The prince, greatly agitated and moved, asked his charioteer another question and said, "Is yonder man the only one afflicted with age, or shall I, and others also, be such as he?" The charioteer again replied and said, "Your highness also inherits this lot: as time goes on, the form itself is changed, and this must doubtless come, beyond all hindrance. The youthful form must wear the garb of age, throughout the world, this is the common lot."
Bodhisattva, who had long prepared the foundation of pure and spotless wisdom, broadly setting the root of every high quality, with a view to gather large fruit in his present life, hearing these words respecting the sorrow of age, was afflicted in mind, and his hair stood upright. Just as the roll of the thunder and the storm alarm and put to flight the cattle, so was Bodhisattva affected by the words; shaking with apprehension, he deeply sighed; constrained at heart because of the pain of age; with shaking head and constant gaze, he thought upon this misery of decay; what joy or pleasure can men take, he thought, in that which soon must wither, stricken by the marks of age; affecting all without exception; though gifted now with youth and strength, yet not one but soon must change and pine away. The eye beholding such signs as these before it, how can it not be oppressed by a desire to escape? Bodhisattva then addressed his charioteer: "Quickly turn your chariot and go back. Ever thinking on this subject of old age approaching, what pleasures now can these gardens afford, the years of my life like the fast-flying wind; turn your chariot, and with speedy wheels take me to my palace." And so his heart keeping in the same sad tone, he was as one who returns to a place of entombment; unaffected by any engagement or employment, so he found no rest in anything within his home.
The king hearing of his son's sadness urged his companions to induce him again to go abroad, and forthwith incited his ministers and attendants to decorate the gardens even more than before. The Deva then caused himself to appear as a sick man; struggling for life, he stood by the wayside, his body swollen and disfigured, sighing with deep-drawn groans; his hands and knees contracted and sore with disease, his tears flowing as he piteously muttered his petition. The prince asked his charioteer, "What sort of man, again, is this?"
Replying, he said, "This is a sick man. The four elements all confused and disordered, worn and feeble, with no remaining strength, bent down with weakness, looking to his fellow-men for help." The prince hearing the words thus spoken, immediately became sad and depressed in heart, and asked, "Is this the only man afflicted thus, or are others liable to the same calamity?" In reply he said, "Through all the world, men are subject to the same condition; those who have bodies must endure affliction, the poor and ignorant, as well as the rich and great." The prince, when these words met his ears, was oppressed with anxious thought and grief; his body and his mind were moved throughout, just as the moon upon the ruffled tide. "Placed thus in the great furnace of affliction, say! what rest or quiet can there be! Alas! that worldly men, blinded by ignorance and oppressed with dark delusion, though the robber sickness may appear at any time, yet live with blithe and joyous hearts!" On this, turning his chariot back again, he grieved to think upon the pain of sickness. As a man beaten and wounded sore, with body weakened, leans upon his staff, so dwelt he in the seclusion of his palace, lone-seeking, hating worldly pleasures.
The king, hearing once more of his son's return, asked anxiously the reason why, and in reply was told—"he saw the pain of sickness." The king, in fear, like one beside himself, roundly blamed the keepers of the way; his heart constrained, his lips spoke not; again he increased the crowd of music-women, the sounds of merriment twice louder than aforetime, if by these sounds and sights the prince might be gratified; and indulging worldly feelings, might not hate his home. Night and day the charm of melody increased, but his heart was still unmoved by it. The king himself then went forth to observe everything successively, and to make the gardens even yet more attractive, selecting with care the attendant women, that they might excel in every point of personal beauty; quick in wit and able to arrange matters well, fit to ensnare men by their winning looks; he placed additional keepers along the king's way, he strictly ordered every offensive sight to be removed, and earnestly exhorted the illustrious coachman, to look well and pick out the road as he went. And now that Deva of the Pure abode, again caused the appearance of a dead man; four persons carrying the corpse lifted it on high, and appeared (to be going on) in front of Bodhisattva; the surrounding people saw it not, but only Bodhisattva and the charioteer. Once more he asked, "What is this they carry? with streamers and flowers of every choice description, whilst the followers are overwhelmed with grief, tearing their hair and wailing piteously." And now the gods instructing the coachman, he replied and said, "This is a dead man: all his powers of body destroyed, life departed; his heart without thought, his intellect dispersed; his spirit gone, his form withered and decayed; stretched out as a dead log; family ties broken—all his friends who once loved him, clad in white cerements, now no longer delighting to behold him, remove him to lie in some hollow ditch tomb." The prince hearing the name of Death, his heart constrained by painful thoughts, he asked, "Is this the only dead man, or does the world contain like instances?" Replying thus he said, "All, everywhere, the same; he who begins his life must end it likewise; the strong and lusty and the middle-aged, having a body, cannot but decay and die." The prince was now harassed and perplexed in mind; his body bent upon the chariot leaning-board, with bated breath and struggling accents, stammered thus, "Oh worldly men! how fatally deluded! beholding everywhere the body brought to dust, yet everywhere the more carelessly living; the heart is neither lifeless wood nor stone, and yet it thinks not 'all is vanishing!'" Then turning, he directed his chariot to go back, and no longer waste his time in wandering. How could he, whilst in fear of instant death, go wandering here and there with lightened heart! The charioteer remembering the king's exhortation feared much nor dared go back; straightforward then he pressed his panting steeds, passed onward to the gardens, came to the groves and babbling streams of crystal water, the pleasant trees, spread out with gaudy verdure, the noble living things and varied beasts so wonderful, the flying creatures and their notes melodious; all charming and delightful to the eye and ear, even as the heavenly Nandavana.
