Then the Bodisat asked his charioteer, as is told in the Mahāpadāna, “What kind of man is this, whose very hair is not as that of other men?” When he heard his servant’s answer, he said, “Shame then be to life! since the decay of every living being is notorious!” and with agitated heart he turned back at that very spot and re-entered his palace.
The king asked, “Why does my son turn back so hurriedly?”
“He has seen an old man,” they said; “and having seen an old man, he will forsake the world.”
“By this you ruin me,” exclaimed the rāja; “quickly get ready concerts and plays to be performed before my son. So long as he continues in the enjoyment of pleasure, he will not turn his thoughts to forsaking the world!” Then increasing the guards, he placed them at each point of the compass, at intervals of half a league.
Again, one day, when the future Buddha, as he was going to his pleasure ground, saw a sick man represented by the gods, he made the same inquiry as before; and then, with agitated heart, turned back and re-entered his palace. The king also made the same inquiry, and gave the same orders as before; and again increasing the guard, placed them all round at a distance of three-quarters of a league.
Once more, when the future Buddha, as he was going to his pleasure ground, saw a dead man represented by the gods, he made the same inquiry as before; and then, with agitated heart, turned back and re-entered his palace. The king also made the same inquiry, and gave the same orders as before; and again increasing the guard, placed them all round at a distance of a league.
Once again, when the future Buddha, as he was going to his pleasure ground, saw one who had abandoned the world, carefully and decently clad, he asked his charioteer, “Friend, what kind of man is that?” As at that time there was no Buddha at all in the world, the charioteer understood neither what a mendicant was nor what were his distinguishing characteristics; but nevertheless, inspired by the gods, he said, “That is a mendicant friar;” and described the advantages of renouncing the world. And that day the future Buddha, cherishing the thought of renouncing the world, went on to his pleasure ground.
The repeaters of the Dīgha Nikāya,[190] however, say that he saw all the four Omens on the same day, and then went to his pleasure ground. There he enjoyed himself during the day and bathed in the beautiful lake; and at sunset seated himself on the royal resting stone to be robed. Now his attendants brought robes of different colours, and various kinds of ornaments, and garlands, and perfumes, and ointments, and stood around him.
At that moment the throne on which Sakka was seated became warm.[191] And thinking to himself, “Who is it now who wants me to descend from hence?” he perceived that the time for the adornment of the future Buddha had come. And he said to Vissakamma, “Friend Vissakamma, the young noble Siddhattha, to-day, at midnight, will carry out the Great Renunciation. This is the last time he will be clad in splendour. Go to the pleasure ground and adorn him with heavenly array.”
By the miraculous power which angels have, he accordingly, that very moment, drew near in the likeness of the royal barber; and taking from the barber’s hand the material for the turban, he arranged it round the Bodisat’s head. At the touch of his hand the Bodisat knew, “This is no man, it is a son of the gods.” When the first round of the turban was put on, there arose, by the appearance of the jewelry on the diadem, a thousand folds; when the turban was wrapt the second time round, a thousand folds arose again; when ten times, ten thousand folds appeared. How so many folds could seem to rise on so small a head is beyond imagination; for in size the largest of them were as the flower of the Black Priyaŋgu creeper, and the rest even as Kutumbaka blossoms. And the head of the future Buddha became like a Kuyyaka flower in full bloom.