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Dhammapada 2.1.p13

Dhammapadaṭṭhakathā 2.1.p13

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Pāli

2.1.p13

Tato aparabhāge paccekabuddhassa cīvaraṃ jīri. Athassa gopālako cīvaravatthāni adāsi. Tamenaṃ paccekabuddho āha – ‘‘āvuso, cīvaraṃ nāma ekakena kātuṃ dukkaraṃ, phāsukaṭṭhānaṃ gantvā kāressāmī’’ti. ‘‘Idheva, bhante, karothā’’ti. ‘‘Na sakkā, āvuso’’ti. ‘‘Tena hi, bhante, mā ciraṃ bahi vasitthā’’ti. Sunakho tesaṃ kathaṃ suṇantova aṭṭhāsi, paccekabuddhopi ‘‘tiṭṭha, upāsakā’’ti gopālakaṃ nivattāpetvā vehāsaṃ abbhuggantvā gandhamādanābhimukho pāyāsi. Sunakhassa taṃ ākāsena gacchantaṃ disvā bhukkaritvā ṭhitassa tasmiṃ cakkhupathaṃ vijahante hadayaṃ phalitvā mato. Tiracchānā kira nāmete ujujātikā honti akuṭilā. Manussā pana aññaṃ hadayena cintenti, aññaṃ mukhena kathenti. Tenevāha – ‘‘gahanañhetaṃ, bhante, yadidaṃ manussā, uttānakañhetaṃ, bhante, yadidaṃ pasavo’’ti (ma. ni. 2.3).

Later on the Private Buddha’s robe wore out. When the herdsman provided him with materials for a new set of robes, the Private Buddha said to him, “Brother, it is difficult for a person all alone to make a robe. I will go to a convenient place and have it made for me.” “Make it right here, Reverend Sir.” “No, brother, I cannot.” “Well then, Reverend Sir, do not take up your residence far from here.” The dog stood listening to every word they said. The Private Buddha said, “Wait a moment, brother.” Thereupon, leaving the herdsman behind, he flew up into the air and departed in the direction of Gandhamādana.

Eugene Watson Burlingame 1921, Buddhist Legends (Harvard Oriental Series 28–30)

When the dog saw him flying through the air, he began to bark and howl, and he kept this up until the Private Buddha gradually faded from view, whereupon his heart broke. (Animals, they say, are straightforward and not given to deceit; men, however, think one thing in their heart, but say another with their lips. Therefore said the Exalted One to a monk, “The ways of men are past finding out, but the ways of the beasts are easy to discover.”) So when the dog died, he was reborn, because of his straightforwardness and lack of deceit, in the World of the Thirty-three with a retinue of a thousand celestial nymphs, and there he enjoyed glory and bliss unspeakable. When he but whispered, his voice carried a distance of sixteen leagues; when he spoke in an ordinary tone, he could be heard all over the city of the gods, a city ten thousand leagues in extent. (Do you ask, “Of what was this the consequence?” It was because he barked and howled for love of the Private Buddha.)

Eugene Watson Burlingame 1921, Buddhist Legends (Harvard Oriental Series 28–30)

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