[Putting Away Desire]
On the prince entering the garden the women came around to pay him court; and to arouse in him thoughts frivolous; with ogling ways and deep design, each one setting herself off to best advantage; or joining together in harmonious concert, clapping their hands, or moving their feet in unison, or joining close, body to body, limb to limb; or indulging in smart repartees, and mutual smiles; or assuming a thoughtful saddened countenance, and so by sympathy to please the prince, and provoke in him a heart affected by love. But all the women beheld the prince, clouded in brow, and his god-like body not exhibiting its wonted signs of beauty; fair in bodily appearance, surpassingly lovely, all looked upwards as they gazed, as when we call upon the moon Deva to come; but all their subtle devices were ineffectual to move Bodhisattva's heart.
At last commingling together they join and look astonished and in fear, silent without a word. Then there was a Brahmaputra, whose name was called Udâyi (Yau-to-i). He, addressing the women, said, "Now all of you, so graceful and fair, see if you cannot by your combined power hit on some device; for beauty's power is not forever. Still it holds the world in bondage, by secret ways and lustful arts; but no such loveliness in all the world as yours, equal to that of heavenly nymphs; the gods beholding it would leave their queens, spirits and Rishis would be misled by it; why not then the prince, the son of an earthly king? why should not his feelings be aroused? This prince indeed, though he restrains his heart and holds it fixed, pure-minded, with virtue uncontaminated, not to be overcome by power of women; yet of old there was Sundarî (Su-to-li) able to destroy the great Rishi, and to lead him to indulge in love, and so degrade his boasted eminence; undergoing long penance, Gautama fell likewise by the arts of a heavenly queen; Shing-kü, a Rishi putra, practising lustful indulgences according to fancy, was lost. The Brahman Rishi Visvâmitra (Pi-she-po), living religiously for ten thousand years, deeply ensnared by a heavenly queen, in one day was completely shipwrecked in faith; thus those enticing women, by their power, overcame the Brahman ascetics; how much more may ye, by your arts, overpower the resolves of the king's son; strive therefore after new devices, let not the king fail in a successor to the throne; women, though naturally weak, are high and potent in the way of ruling men. What may not their arts accomplish in promoting in men a lustful desire?" At this time all the attendant women, hearing throughout the words of Udâyi, increasing their powers of pleasing, as the quiet horse when touched by the whip, went into the presence of the royal prince, and each one strove in the practice of every kind of art. They joined in music and in smiling conversation, raising their eyebrows, showing their white teeth, with ogling looks, glancing one at the other, their light drapery exhibiting their white bodies, daintily moving with mincing gait, acting the part of a bride as if coming gradually nearer, desiring to promote in him a feeling of love, remembering the words of the great king, "With dissolute form and slightly clad, forgetful of modesty and womanly reserve." The prince with resolute heart was silent and still, with unmoved face he sat; even as the great elephant-dragon, whilst the entire herd moves round him; so nothing could disturb or move his heart, dwelling in their midst as in a confined room. Like the divine Sakra, around whom all the Devîs assemble, so was the prince as he dwelt in the gardens; the maidens encircling him thus; some arranging their dress, others washing their hands or feet, others perfuming their bodies with scent, others twining flowers for decoration, others making strings for jewelled necklets, others rubbing or striking their bodies, others resting, or lying, one beside the other; others, with head inclined, whispering secret words, others engaged in common sports, others talking of amorous things, others assuming lustful attitudes, striving thus to move his heart. But Bodhisattva, peaceful and collected, firm as a rock, difficult to move, hearing all these women's talk, unaffected either to joy or sorrow, was driven still more to serious thought, sighing to witness such strange conduct, and beginning to understand the women's design, by these means to disconcert his mind, not knowing that youthful beauty soon falls, destroyed by old age and death, fading and perishing! This is the great distress! What ignorance and delusion (he reflected) overshadow their minds: "Surely they ought to consider old age, disease, and death, and day and night stir themselves up to exertion, whilst this sharp double-edged sword hangs over the neck. What room for sport or laughter, beholding those monsters, old age, disease, and death? A man who is unable to resort to this inward knowledge, what is he but a wooden or a plaster man, what heart-consideration in such a case! Like the double tree that appears in the desert, with leaves and fruit all perfect and ripe, the first cut down and destroyed, the other unmoved by apprehension, so it is in the case of the mass of men: they have no understanding either!"
