4.3 The Story about Viḍūḍabha
Viḍūḍabhavatthu
Dhp 47
CST4: Viṭaṭūbhavatthu
Burlingame: Viḍūḍabha Wreaks Vengeance on the Sākiyans
Compare: Ja 465; Ja 346 BG: The story of Viḍūḍabha is the same story as that related in the Introduction to Ja 465. Dhp-a 1.3468-35723, is almost word for word the same as Ja 4.14611-15229. Cf. Rhys Davids, Buddhist India, p. 11. The embedded Story of the Past (Dhp-a 1.34218-3454) is a free version of Ja 346.
Prince Viḍūḍabha learned that he was the son of a Sakyan slave-woman due to a trick the Sakyans had played on his father, King Pasenadi, and he vowed revenge; on becoming king he massacred the Sakyans, but on his way home he and his army were swept away by flood waters; later the Buddha spoke a verse summarising what had happened.
Cast: Viḍūḍabha, Pasenadi, Mahāli, Bandhula, Visākhā, Suppavāsā, Sāriputta, Mahā Moggallāna, Ānanda, Kesava, Kappa, Nārada, Mahānāma, Vāsabhā Khattiyā, Mallikā, Dīgha Kārāyaṇa
Keywords: Chief Disciples, Slaves, Murder, Equanimity, Retribution, Epics, Past Lives
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“Death takes up and carries away,” this Dhamma teaching was given by the Teacher while he was in residence at Sāvatthī with reference to Viḍūḍabha and his retinue, who were overwhelmed by a
From beginning to end the story is as follows: At Sāvatthī lived Prince Pasenadi, son of the king of the Kosalans; at Vesālī,
Prince Pasenadi so delighted his father with the exhibition he gave of proficiency in the various arts that his father anointed him king.
Prince Mahāli devoted himself to the task of educating the Licchavi princes, but over-exerting himself, lost the sight of his eyes. Said the Licchavi princes: “Alas! Our teacher has lost the sight of his eyes. However, we will not cast him out, but will support him loyally.” Accordingly they gave him the income from a gate worth 100,000 coins. Near this gate he lived, instructing the five hundred Licchavi princes in the various arts.
As for Prince Bandhula, the princely families of the Mallas bound sticks of bamboo together in bundles of sixty each, inserting a strip of iron in each bundle, suspended sixty bundles in the air, and challenged the prince to cut them down. The prince leaped eighty cubits into the air and smote them with his sword.
Hearing the click of iron in the last bundle, he asked: “What is that?” When he learned that a strip of iron had been placed in each of the bundles, he threw away his sword and burst into tears, saying: “Of all these kinsmen and friends of mine, not a single one thought enough of me to tell me this fact. For had I only known it, I should have cut the bundles without causing the iron to give forth a sound.” And he said to his mother and father: “I will kill everyone of these princes and rule in their stead.” They replied: “Son, the kingdom is handed down from father to son, and it will therefore be impossible for you to do this.” By various devices they dissuaded him from carrying out his plan, whereupon he said: “Well then, I will go and live with a friend of mine,” and forthwith went to Sāvatthī.
King Pasenadi, hearing that he was coming, went forth to meet
Now one day, as the king was standing on the terrace looking down into the street, he saw several thousand bhikkhus pass through the street on their way to breakfast in the houses of Anāthapiṇḍika, Culla Anāthapiṇḍika, Visākhā, and Suppavāsā. “Where are these venerable bhikkhus going?” He enquired. “Your majesty, every day two thousand bhikkhus go to the house of Anāthapiṇḍika for food, medicine, and so forth; five hundred to the house of Culla Anāthapiṇḍika; and a like number to the houses of Visākhā and Suppavāsā.” The king also conceived a desire to minister to the Saṅgha of bhikkhus, and going to the monastery,
When the Saṅgha of bhikkhus arrived, the king took their bowls and for seven days waited upon them in person, allowing no one else to perform that office. On the eighth day he suffered from distraction of mind and neglected to perform his duty. The bhikkhus said to themselves: “In the house of a king no one may provide seats for the bhikkhus and wait upon them unless he is expressly ordered to do so. It will therefore be impossible for us to remain here any longer.” Accordingly many departed. On the second day also the king neglected his duty, and accordingly on the second day many more departed. Likewise on the third day the king neglected his duty, with the result that on that day all the remaining bhikkhus departed with the single exception of the Elder Ānanda.
