To King Ānanda there were born five sons. The youngest of these, inasmuch as his face resembled a mirror, was named Ādarśamukha or Mirror-face. All five sons grew up. Prince Ādarśamukha was very gentle and modest, but the others were rash, rude, and hot-tempered. Their father called them together one day on a matter of business. The minds of the elder brothers were incapable of deciding the smallest of its points, but Prince Ādarśamukha answered with intelligence the difficult questions which were proposed to him.
Being attacked by illness, King Ānanda considered as to whom he should invest with the sovereign power. “If I invest one of my four elder sons with the power,” he thought, “inasmuch as they are rash, rude, and hot-tempered, misfortunes will unduly increase among men; but if I invest Prince Ādarśamukha with the power, then my kinsmen will reproach me for having passed over my elder sons and given the power to the youngest. It is necessary, therefore, that I should devise some way of escape.”
With that intention he decided in his mind on three [[30]]precious things, and on a recognition by the women, and on six objects to be recognised by insight. Then he said to his ministers, “Give ear, O chieftains! After my death ye are to test each of the princes in turn. Him among them whom the jewel-shoes fit when they are tried on, under whom the throne remains steadfast when he is set upon it, on whom the diadem, rests unshaken when it is placed upon his head, whom the women recognise, and who guesses the six objects to be divined by his insight, namely, the inner treasure, the outer treasure, the inner and outer treasure, the treasure of the tree-top, the treasure of the hill-top, and the treasure of the river shore—him by whom all these conditions are fulfilled shall ye invest with the sovereign power.”
Then, according to the proverb which says that all which has been accumulated dwindles, and all that is high will meet with a fall, he died. Now when the ministers tried to place the jewel-shoes on the feet of the eldest prince, the shoes did not fit. When he was set upon the throne, it moved. When the diadem was placed upon his head, it shook greatly. Moreover the women did not recognise him. And when he was told the names of the six objects which were to be divined by his insight, he did not guess them. The fate of three of his younger brothers was just the same. But when the jewel-shoes were placed upon Prince Ādarśamukha’s feet, they fitted him perfectly. When he was set upon the throne, it remained unmoved. When he was crowned with the diadem, his head looked forth from beneath it proudly. Moreover the women recognised him. Then the ministers said, “Now you must find out the six objects to be divined by insight, namely, the inner treasure, the outer treasure, the inner and outer treasure, the treasure of the tree-top, the treasure of the hill-top, and the treasure of the river shore.” Ādarśamukha replied, “If the question is which is the inner treasure, that is the treasure which is inside the threshold. If the question is which is the outer treasure, [[31]]that is the treasure which is outside the threshold. If the question is which is the treasure of the tree-top, that is the treasure which is at the spot on which the tree planted by the king casts its shadow at midday. If the question is which is the treasure of the hill-top, that is the treasure which is under the stone at the bottom of the tank wherein the king used to take delight. If the question is which is the treasure of the river shore, that is the treasure which is at the end of the channel by which the water flows out of the house.” As all the problems were solved, the ministers made Ādarśamukha king, and he became a mighty monarch.
In a certain place among the hills there lived a Brahman named Daṇḍin, who borrowed a pair of oxen from a householder. After ploughing his land, he went with the oxen to the householder’s dwelling. As the man was at his dinner, the Brahman Daṇḍin let the oxen go to their stall; but they went out again by another door. When the householder arose from his meal and found that the oxen had disappeared, he seized Daṇḍin and asked where the oxen were. Daṇḍin replied, “Did not I bring them back to your house?” “As you have stolen my oxen, give them back to me,” said the other. Daṇḍin replied, “I have not stolen them.” The other said, “King Ādarśamukha is wise. Let us go to him; he will settle this affair for us, separating the right from the wrong.” So they both set out on their way.
A man from whom a mare had run away called out to Daṇḍin to stop it. He asked how he was to stop it. The man told him to do so in any way he could. Daṇḍin picked up a stone and flung it at the mare’s head, the consequence of which was that the mare was killed. The man said, “As you have killed my mare, give me another one.” Daṇḍin said, “Why should I give you a mare?” The man replied, “Come, let us go to King Ādarśamukha; he will settle our business for us.” So they set off to go to him. [[32]]
Daṇḍin tried to run away. As he sprang down from a wall, he fell on a weaver who was at his work below, in consequence of which the weaver died. The weaver’s wife laid hands upon Daṇḍin and demanded that he, as he had killed her husband, should restore him to her. “Where am I to get your husband from for you?” he said. “Come, let us go to King Ādarśamukha,” she replied; “he will settle our business for us.” So they went their way.
About half-way they came to a deep river, which a carpenter was fording, his axe in his mouth. Daṇḍin asked him if the river was deep or shallow. The carpenter, letting his axe drop, said, “The river is deep.” Then, as his axe had fallen into the water, he seized Daṇḍin and said, “You have flung my axe into the water.”
“No, I have not.”
“Come, let us go to King Ādarśamukha; he will settle our business for us.”