4. Quail, Crow, Fly, Frog, and Elephants

The biter bit.

Jātaka 357: iii. 174-177.

Hearing that the monks of Kosambi were quarreling, the Exalted One went to them and said: “Enough, monks! No quarreling! No brawling! No contending! No wrangling!” Then he said: “Monks, quarrels, brawls, contentions, wrangles, – all these are unprofitable. For because of a quarrel even a tiny quail brought about the destruction of a noble elephant.”

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was reborn as an elephant. He grew up to be a fine big animal, acquired a retinue of eighty thousand elephants, and becoming the leader of a herd, made his home in the Himālaya region. At that time a tiny female quail laid her eggs in the elephants’ stamping-ground. When the eggs were hatched, the fledglings broke the shells and came out. Before their wings had grown and while they were yet unable to fly, the Great Being came to that spot with his retinue of eighty thousand elephants in search of food.

When the tiny quail saw him, she thought: “This elephant-king will crush my fledglings and kill them. Well, I will ask of him righteous protection for the defense of my little ones.” So folding her wings and standing before him, she uttered the first stanza:

I salute you, elephant of sixty years,
Forest-ranger, glorious leader of a herd;
With my wings I do you homage.
I am weak: do not kill my little ones. [17]

Said the Great Being: “Do not worry, tiny quail; I will protect your little ones.” And he stood over the fledglings, and the eighty thousand elephants passed by. Then he addressed the tiny quail: “Behind us comes a single solitary elephant; he will not obey our command. If you ask him also when he comes, you may obtain safety for your little ones.” So saying, he went his way.

The tiny quail went forth to meet the solitary elephant, did homage to him with her wings, and uttered the second stanza:

I salute you, solitary elephant,
Forest-ranger, pasturing on mountain and on hill;
With my wings I do you homage.
I am weak: do not kill my little ones.

The solitary elephant, hearing her words, uttered the third stanza:

I will kill your little ones, tiny quail.
What can you do to me? You are a weakling.
Even a hundred thousand like you
Could I crush with my left foot.

And so saying, he pulverized her little ones with his foot, washed them away with a torrent of urine, and went his way trumpeting. The tiny quail perched on the branch of a tree and thought: “Just now you go your way trumpeting. In only a few days you will see what I can do! You do not understand that the mind is stronger than the body. Ah, but I will make you understand!” And threatening him, she uttered the fourth stanza:

For not alway does strength avail;
For strength is the destruction of a fool.
Elephant-king, I will do you harm,
You who killed my little ones since I was weak.

Thus spoke the tiny quail. For a few days she ministered to a crow. The crow was pleased and said: “What can I do for you?” Said the tiny quail: “Master, there is only one thing I want done. I expect you to peck out the eyes of that solitary elephant.” “Very well,” assented the crow. The tiny quail then ministered to a green fly. The fly also said: “What can I do for you?” Said the tiny quail: “When this crow has put out the eyes of the solitary elephant, I wish you would drop a nit on them.” “Very well,” assented the fly also. The tiny quail then ministered to a frog. Said the frog: “What can I do?” Said the tiny quail: “When this solitary [18] elephant has gone blind and seeks water to drink, then please squat on the mountain-top and croak; and when he has climbed to the top of the mountain, then please hop down and croak at the bottom. This is all I expect of you.” The frog also, hearing her words, assented, saying, “Very well.”

Now one day the crow pecked out both of the elephant’s eyes, and the fly let a nit drop on them. The elephant, eaten up by maggots, maddened with pain, overcome with thirst, wandered about seeking water to drink. At that moment the frog, squatting on the mountain-top, let out a croak. The elephant thought: “There must be water there;” and climbed the mountain. Then the frog hopped down, and squatting at the bottom, let out a croak. The elephant thought: “There must be water there.” And going to the brink of the precipice, he tumbled and fell to the foot of the mountain, and met destruction.

When the tiny quail realized that he was dead, she cried out: “I have seen the back of my enemy!” And pleased and delighted, she strutted over his shoulders, and passed away according to her deeds.

Behold the quail, the crow, the fly, the frog!
They slew the elephant! Behold the hatred of the haters!

5. Quails and Fowler

In union there is strength.

Jātaka 33: i. 208-210.

Then said the Exalted One to those monks: “Monks, be united; do not wrangle. For because of a wrangle many thousand quails lost their lives.”