They that are truly righteous rise above circumstances and guard the faith of families. The Realised One had two principal male disciples, the Elder Sāriputta and the Elder Mahā Moggallāna, and two principal female disciples, Khemā and Uppalavaṇṇā. Among the lay disciples there were two principal male lay disciples, the householder Citta and Hatthaka Āḷavaka, and two principal female lay disciples, Velukaṇṭhakī, mother of Nanda, and Khujjutarā.
When it was time for the bhikkhus to depart, the king came, and observing that the food, both hard and soft, had not been touched, he enquired: “Did not the noble bhikkhus come?” – “The Elder Ānanda was the only one who came, your majesty.” – “Just see the loss they have caused me,” said the king. Angry at the bhikkhus, he went to the Teacher and said: “Venerable Sir, I prepared food for five hundred bhikkhus, and Ānanda, it appears, was the only one who came. The food which was prepared remains there still untouched, and the bhikkhus have not put in the sign of an appearance in my house. Pray what is the reason for this?” The Teacher, imputing no fault to the bhikkhus, replied: “Great king, my disciples lack confidence in you; it must be for that reason that they failed to come.” And addressing the bhikkhus and setting forth first the conditions under which bhikkhus are not bound to visit families, and then the conditions under which it is proper for them so to do, he recited the following
3a Discourse about Families AJ: Kulasutta, AN 9.17.
“Bhikkhus, there are nine traits the possession of which by a family disqualifies that family from receiving visits from the bhikkhus. Therefore if bhikkhus have not visited that family, they are under no obligations to visit it; and if they do visit it, they are under no obligations to sit down. What are the nine? They do not rise to meet them in a pleasing manner; they do not greet them in a pleasing manner; they do not seat them in a pleasing manner; they conceal what they possess; possessing much, they give little; possessing food of superior quality, they give food of inferior quality; instead of presenting their offerings respectfully, they present them disrespectfully; they do not sit down to hear the Dhamma; they do not speak in a pleasing tone of voice.
Conversely, bhikkhus, there are nine traits the possession of which by a family entitles that family to receive visits from the bhikkhus. Therefore if bhikkhus have not visited that family, it is proper for them to visit it; and if they do visit it, it is proper for them to sit down. What are the nine? They rise to meet them in a pleasing manner; they greet them in a pleasing manner; they seat them in a pleasing manner; they do not conceal what they possess; possessing much, they give much; possessing food of superior quality, they give food of superior quality; instead of presenting their offerings disrespectfully, they present them respectfully; they sit down to hear the Dhamma; they speak in a pleasing tone of voice. These, bhikkhus, are the nine traits the possession of which by a family entitles that family to receive visits from the bhikkhus. Therefore if bhikkhus have not visited that family, it is proper for them to visit it; and if they do visit it, it is proper for them to sit down.
For this reason, great king, my disciples lacked confidence in you; it must be for this reason that they failed to come. Even so did wise men of old reside in a place unworthy of their confidence, and though served with respect, suffer the agonies of death, and therefore went to a place worthy of their confidence.” – “When was that?” asked the king. So the Teacher related the following
3b Story of the Past: Kesava, Kappa, Nārada, and the King of Bārāṇasī
In times past, when Brahmadatta reigned in Bārāṇasī, a king named Kesava renounced his throne, and went forth in the seers’ going forth; and five hundred of his retainers followed his example and went forth. Thereafter the king was known as the ascetic Kesava. Kappa, the keeper of his jewels, likewise went forth and became his pupil.
