Better an enemy. This parable was related by the Teacher while he was journeying from place to place in the country of the Magadhas, in a certain little village, with reference to some foolish villagers.
The story goes that once upon a time the Teacher went from Sāvatthi to the kingdom of Magadha, and journeying about from place to place in that kingdom, arrived at a certain little village. Now that village was inhabited for the most part by men who were utter fools. There one day those utter fools of men assembled and took counsel together, saying: “Folks, when we enter the forest and do our work, the mosquitoes eat us up, and because of this our work is interrupted. Let us, every one, take bows and weapons, go and fight with the mosquitoes, pierce and cut all the mosquitoes, and thus make way with them.” They went to the forest with the thought in their minds, “We’ll pierce the mosquitoes.” But they pierced and hit one another and came to grief, and on their return, lay down within the boundaries of the village, in the village-square, and at the village-gate.
The Teacher, surrounded by the Congregation of Monks, entered that village for alms. The rest of the inhabitants, being wise men, seeing the Exalted One, erected a pavilion at the village-gate, gave abundant alms to the Congregation of Monks presided over by the Buddha, saluted the Teacher, and sat down. The Teacher, seeing wounded men lying here and there, asked those lay disciples: “Here are many men who are in a bad way. What have they done?” “Reverend Sir, these men started out with the thought in their minds, ‘We’ll have a fight with the mosquitoes.’ But they pierced one another and returned themselves the worse for wear.” Said the Teacher: “Not only in their present state of existence have utter fools of men, with the thought in their minds, ‘We’ll hit mosquitoes,’ hit themselves; in a previous state of existence also they were the very men who, with the thought in their minds, ‘We’ll hit a mosquito,’ hit something very different.” Then, in response to a request of those men, he related the following Story of the Past:
In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha made his living by trading. At that time, in the kingdom of Kāsi, in a certain frontier village, dwelt many carpenters. There a certain grey-haired carpenter was planing a tree. Now a mosquito settled on his head,—his head looked like the surface of a copper bowl!—and pierced his head with his stinger, just as though he were sticking him with a spear. Said he to his son who sat beside him: “Son, a mosquito is stinging me on the head,—it feels just as if he were sticking me with a spear! Shoo him away!” “Father, wait a moment! I’ll kill him with a single blow!”
At that time the Future Buddha also, seeking wares for himself, having reached that village, was sitting in that carpenter’s hut. Well, that carpenter said to his son: “Shoo this mosquito off!” “I’ll shoo him off, father!” replied the son. Taking his stand immediately behind his father, the son, with the thought in his mind, “I’ll hit the mosquito!” raised aloft a big, sharp axe, and split the skull of his father in two. The carpenter died on the spot. The Future Buddha, seeing what the son had done, thought: “Even an enemy, if he be a wise man, is better; for an enemy, though it be from fear of human vengeance, will not kill.” And he uttered the following stanza:
Better an enemy with sense
Than a friend without it,
For with the words, “I’ll kill a mosquito!”
A son,—both deaf and dumb!—
Split his father’s skull!