A little before that time Rājyābhinanda had been attacked by a malady of which, in spite of the efforts of the physicians, he could not be cured. He succumbed to it, and thereby was the reigning family brought to an end.
Now it was part of the royal statutes that until a new king had been chosen the corpse of the late king could not be honoured with funeral ceremonies. Accordingly the ministers, the other officials of the court, the Brahmans, and the interpreters of signs, set out to look for a person distinguished by the force of his virtuous merits. Under a tree outside the city, a tree the shadow of which never moved from his body, they found an extremely handsome youth with a lion-like breast. When the six ministers had looked at him, they exclaimed in astonishment, “Never have we seen any one who equalled this man in force of virtuous merit. As he is extremely handsome, and is well provided with signs, we will invest him with the sovereignty.” Having thus spoken, and having agreed thereupon, they aroused him from his sleep. He awoke and asked, “Why must I get up?” They replied, “In order to be [[132]]proclaimed king.” He said, “Ought a slumbering king to be awakened in this manner?” The ministers said, “How then ought he to be awakened?” The youth replied, “He ought to be awakened with song and cymbals and beat of drum.” On hearing this, they came to the conclusion that he truly sprang, not from an inferior, but from a noble family, and they asked him, “Who are you? whose noble son are you?” Then the youth rose up lion-like and said, “Annapāna was the son of Janaka, king of Videha, and I am Annapāna’s son, Bahvannapāna.” Thereupon the six ministers smiled and said, “We have actually lighted upon our own prince.”
In the midst of a great multitude, with conjurations, and with song and cymbals and beat of drum, they conducted him into the city, and there they consecrated him as king. As the extinct royal family was renewed in him, he also received the name of Janaka, and his former name of Bahvannapāna fell into disuse. After they had thus invested him with the sovereignty, they came to the conclusion that he was of a simple nature, and they despised him to such a degree that he had no power at all.
King Bahvannapāna once went forth in order to inspect his realm. Whenever he asked to whom villages, towns, and hill-places belonged, he was always told that they belonged to the six ministers. Thereupon he perceived that he could command only food and clothing, but that beyond that he had no power. When he had plunged into a sea of thought, trying to think out what he should do, a deity consoled him, saying that he ought not to be sorrowful. In his own country, in the hill-village Pūrṇakatshtshha, a son named Mahaushadha was about to be born to the head-man, Pūrṇa. This son he ought to make his minister, who would gain possession of the realm and restore it to him, and turn out fortunate [[133]]and advantageous to him. The king sent forth men to seek out this Pūrṇa, and to learn whether his wife had a son or not. The men returned with the information that the village head-man really existed, and that his wife was with child. Then the king wrote to him and made him come to him, conferred upon him the village, and bade him henceforth carefully watch over the child, which was as yet in its mother’s womb, so that none of its limbs might suffer any injury. When the boy came into the world and his birth-feast was celebrated, the name of Mahaushadha (Great Remedy) was given to him at the request of his mother, inasmuch as she, who had long suffered from illness, and had been unable to obtain any relief from the time of the boy’s conception, had been cured by him.
As the boy was sitting on his father’s shoulder one day, and was being carried for a bath from the middle of the street to a tank, the father saw a piece of fish lying before him. Taking it for a precious stone, he tried to lift it up with his toes. Then said Mahaushadha, “Dear father Pūrṇa, you think that a precious stone has been dropped here. Gazing with open eyes at the piece of fish, you fancy that it is a precious stone. Test it, dear father Pūrṇa. It is no precious stone; only a piece of red fish crushed underfoot. Vaiśravaṇa[3] is not accustomed to be so careless.”
When they had come to the tank, and Pūrṇa and Mahaushadha had laid their clothes on the bank and had gone into the water to bathe, the father wanted to lay hold of a crane which was resting on a lotus, but when he drew near the bird flew away. Then Mahaushadha said, “From the lotus flew the crane away. The crane flew away, the lotus remained. Only see, father dear, how the crane flies away from the lotus.” [[134]]
On another occasion the father went to the river Ganges to bathe, carrying his son as before on his shoulder. When they had left their clothes on the shore and had gone into the water, they saw a metal basin floating on the water with a goose sitting upon it. Then said Mahaushadha, “The river Ganges supports the metal basin, on the metal basin rests a goose. Look, O father dear, at the metal basin with the goose carried along by the river Ganges.”
Another time, when Mahaushadha had gone to the shore to bathe, he saw how a pot, on which was a water-hen, was borne along by the current of the river Ganges. Then he said, “The river Ganges bears along the pot, on the pot sits a water-hen. Only look, father dear, at the pot with the water-hen and the Ganges.”
Again, on another occasion, he saw a ram carried along by the current of the river Ganges with a heron standing upon it, and he said, “The river Ganges bears along a ram, and likewise the heron which stands upon it. Look, father dear, at the ram and the heron borne along by the river Ganges.”