The ascetic Kesava with his retinue resided for eight months in the Himālaya country and when the rainy season began, came to Bārāṇasī seeking salt and vinegar
The rest of the ascetics, after living there for a few days, were so
When the king came to wait upon him, he asked: “Where have the noble ones gone?” – “They said they were discontented and unhappy and have gone to the Himālayas, great king.” It was not long before Kappa also became discontented. Although the teacher tried repeatedly to dissuade him from leaving, he insisted that he could endure it no longer. So he departed, going and joining the others and taking up his residence not far off, where he could receive news of the teacher.
The teacher thought continually of his pupils and after a time began to suffer from an internal complaint. The king had him treated by physicians, but there was no improvement in his condition. Finally the ascetic said to him: “Great king, do you wish to have me get well?” – “Venerable Sir, if only I could, I would make you well again this moment.” – “Great king, if you desire to have me get well, send me to my pupils.”
The pupil Kappa, hearing that the teacher was coming, went to meet him. “Where are the others?” asked Kesava. “They live in such and such a place,” replied Kappa. When the others heard that the teacher had arrived, they assembled together, provided the teacher with hot water, and presented him with various kinds of fruits. At that very moment he recovered from his sickness, and in a few days his body again took on a golden hue. Nārada asked him:
“Having given up lordship over men,
and the success of all of your desires,
in what way are you fortunate, Kesī,
taking delight in Kappa’s hermitage?”
“It is delightful and pleasant,
there are trees that delight the mind,
Kappa’s words which are well-spoken,
Nārada, bring delight to me.”
“You ate the very best boiled rice,
sprinkled over meat that was pure,
how do you take the same pleasure
in wild rice, with is without salt?”
“Whether it is tasty or not,
whether it is little or much,
where it’s eaten in confidence,
confidence is the supreme taste.”
When the Teacher had ended his lesson, he identified the characters in the Birth Story as follows: “At that time the king was Moggallāna, Nārada was Sāriputta,
Thus, great king, in former times also wise men endured the agonies of death and went to a place worthy of their confidence. My own disciples lack confidence in you, I doubt not.”
3c Vāsabhā Khattiyā
The king thought to himself: “I must win the confidence of the Saṅgha of bhikkhus. How best can I do it? The best way is for me to introduce into my house the daughter of some kinsman of the Sambuddha. In such case the young bhikkhus and novices will come to my house with confidence regularly, thinking: ‘The king is a kinsman of the Sambuddha.’” Accordingly he sent a message to the Sākiyans, saying: “Give me one of your daughters.” And he ordered the messengers to learn the name of the Sākiyan whose daughter it was and to return to him. The messengers went and asked the Sākiyans for a maiden.
The Sākiyans assembled and said to each other: “The king is an enemy of ours. Therefore if we refuse to give him what he demands, he will destroy us. Moreover, he is not of equal birth with ourselves. What is to be done?” Mahānāma said: “I have a daughter named Vāsabhā Khattiyā, born of a slave-woman of mine, and she is a maiden of surpassing beauty; we will give her to him.” So he said to the messengers: “Very well, we will give the king one of our maidens.” – “Whose daughter is it?” – “She is the daughter of Mahānāma the Sākiyan, and Mahānāma is the son of the uncle of the Sambuddha. The maiden’s name is Vāsabhā Khattiyā.” The messengers went and told the king.
The king said: “If this be so, well and good. Bring her to me immediately. But those princes of the noble caste are full of deceit; they may even send me the daughter of a slave-woman. Therefore do not bring her unless she eats out of the same dish as her father.”
In no long time she gave birth to a son, the hue of whose body was as the hue of gold. The king rejoiced thereat and sent word to his own grandmother: “Vāsabhā Khattiyā, daughter of the king of the Sākiyans, has given birth to a son. Give him a name.” Now the minister who took the message and conveyed it to the king’s grandmother was a little deaf. The result was that when the grandmother, upon receiving the message, exclaimed: “Even before she gave birth to a child, Vāsabhā Khattiyā won the hearts of all the people; but now she must be dear to the king beyond measure,” the deaf minister mistook the word vallabhā, “beloved,” for Viḍūḍabha, and went and said to the king: “Give the prince the name Viḍūḍabha.” The king thought to himself: “That must be one of our old family names,” and gave the child the name Viḍūḍabha. When he was but a mere boy, the king appointed him commander-in-chief of the army, thinking that it would please the Teacher.
