Time passed away. The King died, and the young Prince was crowned. Then the priest began to fear that his former pupil might do him some harm, for he imagined that he had never forgiven him the liberty he had taken in chastising him. So he quitted his retreat, and fled to Prome for safety. Disliking his enforced banishment, he determined to write and crave for pardon; and in the course of his long appeal, written on palm leaves, was the following story:—
"There was a king of Bayanathee, learned and merciful, who had a hundred sons, each of whom, when old enough, was given into the hands of a carefully selected instructor to be taught those subjects for which he had the greatest taste. When each was grown up and had completed his education, he was appointed a governor of a portion of the royal dominions; and so ninety-nine of the Princes had been educated and been presented to the King and received their appointments. Prince Thanwara was the youngest of them, and was taken care of by a distinguished minister, who began and continued his instruction in a way that was very suitable to the quick natural intelligence of the boy; and when the time came for Thanwara to go to his father, his teacher accompanied him.
"When they came before the King—who was seated on a throne of silver and agate, with golden doors behind him—he asked his son if he had learnt and completed the same course of studies as his elder brothers, and the young Prince answered him—
"'I am sufficiently qualified, sire, to take upon me the same duties and responsibilities as those of my brothers who have gone before.'
"The King was satisfied with the reply; and then, after a while, the Prince and his tutor returned to their home.
"Talking to the tutor before he slept, Thanwara said—
"'If the King my father offers me the same position as he has bestowed on my brothers, will it be well with me to accept it?'
"The teacher made answer thus—
"'If a man, O Prince, desires to partake of the Bandaya fruit, which only grows in Nirvana, can he obtain it from its tree from the distance of a hundred yujanas (eight hundred miles), or would he rather not stand under the tree and take the fruit with a hooked bamboo? In the same way, if you wish to sit on the throne it is best for you not to go from here, but to remain in the shadow of the palace.'
"The prince listened, and then, when he had heard to the end, he said—