, a mother and a father are one’s best friends. Let this fellow go or not; at any rate I intend to go.” So while her husband was out of the house, she put the household utensils away, and informing her next-door neighbors that she was going home to her parents, she started out on the road. When her husband returned to the house and failed to see her, he inquired of the neighbors where she had gone. Hearing that she had gone home to her parents, he set out after her as fast as he could and overtook her on the road. And right there she gave birth to her child. “What is it, wife?” asked the husband. [241] “Husband, it is a son.” “What shall we do now?” “That for which we intended to go home to my parents has happened by the way. Why, therefore, should we go there? Let us return to our own home.”

Agreeing that this was the best plan, husband and wife returned to their own home. Since their son had been born by the way, they gave him the name Wayman. In no long time the young wife conceived a second child in her womb. (All is to be related in detail precisely as before.) Since this child also was born by the way, they gave him the name Little Wayman, calling the older son Big Wayman. Taking their two sons, they returned to their own place of residence.

While they were living there. Big Wayman heard other boys speak of their uncles and grandparents. So one day he asked his mother, “Mother, other boys speak of their grandfather and grandmother. Haven’t we any relatives?” “Yes, my son. You have no relatives living here, but you have a grandfather, a rich merchant, living in Rājagaha, and we have many other relatives living there too.” “Why don’t we go there, mother?” The mother evaded telling her son why she did not go there. But the children repeated the question time and again. Finally she said to her husband, [242] “These children weary me excessively. Will my mother and father eat us alive when they see us? Come, why not let the children see the family of their grandparents?” “I should not dare meet them face to face, but I will escort you there.” “Very well; some means must be found by which the children can see the family of their grandparents.”

So mother and father took the children, and arriving at Rājagaha in due course, took up their residence in the hall of a certain woman near the gate of the city. Then the mother of the children sent word to her mother and father that she and her children had arrived. When her parents received this message, they said to each other, “As we have passed through the round of existences, we have not previously had a son or a daughter. But these two have grievously offended against us, and it is out of the question for them to stand in our sight. Let these two take as much money as they need and go and live in some pleasant place. However, let them send the children here.” So the two took the money which was sent to them, and giving their children into the hands of the messengers who came, sent them to their grandparents. Thus it happened that the children were brought up in the home of their grandparents.

Of the two children, Little Wayman was still very young. Big Wayman, however, used to accompany his grandfather to hear the Possessor of the Ten Forces preach the Law. And as the result of his frequent visits to the Teacher, his heart inclined to retirement from the world. Accordingly he said to his grandfather, “If you would give me your permission, I should like to retire from the world.” [243] “What say you, dear grandson? There is no one in the whole world whose retirement from the world would give me so much pleasure as your own. If you are able to do so, by all means retire from the world.”