Mediaeval Sinhalese Art c6.20

c6.20

Subsequently “when the construction of the spire and the plastering of the cetiya alone remained to be completed, the Rāja was afflicted with the disease that terminated his existence. Sending for his younger brother Tissa from Dīghavāpi, he said to him, ‘Perfect the work still left unfinished at the thūpa.’ As his brother (the King) was in the last stage of weakness, this prince caused a case made of white cloths, to be sewed by seamsters (*then as now, needlework was essentially a man’s craft*) and enveloped the cētiya therewith. He also employed painters to paint the panelled basement; and upon it (were represented) rows of filled vases, and ornaments radiating like the five fingers. He employed parasol-frame weavers to form the frame of a (temporary) spire made of bamboos; and in the same manner . . . he formed a parapet round the pinnacle, representing thereon the sun and moon; and having painted the same most beautifully with red stick lac and *kuṅkuma*, he announced to the King, ‘The work which was to be performed at the thūpa is completed.’ The ruler of the land repaired thither, carried extended on his palanquin; and having himself borne round the cētiya . . . he bowed down to it in worship, and extending himself on a carpet spread on the ground and turning on his left side, he fixed his eyes on the magnificent Lōhapāsāda; and finding himself at the same time encircled by the priesthood, he was filled with joy.” Receiving spiritual consolation, and giving directions for his cremation, and advice to his brother, *The Sinhalese people* he passed away “while yet gazing on the Mahāthūpa, stretched on his bed.” So died this great man; but his spirit lived on, and manifested itself continually in the religious and architectural activity of successive Kings to the very beginning of the nineteenth century. We cannot but be reminded of the death of another great builder king, the Shāh Jehān, who passed away gazing upon the Tāj Mahāl* as he lay upon his bed, a prisoner in Āgra fort. The present age, of lesser faith, will leave no such great memorials of its love and fear and hope.