At this time Udâyi came to the place where the prince was, and observing his silent and thoughtful mien, unmoved by any desire for indulgence, he forthwith addressed the prince, and said, "The Mahâraga, by his former appointment, has selected me to act as friend to his son; may I therefore speak some friendly words? an enlightened friendship is of three sorts: that which removes things unprofitable, promotes that which is real gain, and stands by a friend in adversity. I claim the name of 'enlightened friend,' and would renounce all that is magisterial, but yet not speak lightly or with indifference. What then are the three sources of advantage? listen, and I will now utter true words, and prove myself a true and sincere adviser. When the years are fresh and ripening, beauty and pleasing qualities in bloom, not to give proper weight to woman's influence, this is a weak man's policy. It is right sometimes to be of a crafty mind, submitting to those little subterfuges which find a place in the heart's undercurrents, and obeying what those thoughts suggest in way of pleasures to be got from dalliance: this is no wrong in woman's eye! even if now the heart has no desire, yet it is fair to follow such devices; agreement is the joy of woman's heart, acquiescence is the substance (the full) of true adornment; but if a man reject these overtures, he's like a tree deprived of leaves and fruits; why then ought you to yield and acquiesce? that you may share in all these things. Because in taking, there's an end of trouble—no light and changeful thoughts then worry us—for pleasure is the first and foremost thought of all, the gods themselves cannot dispense with it. Lord Sakra was drawn by it to love the wife of Gautama the Rishi; so likewise the Rishi Agastya, through a long period of discipline, practising austerities, from hankering after a heavenly queen (Devî), lost all reward of his religious endeavors, the Rishi Brihaspati, and Kandradeva putra; the Rishi Parâsara, and Kavañgara (Kia-pin-ke-lo). All these, out of many others, were overcome by woman's love. How much more then, in your case, should you partake in such pleasant joys; nor refuse, with wilful heart, to participate in the worldly delights, which your present station, possessed of such advantages, offers you, in the presence of these attendants."
At this time the royal prince, hearing the words of his friend Udâyi, so skilfully put, with such fine distinction, cleverly citing worldly instances, answered thus to Udâyi: "Thank you for having spoken sincerely to me; let me likewise answer you in the same way, and let your heart suspend its judgment whilst you listen:—It is not that I am careless about beauty, or am ignorant of the power of human joys, but only that I see on all the impress of change; therefore my heart is sad and heavy; if these things were sure of lasting, without the ills of age, disease, and death, then would I too take my fill of love; and to the end find no disgust or sadness. If you will undertake to cause these women's beauty not to change or wither in the future, then, though the joy of love may have its evil, still it might hold the mind in thraldom. To know that other men grow old, sicken, and die, would be enough to rob such joys of satisfaction; yet how much more in their own case (knowing this) would discontentment fill the mind; to know such pleasures hasten to decay, and their bodies likewise; if, notwithstanding this, men yield to the power of love, their case indeed is like the very beasts. And now you cite the names of many Rishis, who practised lustful ways in life; their cases likewise cause me sorrow, for in that they did these things, they perished. Again, you cite the name of that illustrious king, who freely gratified his passions, but he, in like way, perished in the act; know, then, that he was not a conqueror; with smooth words to conceal an intrigue, and to persuade one's neighbor to consent, and by consenting to defile his mind; how can this be called a just device? It is but to seduce one with a hollow lie—such ways are not for me to practise; or, for those who love the truth and honesty; for they are, forsooth, unrighteous ways, and such a disposition is hard to reverence; shaping one's conduct after one's likings, liking this or that, and seeing no harm in it, what method of experience is this! A hollow compliance, and a protesting heart, such method is not for me to follow; but this I know, old age, disease, and death, these are the great afflictions which accumulate, and overwhelm me with their presence; on these I find no friend to speak, alas! alas! Udâyi! these, after all, are the great concerns; the pain of birth, old age, disease, and death; this grief is that we have to fear; the eyes see all things falling to decay, and yet the heart finds joy in following them; but I have little strength of purpose, or command; this heart of mine is feeble and distraught, reflecting thus on age, disease, and death. Distracted, as I never was before; sleepless by night and day, how can I then indulge in pleasure? Old age, disease, and death consuming me, their certainty beyond a doubt, and still to have no heavy thoughts, in truth my heart would be a log or stone." Thus the prince, for Uda's sake, used every kind of skilful argument, describing all the pains of pleasure; and not perceiving that the day declined. And now the waiting women all, with music and their various attractions, seeing that all were useless for the end, with shame began to flock back to the city; the prince beholding all the gardens, bereft of their gaudy ornaments, the women all returning home, the place becoming silent and deserted, felt with twofold strength the thought of impermanence. With saddened mien going back, he entered his palace.