Viḍūḍabha was brought up in princely state. When he was seven years old, observing that the other princes received presents of toy elephants, horses, and the like from their maternal grandfathers, he asked his mother: “Mother, the other princes
Finally his mother gave her consent, saying: “Very well, you may go.” He informed his father and set out with a large retinue. Vāsabhā Khattiyā sent a letter ahead of him, saying: “I am living here happily. Let not my lords make any difference in their treatment of him.” When the Sākiyans learned that Viḍūḍabha was coming, they said to themselves: “It is impossible for us to worship him.” Accordingly they sent the younger princes to the country, and when he arrived
Now a certain slave-woman washed with milk and water the seat in the royal rest-house on which Viḍūḍabha had sat; and as she did so, she remarked contemptuously: “This is the seat on which sat the son of the slave-woman Vāsabhā Khattiyā!” A certain man who had forgotten his sword went back for it, and as he took it, overheard the slave-woman’s contemptuous remark about the prince Viḍūḍabha. Inquiring into the matter, he learned that Vāsabhā Khattiyā was the daughter of a slave-woman of Mahānāma the Sākiyan. And he went and informed the army: “Vāsabhā Khattiyā, I am told, is the daughter of a slave-woman.” Immediately there was a great uproar. When Viḍūḍabha learned of the incident, he made the following vow: “These Sākiyans now wash the seat whereon I sat with milk and water; when I am established in my kingdom, I will wash my seat with the blood of their throats.”
When the prince returned to Sāvatthī, the ministers told the king everything that had happened. The king was angry at the Sākiyans for giving him the daughter of a slave-woman, cut off the royal honors which had been bestowed on Vāsabhā Khattiyā and her son, and degraded them to the condition of slaves.
A few days afterwards the Teacher went to the royal residence and sat down. The king came, worshipped him, and said: “Venerable Sir, I am informed that it was the daughter of a slave-woman
3d Bandhula, Mallikā and the Licchavis
At Kusinārā, Mallikā, daughter of Mallikā and wife of Bandhula, commander-in-chief of the army, remained for a long time childless. Accordingly Bandhula put her away, saying: “Go back again to the house of your own family.” She thought to herself: “I will see the Teacher before I go.” Therefore she entered Jetavana, worshipped the Realised One, and waited. “Where are you going?” asked the Teacher. “My husband
After a short time Mallikā conceived a child in her womb, and the longing of pregnancy arose within her. She said to her husband: “The longing of pregnancy has arisen within me.” – “What is the nature of your longing?” he asked. She replied: “Husband, in the city of Vesālī is a lotus-tank used by troops of princes at coronation festivals. I long to descend therein, to swim therein, and to drink the water thereof.” – “Very well,” said Bandhula. And taking his bow, which required the strength of a thousand men to string, he assisted his wife to mount the chariot and drove in his chariot from Sāvatthī to Vesālī, entering Vesālī by the gate which had been given to the Licchavi prince Mahāli. Now the Licchavi prince Mahāli dwelt in a house hard by the gate; and when he heard the rumble of the chariot on the threshold, he said to himself: “That is the sound of Bandhula’s chariot. There is trouble in store for the Licchavi princes today.”
Both within and without the lotus-tank were posted strong guards, and the tank was covered overhead by an iron grating with meshes so small that not even birds could get through.
The men of the guard reported the matter to the Licchavi princes. Thereupon the Licchavi princes were filled with rage, and mounting five hundred chariots, they departed from the city, saying: “We will capture Bandhula and Mallikā.” Mahāli said to them: “Do not go, for he will kill every man of you.” But they replied: “We will go all the same.” – “Well then, turn back when you see his chariot sink into the ground up to the nave. If you do not turn back then, you will hear before you, as it were, the crash of a thunderbolt. Then you must not fail to turn back. If you do not turn back then, you will see a hole in the yokes of your chariots. Turn back then; go no farther.” But in spite of Mahāli’s warnings, they did not turn back, but pursued him.