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was reborn as a quail, and lived in the forest with a retinue of many thousand quails. At that time a certain quail-hunter used to go to the haunt of the quails and attract them by imitating a quail’s whistle. When he perceived that they had assembled, he would throw a net over them and huddle them all together by trampling the edges. Then he would fill his basket, go home, and sell them. Thus he made his living.

Now one day the Future Buddha said to those quails: “This [19] fowler is bringing our kinsfolk to destruction. I know a way by which he shall not be able to catch us. From this time on, the moment he throws the net over you, let each quail stick his head through a single mesh, lift the net, and carrying it wherever you will, let it down on some thorn-brake. This done, we can escape each through his own mesh.” They all assented, saying, “Very well!”

When the net was thrown over them on the following day, they raised the net precisely as the Future Buddha had told them to, dropped it on a certain thorn-brake, and themselves escaped from under. Twilight came on with the fowler still busy disentangling the net from the brake, and he went away absolutely empty-handed. On the next day, and thereafter also, the quails did the very same thing. The fowler also, busy every moment until sunset disentangling the net, got nothing, and went home absolutely empty-handed.

Now his wife got angry and said: “Day after day you return empty-handed; I suppose there is some other household outside you have to provide for too.” Said the fowler: “My dear, there is no other household I have to provide for. The fact is, these quails are acting in unison. The moment I throw the net, they depart with it and drop it on a thorn-brake. But they will not live in unity forever. Do not worry. When they fall to wrangling, I will return with them all and bring a smile to your lips.” And he recited the following stanza to his wife:

United, the birds go away with the net;
But when they fall out, they’ll come into my power.

Now after only a few days had passed, one quail, lighting on the feeding-ground, accidentally trod on the head of another. The other was offended and said: “Who trod on my head?” “I did, but accidentally; do not be offended.” But the other was offended just the same. They bandied words and wrangled with each other, saying, “You alone, I suppose, lift the net!”

While they wrangled, the Future Buddha thought: “There is no safety for a wrangler. From this moment they will not lift the net. Then they will come to a sorry end. The fowler will get his chance. It is impossible for me to live in this place.” And he went elsewhere with his own retinue. [20]

As for the fowler, he came back after a few days, imitated a quail’s whistle, and when the quails had assembled, threw the net over them. Then said one quail: “They say that in the very act of lifting the net, you lost the down on your head. Now lift!” Said another: “They say that in the very act of lifting the net, you lost your wing-feathers. Now lift!”

Even as they said: “You lift!” “You lift!” the fowler tossed the net. And huddling them all together, he filled his basket, and went home and brought a smile to the lips of his wife.

And for the second time the Exalted One said this to those monks: “Enough, monks! No quarreling! No brawling! No contending! No wrangling!”

But in spite of this, they paid no attention to his words. Thereupon the Exalted One related the following Story of the Past:

6. Brahmadatta, Dīghīti, and Dīghāvu

Love your enemies.

Vinaya i. 342-349.

In olden times at Benāres, Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was rich, possessed of great wealth, ample means of enjoyment, a mighty army, many vehicles, an extensive kingdom, and well filled treasuries and storehouses. Dīghīti king of Kosala was poor, possessed of meagre wealth, scanty means of enjoyment, a small army, few vehicles, a little kingdom, and unfilled treasuries and storehouses. Now Brahmadatta king of Kāsi drew up his fourfold army and went up against Dīghīti king of Kosala. And Dīghīti king of Kosala heard: “Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, they say, has drawn up his fourfold army, and is come up against me.” Then to Dīghīti king of Kosala occurred the following thought: “Brahmadatta king of Kāsi is rich, possessed of great wealth, ample means of enjoyment, a mighty army, many vehicles, an extensive kingdom, and well filled treasuries and storehouses. But I am poor, possessed of meagre wealth, scanty means of enjoyment, a small army, few vehicles, a little kingdom, and unfilled treasuries and storehouses. I am not strong enough to withstand even a single clash with Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. Suppose I were merely to counter-march and slip out of the city!” [21]

Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala took his consort, merely countermarched, and slipped out of the city. Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi conquered the army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses of Dīghīti king of Kosala, and took possession. And Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort set out for Benāres, and in due course arrived at Benāres. And there, in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, Dīghīti king of Kosala resided with his consort, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic.

