When his father heard the five hundred sons of ministers speak, while his son remained dumb, he became exceedingly sad. When the ministers remarked this sadness of his, he explained to them that it was his son’s dumbness which was troubling him. The ministers consulted the doctor, who declared that the prince was in perfect health, and was troubled by no complaint, and that he must be acted upon by threats. So King Brahmadatta sent for the executioners, and let them know privately that he was going to hand over the prince to them in the presence of a great assemblage, but that they were not to put him to death. In obedience to the king’s commands, the executioners put the prince in a cart, and took him out of the city. When the prince saw the extent and the wealth of Vārāṇasī, he asked: “Is this city of Vārāṇasī deserted or inhabited?” The executioners took the prince back to his father, to whom they reported the words he had uttered. King Brahmadatta threw his arms around his son and said to him: “O youth, whom ought one to kill? Whom ought one to order to be killed? From whom ought life to be taken? To whom ought a gift to be granted, and what sort of a gift?” To these questions his son made no reply, but remained dumb. Then King Brahmadatta spake again to the executioners, saying, “I deliver unto you this prince, do ye carry him away.” The executioners again, in obedience to the king’s commands, set the prince [[249]]in a cart and conveyed him out of the city. The prince saw four men carrying a corpse, and said, “Is this corpse that of a dead man or of a living man?” Again did the executioners take the prince back to his father, and repeat the words which he had uttered. King Brahmadatta folded his son in his arms, and put the same questions to him as before. But again did the son make no reply, persisting in his silence. The king then renewed his orders to the executioners to carry away the prince. When they had set him in a cart and conveyed him out of the city, the prince espied a great heap of grain, and said, “If this heap of grain were not continually devoured at its base, it would become great.” Again did the executioners take the prince back to the king, and report the words which he had spoken. The king once more repeated the questions he had asked before, but his son left them unanswered. Then said King Brahmadatta to the executioners, “I deliver unto you the prince, go, bury him in a hole in the forest.” In obedience to the king’s commands, the executioners set the prince on a cart, took him into the forest, and there set to work to dig a hole. Then spake the prince the following śloka:
“Wherefore, O waggon-driver, dost thou deliberately dig a hole? Wherefore do ye dig a hole? Answer the question quickly.”
The waggon-driver replied, “Because the king’s son, dumb and a cripple from birth, does not speak, therefore will he soon, according to our commands, be put into the hole in the forest.”
Then was the prince horrified at the thought that the cruel, red-handed, life-destroying executioners, men familiar with blows and deathstrokes, producers of fear by executions, should now proceed to kill him also, and he said, “If the king will grant me the fulfilment of one wish, I will go to the city on foot, and moreover I will speak.” The executioners went to the king and told him [[250]]all that had occurred. The king said, “If the prince wishes for the sovereignty, that also will I yield to him.” Joyfully did he give orders to the ministers to clear the city with all speed of stones, and to provide incense, perfumes, flags, standards, and flowers of all kinds. The ministers carried out the king’s commands, and many hundreds of thousands of people crowded together in order to witness the entry of the prince, and to hear him speak. The prince entered the city on foot, and when he came to where the king was, he showed him reverence, and said in ślokas—
“I am neither dumb nor crippled, I am neither dull nor senseless. With clear words am I able to speak, O prince of men. I am neither dumb nor crippled, I am neither dull nor senseless. Sound and clear and bright is my mind, O prince of men!”
When the king asked him why he had not spoken before, and why he had not used his legs, he replied—
“Hearken unto me, O king! In a former life I reigned as a king for sixty years, and then for sixty thousand years I suffered incessant tortures in hell. Remembering those terrible pangs, I do not wish to reign again, and therefore I beseech you, O my father, to allow me to renounce the world.”
The father replied, “But, my son, it is for the sake of supremacy that the Rishis undertake penance and offer sacrifice. Wherefore will you, my son, give up that which is in your hands, and renounce the world?”
The prince replied that he did not wish to live in enjoyment, which is provocative of discord and contest, and that he preferred a life of penance; the former resembled the Kimpāka fruit, the latter possessed the Amṛita flavour. The king observed that the royal power guaranteed the enjoyment of all good things, and asked why he wished to give up the throne, and take to the ascetic life. The son replied that we ought to consider [[251]]that as true pleasure from which pain ensues, and should in like manner esteem that as pain from which pleasure ensues, and that his father ought to allow him to go into the forest of penance. The king represented to him all the comforts of life in the palace, with incense, and odorous powders and flowers, with repose, free from all perils, on a soft couch, with awaking to the sound of music, with soft clothing, and savoury food and drink. On the other hand, he brought before his eyes the life of penance in the forest, the resting on leaves spread under a tree, amid all sorts of dangers, among wild gazelles, the awaking to the sound of the jackal’s howl, the raiment of bark, the nourishment composed of roots and fruits, and the tepid, turbid water. The son replied that it would be better to live in the forest with raiment of bark, and roots and fruits for food, and wild gazelles as companions, that the wise prefer all this to a sovereignty, the characteristics of which are killing, binding, and smiting, and which is accompanied by danger with respect to the life to come; and that his father ought therefore to allow him to go into the forest of penance. The king said, “O son! answer these three questions of mine. Then you may renounce the world. When you saw the wealth and the extent of Vārāṇasī, you asked, ‘Is Vārāṇasī deserted, or is the city inhabited?’ For what reason did you say this?”
“Hear, O king, wherefore I said that. It was because, when you had condemned me to death without any cause, no one ventured to put the direct question as to how that came about.”