Mallikā saw them and said: “There are chariots in sight, husband.” – “Very well! When they appear as a single chariot, tell me.” So when all of them appeared as a single chariot, she said: “It looks like the front of a single chariot.” – “Well then,” said Bandhula, “take these reins.” And giving her the reins, he stood up in the chariot and raised his bow. Thereupon the wheels of his chariot sank into the ground up to the nave. Although the Licchavi princes saw his chariot sink into the ground, they did not turn back. After going a little way, Bandhula twanged his bow-string, the sound whereof was as the crash of a thunderbolt. Not even then did his enemies turn back, but continued their pursuit just the same. Then Bandhula, standing in his chariot, let fly a single arrow. The arrow made a hole in the front of each of five hundred chariots, passed through the body of each of five hundred princes at the spot where he wore his girdle, and then entered the earth.
But the Licchavi princes, unaware that they were pierced through and through, cried out: “Halt where you are! Halt where you are!” So saying, they continued their pursuit. Bandhula stopped his chariot and said: “You are all dead men! I will not fight with the dead.” – “Do we look like dead men?” they asked. “Well then,”
3e Bandhula and His Thirty-Two Sons
Sixteen times Mallikā bore twin sons to Bandhula, and all of them were valiant men, endowed with great strength. All of them attained perfection in the several arts. Each of them had a retinue of a thousand men; and when they accompanied their father to the royal residence, the palace court was filled with their numerous company. One day some men who had been defeated in a false suit in court saw Bandhula approaching, and with loud cries of protest told him of the unjust actions of the judges. Bandhula thereupon went to the court and decided the case in such wise as to make the rightful owner the actual owner. The populace applauded him with loud shouts of approval. The king asked: “What is this commotion about?” When he heard the explanation, he was pleased, and removing all those judges, he turned over the administration of justice to Bandhula alone, who thereafter rendered just judgments.
The former judges, who suffered severe loss from the cutting off of their bribes, created dissensions among the members of the royal family, saying: “Bandhula aspires to the throne.” The king believed their talk and was unable to control his feelings. “But,” he thought, “if this man is killed right here, I shall be severely blamed.” On second thoughts he suborned men to make an attack on his own frontier. Then he summoned Bandhula and sent him forth, saying: “I am informed that the frontier is in a state of insurrection. Take your sons with you and go
3f Mallikā’s Imperturbability
That day Mallikā had invited the two Chief Disciples to her house, together with five hundred bhikkhus. And that very morning they
The Captain of the Dhamma
Signless, unknown, the life of mortals here, BG: Snp 3.8. AJ: the commentary quoted only the first line, I include the rest here.
miserable, short, it is joined to suffering.
There is no way that the born do not die,
attaining old age also there is death,
this is the nature of living beings.
Like fruits that have ripened fall down,
and from their falling there is fear,
just so for those born there is death,
and from death there is constant fear.
Just as earthenware bowls that
have been made by a potter,
so do the life of mortals
always end by breaking up.
Both the young and the old,
those foolish and the wise,
all come under the power
of death, all end in death.
For those who’re overcome by death,
when going to the other world,
no father can protect his child,
or his relatives or his kin.
Even while relatives look on –
see them lamenting in many ways –
in the same way mortals are led
out, like a cow to the slaughter.
Thus the world is stricken
by death and by old age,
therefore the wise grieve not,
knowing the nature of the world.
You do not know the path
by which one comes and goes,
not seeing either end,
you lament without a purpose.
If by lamenting something
could be removed, a deluded
person might do himself harm,
then the wise one might do it.
But not by weeping or grieving,
does one attain peace in the mind,
suffering arises even more,
and the body is also harmed.
One becomes thin and pale,
and by one’s self one hurts oneself,
not by this are the dead preserved,
lamenting is without purpose.
