法苑珠林 80.29

80.29

At that time, when the brāhmaṇa of the state of Kuru arrived home with the children, his wife met him with revilement: 'How could you bear to come back with such a face? These children are of royal lineage, yet you have no mercy, beating them so that sores arose and their bodies are covered with pus and blood! Take them quickly and peddle them for sale, and seek other servants.' Her husband followed his wife's words and promptly went to sell them. The Lord of Heaven went through the marketplace saying, 'These children are precious; none can afford to buy them.' Eventually [they arrived] in the state of Yebopo. The ministers and people recognized that they were the children of the crown prince and grandchildren of the great king; the entire country was filled with grief. The ministers promptly asked where he had obtained these children. The brāhmaṇa said, 'I begged and received them myself.' When people wished to take them by force, an elder among them admonished them, saying, 'This came to pass only through the prince's mind of dāna. Now, taking them by force would go against the prince's intent. It would be better to report this to the king; once the king hears of it, he will naturally ransom them.' The ministers reported it to the king. When the king heard it, he was greatly astonished and at once summoned the brāhmaṇa, ordering him to bring the children into the palace. When the king, the queen, and the palace women saw the two children from afar, not one among them failed to choke with tears. The king asked, 'By what cause did you obtain these children?' The brāhmaṇa answered, 'I simply begged and obtained them from the prince.' The king called the two children, wishing to embrace them, but the children both wept and refused to be embraced. The king asked the brāhmaṇa, 'How much money do you seek to sell them for?' Before the brāhmaṇa could reply, the boy spoke up: 'The boy is worth one thousand silver coins and one hundred bullocks; the girl is worth two thousand gold coins and two hundred cows.' The king said, 'A boy is what people cherish; why is the boy cheap while the girl is dear?' The boy said, 'The court ladies of the inner palace have no kinship with the king; some come from lowly origins, and some were merely maidservants, yet wherever the king's favor falls, they attain honor and nobility. The king had only one son, yet you banished him into the deep mountains, having no thought of love for your son at all. Therefore, it is clear that the boy is cheap while the girl is dear.' Hearing these words, the king was overwhelmed with sorrow and grief, his sobbing and weeping mingled. He said, 'I have wronged you greatly! Why do you not come into my embrace? Are you angry with me? Or do you fear the brāhmaṇa?' The boy said, 'We dare not resent the king, nor do we fear the brāhmaṇa. We were originally royal grandchildren, but now we are slaves. How could slaves come into the king's embrace? That is why we did not dare.' Hearing these words, the king's sorrow grew doubly intense. He redeemed them as was said, and again called the two children, who then went into the king's embrace. The king embraced his two grandchildren, stroked their heads with his hand, and asked the two children, 'What did your father eat and drink in the mountains? What kind of clothing did he wear?' The children answered him in full. The king at once dispatched an envoy to hasten to welcome the prince, proclaiming the king's command to the prince. The prince answered, 'The king banished me to the mountains for a term of twelve years. Now there is still one year remaining. When the term is complete, I shall return.' The envoy returned and reported this to the king. The king then wrote a personal letter to give to the prince: 'You are a wise man; when leaving you practiced forbearance, and when returning you should also practice forbearance. Why are you angry with me and refuse to return?' When the prince received the letter, he placed it atop his head in veneration, circumambulated it seven times, and then opened and read it. When the birds and beasts of the mountain heard that the prince was returning, they leapt, rolled on the ground, threw themselves down, and cried aloud. Springs dried up, beasts ceased to nurse, and all the birds wailed sorrowfully, because they were losing the prince. The prince and his consort returned together to their native land. When the hostile neighboring enemy state heard that the prince was to return, they at once sent an envoy to equip the white elephant with saddles and bridles of gold and silver, filling a gold bowl with silver grain and a silver bowl with gold grain, to meet him on the road and return it to the prince. They apologized and repented of their fault, saying, 'Our former begging of the white elephant was merely due to ignorance. It was on our account that the prince was banished. Now hearing of your return, we are inwardly filled with joy. We now present the white elephant back to the prince; may you deign to accept it so as to wipe away our transgression.' The prince replied, 'Suppose someone prepared food of a hundred delicacies to offer to another, but that person vomited it onto the ground; could it still be considered fragrant, clean, and fit to be eaten again? My dāna is also like that which has been vomited out: in the end, I will never accept it back. Quickly ride the elephant away, convey my thanks to your king, and pardon the hardship of your envoy who has come from afar to inquire after me.' Thereupon the envoy rode the elephant back and reported this to the king. Because of this elephant, the enmity of the hostile state was transformed into benevolence, and the king and his ministers all generated the intention towards the unexcelled, equal path. The father-king rode an elephant out to welcome the prince. The prince came forward, bowed his head to the ground in homage, and followed the king home. Among the people of the state, none failed to rejoice, scattering flowers and burning incense to await the prince. When the prince entered the palace, he at once went before his mother, bowed his head to the ground in homage, and inquired after her wellbeing. The king entrusted the treasury of jewels to the prince, and he practiced dāna at will, surpassing even before. Practicing dāna without cease, he naturally attained buddhahood.