Mediaeval Sinhalese Art c14.12

c14.12

The dēva that dwelt in that tree heard their words, and thought to himself, ‘These craftsmen are agreed to fell my tree, and to destroy my home. I myself shall perish when my place of habitation is destroyed. Also the young śal trees that are all about me will be destroyed; and in them there dwell many dēvas of my kith and kin. My own death touches me not so near as the destruction of my children, let me then save their lives if I may avail thereto.’ So at the hour of midnight, the tree-dēva, in the radiance of his divinity, entered the king’s resplendent chamber, and stood beside the royal pillow sobbing, his glory lighting up the whole room. At which the king was overcome with fear and surprise, and stammered out, ‘What god art thou, that dost appear floating in the air, wearing an angel’s garb: what is thy grief, why dost thou weep so heavily?’ To which the dēva-prince replied, ‘I am called in thy realm, O king, the Lucky-tree; for sixty-thousand years all men have loved and worshipped me. Many a house and town, many a palace too they made, yet never did me wrong; honour thou me, even as they did, O king.’ But the king answered, ‘Never have I yet seen a trunk so fine, so tall and great of girth, so thick and strong. I shall raise a glorious palace, resting on a single column; there shalt thou long endure.’ The dēva-prince answered, ‘Since thou are set on my destruction, one thing I ask, to cut me small, cut me piecemeal and limb from limb, O king, if thou must cut at all. Cut first the top, the middle next, and then the root of me—and if so thou fellest me, O king, death will not give me grievous pain.’ The king said then, ‘This is a painful death—to sever from the living frame first the hands and feet, then nose and ears, and last of all the head. O Lucky-tree, O forest-lord, why will thou thus be cut piecemeal, what gain is thine thereby?’ To which the Lucky-tree replied, ‘Hearken now while I reveal the meaning of my wish to be felled in pieces—there is a sufficient and a worthy reason for it: my kith and kin have grown up around me, and beneath my shade, I should crush them if I fell entire upon them, and very great would be their sorrow.’ The king was greatly moved at these words and thought within himself, ‘This is a noble-minded god that would save the dwellings of his fellows despite the destruction of his own; and he broke into these words, ‘O Lucky-tree, O forest lord, thy thought is noble indeed; as thou wouldst save thy kindred, so I shall spare thee, have no more fear.’ Then the dēva-prince spake to the king, and counselled him and left him. And the king took to heart his words, and gave generous gifts and alms, until the time came for his departure to join the hosts of heaven.”*