Not abandoning grief a person
undergoes even more suffering,
bemoaning the one who has died,
he comes under the sway of grief.
See others also departing, people
who go according to their deeds,
come under the control of death,
living beings here do tremble.
Whatever way they imagine,
it turns out to be otherwise,
such the state of separation,
see the true nature of the world.
But even if a person live
a hundred years or even more,
there is still separation from
relatives when leaving life here.
Thus, hearing from the Arahat,
one should remove lamentation,
seeing the dead and departed,
(know) “it’s not possible for me.”
Just as with a shelter that burns,
one extinguishes it with water,
so the firm one, having wisdom,
the wise and the skilful person,
quickly drives off the grief that has
arisen, like wind does cotton.
Both lamentation and desire,
and the sorrow that is one’s own,
seeking happiness for oneself,
one should draw the barb from oneself.
With barb withdrawn, independent,
having arrived at peace of mind,
having overcome all the grief,
one is griefless, liberated.
Having taught the Dhamma, he rose from his seat and went to the monastery. Mallikā summoned her two and thirty daughters-in-law and admonished them as follows: “Your husbands were free from guilt and have merely reaped the fruit of misdeeds in previous states of existence. Grieve not, nor lament. Cherish no resentment against the king.” The king’s spies listened to her words and went and told the king that they cherished no hatred of him. The king was overcome with emotion, went to Mallikā’s residence, asked Mallikā and her daughters-in-law to forgive him, and granted Mallikā a boon. “I accept,” said she.
So when the king had departed and she had given the feast in honor of the dead, she bathed, and approaching the king, said: “Your majesty, you granted me a boon. I desire nothing other than this, that you permit me and my thirty-two daughters-in-law to return to the homes of our families.” The king consented, and she thereupon sent her thirty-two daughters-in-law to their respective homes and herself went to the city of Kusinārā to the house of her own family.
3g Viḍūḍabha and the Sākiyans
The king appointed to the post of commander-in-chief of the army Dīgha Kārāyaṇa, a nephew of the former commander-in-chief Bandhula. And Dīgha Kārāyaṇa went about reviling the king and saying: “It was the king that killed my uncle.”
Now at that time the Teacher was in residence near a small village of the Sākiyans named Uḷumpa. The king went there, pitched camp not far from the grove where the Teacher resided, and thinking: “I will pay my respects to the Teacher,” went to the monastery, accompanied by a small retinue. Giving the five symbols of royalty to Dīgha Kārāyaṇa, he entered the Perfumed Chamber alone, and everything is to be understood as narrated in the Dhammacetiya Discourse. AJ: MN 89. The king was passing through the country and had arrived at Nagaraka when he heard that the Buddha was nearby, he therefore went with Kārāyaṇa to meet the Buddha. We learn from the discourse that both the Buddha and the king were 80 years old at the time.
When Pasenadi entered the Perfumed Chamber, Kārāyaṇa took the five symbols of royalty and made Viḍūḍabha king. Then, leaving behind a single horse and a single female servant for Pasenadi, he went to Sāvatthī. The king held sweet conversation with the Teacher, and then came out. Not seeing the army, he questioned the woman, and from her learned what had happened. “I will take my nephew with me and capture Viḍūḍabha,” said the king, and went to the city of Rājagaha.
It was late in the day when he reached the city, and the gates were closed. Exhausted by exposure to the wind and the sun, Pasenadi lay down in a certain rest-house and died there in the night. As the night grew bright, they heard the voice of that woman lamenting: “King of Kosala, you have lost your protector!” And they went and told the new king. Thereupon Ajātasattu performed the funeral rites over the body of his uncle Pasenadi with great pomp.
When Viḍūḍabha became king, he remembered his grudge. And saying to himself: “I will slay all the Sākiyans,” he set out with a large army. On that day, as the Teacher surveyed the world at dawn, he saw the impending destruction of his kinsfolk. And thinking: “I must protect my kinsfolk,” he went on his rounds for alms in the morning; and returning from his almsround, lay down lion-like on his right side in the Perfumed Chamber; and in the evening went through the air and sat down at the foot of a tree with scanty shade in the vicinity of Kapilavatthu. Not far from there, on the boundary of Viḍūḍabha’s kingdom, stood a great banyan tree giving dense shade.