Now in no very long time the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala became pregnant. And this was her craving: She desired at sunrise to see a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords. Accordingly the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala said this to Dīghīti king of Kosala: “I am pregnant, O king. And this craving has arisen within me: I desire at sunrise to see a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords.” “Whence are we, wretched folk, to obtain a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and the rinsings of swords?” “If, king, I do not obtain my desire, I shall die.”

Now at that time the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was a friend of Dīghīti king of Kosala. Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala approached the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Sir, your female friend is pregnant. And this craving has arisen within her: She desires at sunrise to see a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords.” “Very well, O king, we also will see the queen.”

Now the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala approached the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. The Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi saw the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala approaching even from afar. And seeing her, he rose from his seat, adjusted his upper robe so as to cover one shoulder only, and bending his joined hands in reverent salutation before the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala, thrice breathed forth the utterance: “All hail! [22]

A king of Kosala dwells in thy womb! All hail! A king of Kosala dwells in thy womb!” Then he said: “Be not distressed, O queen. You shall obtain your desire to see at sunrise a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords.”

Thereupon the Brahman who was the house-priest of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi approached Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Thus, O king, the signs appear: To-morrow at sunrise let the fourfold army be drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and let the swords be washed.” Accordingly Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Do as the Brahman who is my house-priest has said.” Thus the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala obtained her desire to see at sunrise a fourfold army drawn up, clad in armor, standing in a pleasant place, and to drink the rinsings of swords. And when that unborn child had reached maturity, the consort of Dīghīti king of Kosala brought forth a son, and they called his name Dīghāvu. And in no very long time Prince Dīghāvu reached the age of reason.

Now to Dīghīti king of Kosala occurred the following thought: “This Brahmadatta king of Kāsi has done us much injury. He has robbed us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. If he recognizes us, he will cause all three of us to be put to death. Suppose I were to cause Prince Dīghāvu to dwell outside of the city!” Accordingly Dīghīti king of Kosala caused Prince Dīghāvu to dwell outside of the city. And Prince Dīghāvu, residing outside of the city, in no very long time acquired all the arts and crafts.

Now at that time the barber of Dīghīti king of Kosala resided at the court of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. The barber of Dīghīti king of Kosala saw Dīghīti king of Kosala residing with his consort in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic. When he saw him, he approached Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having approached, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “O king, Dīghīti king of Kosala is residing with his consort in a certain place on the outskirts of Benāres, in a potter’s dwelling, in disguise, in the guise of a wandering ascetic.”

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Now [23] then, bring Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort before me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command brought Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort before him. Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi ordered his men: “Now then, take Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort, bind their arms tight behind their backs with a stout rope, shave their heads, and to the loud beating of a drum lead them about from street to street, from crossing to crossing, conduct them out of the South gate, hack their bodies into four pieces south of the city, and throw the pieces in the four directions.”

“Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command took Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort, bound their arms tight behind their backs with a stout rope, shaved their heads, and to the loud beating of a drum led them about from street to street, from crossing to crossing.

Now to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “It is a long time since I have seen my mother and father. Suppose I were to see my mother and father!” Accordingly Prince Dīghāvu entered Benāres, and saw his mother and father, their arms bound tight behind their backs, their heads shaven, being led about, to the loud beating of a drum, from street to street, from crossing to crossing. When he saw this, he approached his mother and father.

Dīghīti king of Kosala saw Prince Dīghāvu approaching even from afar. When he saw him, he said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.”

At these words those men said this to Dīghīti king of Kosala: “This Dīghīti king of Kosala is stark mad, and talks gibberish. Who is Dīghāvu to him? To whom did he speak thus: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love’?” “I am not stark mad, I assure you, nor do I talk gibberish. However, he that is intelligent will understand clearly.” For the second and the third time Dīghīti [24] king of Kosala spoke thus to Prince Dīghāvu, and those men spoke thus to Dīghīti king of Kosala.

Then those men led Dīghīti king of Kosala with his consort about from street to street, from crossing to crossing, conducted them out of the South gate, hacked their bodies into four pieces south of the city, threw the pieces in the four directions, posted a guard of soldiers, and departed.

Thereupon Prince Dīghāvu entered Benāres, procured liquor, and gave it to the soldiers to drink. When they were drunk and had fallen, he gathered sticks of wood, built a pyre, placed the bodies of his mother and father on the pyre, lighted it, and with joined hands upraised in reverent salutation thrice made sunwise circuit of the pyre.

