And who keeps his word in all things,
To him belongs this wreath.”
Then the false Priest cried out in a loud voice: “I have attacked no man, good or evil, and never have I broken my word to any.”
The God looked at him sadly, but he placed the wreath upon his brow, and the four divine beings disappeared from the sight of man. But no sooner had they left the earth than the Priest felt a violent pain. His head seemed to be crushed by spikes, and, writhing in agony, he made full confession and begged that the flowers should be removed from his head; but though all pitied his condition, none could remove the flowers, for they seemed to be fastened on with an iron band.
And he called aloud to the Gods, saying
“O ye great powers, forgive my pride and spare my life!” And they answered: “These flowers are not meet for the wicked. You have received the reward of your false words.” Then, having rebuked him in the presence of the people, they removed the flowers from the head of the repentant man and returned to the abode of the Blest.
THE CROW THAT THOUGHT IT KNEW
Once upon a time, while Brahma-datta reigned as king in Benares, the Bodhisatta became a marsh crow, and dwelt by a certain pool. His name was Viraka, the Strong.
There arose a famine in Kasi. Men could not spare food for the crows, nor make offering to goblins and snakes. One by one the crows left the famine-stricken land, and betook them to the woods.