Viḍūḍabha, seeing the Teacher, approached him, worshipped him, and said: “Venerable Sir, why do you sit at the foot of this tree with scanty shade when it is so hot? Sit at the foot of this banyan tree which gives dense shade, venerable Sir.” – “Be not concerned, great king. The shade of my kinsmen keeps me cool.” – “The Teacher must have come for the purpose of protecting his kinsfolk,” thought
The king remembered his hatred of the Sākiyans and went forth the second time, but seeing the Teacher in the same place, turned back. Again the third time he went forth, but seeing the Teacher in the same place, turned back. But when he went forth the fourth time, the Teacher, surveying the former deeds of the Sākiyans and realizing the impossibility of averting the consequences of the wicked deed they committed by throwing poison into the river, refrained from going the fourth time.
Viḍūḍabha therefore went forth with a large force, saying: “I will slay the Sākiyans.”
As Viḍūḍabha turned back, he said to his men: “I direct you to kill all those who say: ‘We are Sākiyans,’ but to spare the lives of those who follow Mahānāma the Sākiyan.” The Sākiyans stood their ground, and having no other resources, some took blades of grass in their teeth, while others held reeds. Now the Sākiyans would rather die than utter an untruth. So when they were asked: “Are you Sākiyans or not?” those who held blades of grass in their teeth said: “Not sāka: ‘potherb,’
3h Viḍūḍabha and his Men Are Swept Away
Viḍūḍabha captured Mahānāma the Sākiyan and set out to return. When it was time for breakfast, he stopped at a certain place and thought to himself: “I will now have breakfast.” When the food was brought to him, he said to himself: “I will eat with my grandfather,” and sent for him. Now members of the noble caste would rather give up their lives than eat with the sons of slave-women. Therefore Mahānāma, seeing a certain lake, said: “Dear grandson, my limbs are dirty. I wish to go and bathe.” – “Very well, grandfather, go and bathe.” Mahānāma thought to himself: “If I refuse to eat with him, he will kill me. That being the case, it is better for me to die by my own hand.” So taking down his hair, he knotted it at the end, thrust his great toes into his hair, and plunged into the water.
By the power of his merit the abode of the Nāgas manifested signs of heat. The king of the Nāgas, considering within himself: “What does this mean?” went to him, caused him to sit within his hood, and carried him to the abode of the Nāgas. There he dwelt for twelve years. Viḍūḍabha sat down and thought: “Now my grandfather will come; now my grandfather will come.” Finally, after his grandfather had, as he thought, tarried an excessively long time, he caused the lake to be searched by lamplight, even examining the insides of his followers’ clothing. Seeing him nowhere, he made up his mind: “He must have gone,” and departed.
During the night
The multitude began to discuss the incident. “The slaying of the
Again one day in the Dhamma Hall the bhikkhus began a discussion: “Viḍūḍabha slew all those Sākiyans, and then, before the desire of his own heart had been fulfilled, he and his numerous company were swept out to sea and became food for fishes and tortoises.”
The Teacher came in and asked: “Bhikkhus, what is it you are gathered here now talking about?” When they told him, he said: “Bhikkhus, or ever the desire of these living beings be fulfilled, even as a mighty flood overwhelms a sleeping village, so the King of Death cuts short their lives and plunges them into the four oceans of suffering.” So saying, he pronounced the following verse:
47. Pupphāni heva pacinantaṁ byāsattamanasaṁ naraṁ,
suttaṁ gāmaṁ mahogho va, maccu ādāya gacchati.
Death takes up and carries away
the one whose mind is attached to
collecting flowers, like a flood
carries off a sleeping village.
At the end of the teaching many attained the fruition of Stream-entry and so on, and benefit arose to many people from the teaching.