Dzanecka resolved to devote himself to trade, and acquire thereby ample means to reconquer one day the throne of his ancestors. With a part of the treasure his mother had brought with her, he was in a position to fit out a ship in company with several other merchants. He resolved to sail for a place called Caumawatoura. He had scarcely been at sea two days when a mighty storm came on. The vessel, after having held out some time against the roaring and raging billows, at last gave way, and was broken in pieces. All the crew and passengers, amounting to 700, miserably perished in the sea, without making the least effort to save themselves. Our Phralaong, on the contrary, seizing the extremity of a log of wood, swam with all his strength, resolved to struggle to the last against adversity. Mighty were his efforts for several days. At last a daughter of Nats, whose duty it was to watch over the sea, saw his generous and courageous behaviour, took pity on him, and came to his assistance. There followed a sort of dialogue between her and Dzanecka. The latter displayed his undaunted courage and firm purpose. The former admired the more his determined resolution. She resolved to save him from the dangerous position. Taking him in her arms, she carried him, according to his wishes, to the country of Mitila, in the garden of mango-trees, and placed him on the very table-stone where his ancestors were wont to enjoy themselves with a numerous retinue. Phralaong immediately fell asleep. The daughter of Nats, having enjoined the Nat, guardian of the place, to watch over the prince, returned to her blissful seat.
On the very day that the vessel was wrecked the ruler of Mitila died, leaving one daughter, named Thiwalee. Previous to his giving up the ghost and ascending to the seats of Nats, the king had ordered his ministers into his presence, and enjoined on them to select for the husband of his daughter a man remarkable for the beauty and strength of his body, as well as by the acuteness and penetration of his mind. He was to be able to bend and unbend an enormous bow, a feat which the united efforts of a thousand soldiers could scarcely achieve, and find the place where he had concealed sixteen golden cups. On the seventh day after his death, the ministers and pounhas began to deliberate among themselves about the choice of a match worthy of the princess. Several competitors offered themselves for the hand of Thiwalee, but they were all rejected. At last, not knowing what to do, they resolved to leave to chance the solution of the difficulty. They sent out a charmed chariot, convinced that by the virtue inherent in it they would find out the fortunate man whose destinies were to be united to those of the princess. The chariot was sent out attended by soldiers, musicians, pounhas, and noblemen. It came straight forward to the mango-trees garden, and stopped by the side of the table-stone Phralaong was sleeping upon. The pounhas, on inspecting the hands and feet of the stranger, saw unmistakable signs foreshowing his elevation to the royal dignity. They awakened him by the sound of musical instruments, saluted him king, and begged of him to put on the royal dress, mount on the chariot, and proceed triumphantly to the royal city. He entered the palace through the eastern gate. Having been informed of the king’s last intentions, he forthwith bent and unbent the bow, found out the sixteen golden cups, and was duly united to the beautiful and youthful Thiwalee. All the people showed signs of the greatest rejoicings; the rich made him all sorts of offerings; the pounhas in white costume, holding the sacred white shell, adorned with flowers and filled with water, with their bodies bent forward, poured respectfully the water, imploring blessings on the new monarch.
When the rejoicings were over, the king rewarded the pounha Pamaouka, who had been as a father to him during his exile. He applied himself to do as much good as he could in relieving the poor, and promoting the welfare of all. He delighted in mentioning to his courtiers his misfortune, and the great efforts he had made to extricate himself from difficulties. He praised the reward which attended generous efforts, and exhorted them never to flinch under difficulties, but always to exhibit a strong and unconquerable resolution under all trials, because it must sooner or later be crowned with success.
During the 7000 years that he reigned over Mitila with the queen Thiwalee, he faithfully practised the observances of the law, governed justly, fed the Rahans and Pitzega-buddhas, and gave abundant alms to the poor.
On the 10th month Thiwalee was delivered of a son, whom they called Digaout. On a certain day, the king, having received from his gardener some mangoes full of flavour and beauty, wished to go to the garden to see the tree that yielded such delicious fruits. When he arrived at the place, he saw two mango-trees, one with a luxuriant foliage, but without fruits, the other loaded with fruits. The monarch approached the tree, riding his elephant, and plucked some mangoes, which he ate and found delicious. Thence he proceeded further to inspect the other parts of the extensive garden. The courtiers and the people that followed plucked fruits from the same tree, and did it with such eagerness that they left neither fruits nor leaves on the tree.
On his return the king was surprised to see the fruitful tree destitute of both leaves and fruits, whilst the barren one had a beautiful appearance. The monarch, after a lengthened dialogue with his courtiers, concluded as follows: “The riches of this world are never without enemies; he who possesses them resembles the fruitful mango-tree. We must look out for goods that excite neither envy, jealousy, nor other passions. The Rahans and Pitzega-buddhas alone possess such riches. I will take a lesson from the barren mango-tree. That I may cut off and eradicate the troubles, vexations, and anxieties of life, I will renounce everything and embrace the profession of Rahan.”
With this idea strongly impressed on his mind, Dzanecka came back to his palace. He forthwith sent for the general of his troops, and directed him to place a strong guard in front of his apartment, and allow no one for four consecutive months to come into his presence, not even the queen, but only him who would bring his daily meal. He gave orders to his ministers to judge with impartiality, agreeably to the law. Having thus arranged everything, he withdrew alone to the upper apartment of his palace. Here follows a stanza in praise of the prince, who had separated from his queen, concubines, and all the pleasures and honours attending royalty.
Dzanecka alone began to meditate on the happiness of the life of pounhas and Pitzega-buddhas; he admired their poor diet, their zeal in practising the observances of the law, their earnest longings after the happiness of Neibban, their disengagement from the ties of passions, the state of inward peace and fixity which their souls enjoyed. In his enthusiasm he venerated them with a holy fervour, called them his masters and preceptors, and exclaimed: “Who will teach me to imitate their lives, and help me to become similar to them?” In ten stanzas Dzanecka reviews successively all that had belonged to him, his capital with its stately edifices, fine gates, the three walls and ditches, the beautiful and fertile country of Wintzearitz, the palace with its lofty domes and massive towers, the beautifully ornamented throne, the rich and magnificent royal dresses, the royal garden and tank, the elephants, horses, and chariots, the soldiers, the pounhas, the princes, his queen and concubines. He then concludes each stanza with the following words: “When shall I leave all these things, become poor, put on the humble habit of Rahans, and follow the same mode of a perfectly retired life?” With these and similar reflections Dzanecka endeavoured to sunder one after the other many threads of passions, to pull down successively the branches of the impure tree, until he could give a final stroke to the roots.
At the conclusion of four months’ retirement, Dzanecka sent for a faithful servant, and directed him to procure for him the various articles of the dress of a Rahan. He had his head and beard shaved; put on the cherished habit, and placing a staff in his hand walked out of his apartments, and directed his course towards the gate, with the dignified deportment of a Rahan of sixty years’ profession.