Now at that time Brahmadatta king of Kāsi was on an upper floor of his splendid palace. And Brahmadatta king of Kāsi saw Prince Dīghāvu, with joined hands upraised in reverent salutation, thrice making sunwise circuit of the pyre. When he saw this, the following thought occurred to him: “Without doubt that man is a kinsman or blood-relative of Dīghīti king of Kosala. Alas, my wretched misfortune, for no one will tell me the facts!”

Now Prince Dīghāvu went to the forest, wailed and wept his fill, and wiped his tears away. Then he entered Benāres, went to the elephant-stable adjoining the royal palace, and said this to the elephant-trainer: “Trainer, I wish to learn your art.” “Very well, young man, learn it.” Accordingly Prince Dīghāvu rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable.

Brahmadatta king of Kāsi heard him as he rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable. Hearing him, he asked his men: “Who was it, pray, that rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable?” “Your majesty, it was a young man, the pupil of such-and-such an elephant-trainer, who rose at night, at time of dawn, and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant-stable.” “Very well, bring that young man to me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said those men to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command brought Prince Dīghāvu to him.

“Was it you, young man, who rose at night, at time of dawn, [25] and sang and played the lute with charming voice in the elephant stable?” “Yes, your majesty.” “Very well, young man, sing and play the lute for me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command, desiring to win his favor, sang and played the lute with charming voice.

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “You, young man, may wait upon me.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, and obeyed his command. And Prince Dīghāvu rose in advance of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi, retired after him, obeyed his every command, conducted himself in a pleasing manner, spoke in a friendly manner. And in no very long time Brahmadatta king of Kāsi appointed Prince Dīghāvu to a highly confidential position.

Now Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, young man, harness the chariot; I wish to go a-hunting.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having, in obedience to the king’s command, harnessed the chariot, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Your majesty, the chariot is harnessed for you; do as you think fit.” Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi mounted the chariot; Prince Dīghāvu drove the chariot. In such wise did he drive the chariot that the army went one way, the chariot the other.

Now when he had gone a long way, Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, young man, unharness the chariot. I am tired: I wish to lie down.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi; and in obedience to his command unharnessed the chariot and sat down on the ground cross-legged. And Brahmadatta king of Kāsi lay down, placing his head in Prince Dīghāvu’s lap. So tired was he that in the mere fraction of a moment he fell asleep.

Thereupon to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “This Brahmadatta king of Kāsi has done us much injury. He has robbed us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. And he has killed my mother and father. This would be the very time for me to satisfy my hatred!” And he drew sword from sheath. Then to Prince Dīghāvu occurred the following thought: “My father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Dear [26] Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.’ It is not fitting that I should transgress the command of my father.” And he returned sword to sheath. And this happened a second time, and a third time.

Suddenly Brahmadatta king of Kāsi rose, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified. Thereupon Prince Dīghāvu said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Why, your majesty, did you rise so suddenly, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified?” “Right here, young man, Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala, fell upon me with his sword in a dream. Therefore I rose suddenly, frightened, agitated, alarmed, terrified.”

Then Prince Dīghāvu, stroking the head of Brahmadatta king of Kāsi with his left hand, and drawing his sword with his right hand, said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “I, your majesty, am Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala. You have done us much injury. You have robbed us of army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses. And you have killed my mother and father. This would be the very time for me to satisfy my hatred!”

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi prostrated himself on his face at the feet of Prince Dīghāvu, and said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Grant me my life, dear Dīghāvu! Grant me my life, dear Dīghāvu!” “How have I the power to grant your majesty your life? Your majesty, however, might grant me my life.” Very well, dear Dīghāvu. You grant me my life, and I will grant you your life.” Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi and Prince Dīghāvu granted each other their lives and shook hands and swore an oath not to injure each other.

Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “Now then, dear Dīghāvu, harness the chariot; let us be going.” “Yes, your majesty,” said Prince Dīghāvu to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi. And having, in obedience to the king’s command, harnessed the chariot, he said this to Brahmadatta king of Kāsi: “Your majesty, the chariot is harnessed for you; do as you think fit.” Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi mounted the chariot; Prince Dīghāvu drove the chariot. In such wise did he drive the chariot that in no very long time he came up with the army.

Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi entered Benāres, caused the [27] ministers of his council to be assembled, and said this: “If, sirs, you were to see Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala, what would you do to him?” Some spoke thus: “We, your majesty, would cut off his hands.” Others spoke thus: “We, your majesty, would cut off his feet.” “We would cut off his hands and feet.” “We would cut off his ears.” “We would cut off his nose.” “We would cut off his ears and nose.” “We, your majesty, would cut off his head.” “Sirs, this is Prince Dīghāvu, son of Dīghīti king of Kosala; it is not permissible to do anything to him. He has granted me my life, and I have granted him his life.”

Then Brahmadatta king of Kāsi said this to Prince Dīghāvu: “When, dear Dīghāvu, your father said to you in the hour of death: ‘Dear Dīghāvu, do not look long! Do not look short! For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love,’ what did your father mean by that?” “When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not long,’ what he meant was: ‘Do not cherish hatred long.’ This, your majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not long.’ When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not short,’ what he meant was: ‘Do not break with your friends quickly.’ This, your majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘Not short.’

“When, your majesty, my father said to me in the hour of death: ‘For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love,’ what he meant to have me understand was this: Your majesty has killed my mother and father. Were I to deprive your majesty of life, your majesty’s well-wishers would deprive me of life, and my well-wishers would deprive yours of life. Thus that hatred would not be quenched by hatred. But as matters stand, your majesty has granted me my life, and I have granted your majesty his life. Thus hatred has been quenched by love. This, your majesty, is what my father meant when he said to me in the hour of death: ‘For, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are not quenched by hatred. Nay rather, dear Dīghāvu, hatreds are quenched by love.’“

Thereupon Brahmadatta king of Kāsi exclaimed: “O how wonderful, how marvelous, that this Prince Dīghāvu should understand in its fulness a matter which his father expressed so briefly!” [28] And he restored to him the army and vehicles and territory and treasuries and storehouses of his fathers, and gave him his daughter in marriage.

“For, monks, of these kings who took the rod, who took the sword, such is said to have been the patience and gentleness. How much more, monks, should you, who have retired from the world under a Doctrine and Discipline so well taught, let your light so shine in this world as to be known of men as patient and gentle.” And for the third time the Exalted One said this to those monks: “Enough, monks! No quarreling! No brawling! No contending! No wrangling!”

7. Dīghāvu and the King of Benāres

Love your enemies.

Jātaka 371: iii. 211-213.

Such as you are, O king. This parable was related by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with reference to the quarrelsome monks of Kosambi. For when they came to Jetavana and begged his pardon, the Teacher addressed them: “Monks, you are my own legitimate sons, born of the words of my mouth. Now it is not proper for sons to trample under foot admonitions given them by their father. But you have not obeyed my admonitions. Wise men of old, even when bandits who had slain their mother and father and had taken their kingdom at last came into their hands in the forest, reflected, ‘We will not trample under foot the admonitions given us by our mother and father,’ and refrained from killing them.” So saying, he related the following Story of the Past:

Now that Prince Dīghāvu, as the king of Benāres lay in the forest with his head in his own lap, seizing him by the top-knot, drawing his sword, with the thought in his mind, “Now I will cut off the head of this slayer of my mother and father, this bandit, and hack it into fourteen pieces,” at that moment remembering the admonition given him by his mother and father, flunking, “Though I renounce life, I will not trample under foot their admonition; I will only frighten him,” uttered the first stanza:

Such as you are, O king, you have come into my power!
Is there any means by which you can escape disaster?

Then the king uttered the second stanza:

Such as I am, O prince, I have come into your power!
There is no means by which I can escape disaster. [29]

Then the Future Buddha uttered the rest of the stanzas:

Now when he had thus spoken, the Future Buddha said, “I, great king, have no desire to harm you; but do you kill me!” and placed his sword in the king’s hand. As for the king, he said, “Neither have I any desire to harm you,” and swore an oath. Returning to the city with the prince, he showed him to his ministers and said: “This, gentlemen, is Prince Dīghāvu, son of the king of Kosala. He has granted me my life. It is not permissible to do anything to him.” So saying, he gave him his own daughter in marriage and established him in the kingdom which belonged to his father. Thenceforth the two ruled as kings in unity and concord.

When the Teacher had related this parable, he identified the personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the mother and father were the royalties of to-day; Prince Dīghāvu was I myself.”

 

last updated: March 2016