Naḷinikā-Jātaka

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Source: Adapted from Archaic Translation by H.T. Francis
JATAKA No. 526

NALINIKA-JATAKA

"Lo! the land," etc. This story the Master told while residing at Jetavana monastery concerning the temptation of a Brother(Monk) by the wife of his unregenerate days. And in telling the story he asked the Brother by whom he had been led astray. "By a former wife," said he. "Truly, Brother," the Master said, "she works mischief for you. Of old it was owing to her that you fell away from mystic meditation and were mightily destroyed." And so saying he told a story of the past.

Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta ruled in Benares, the Bodhisattva was born of a wealthy family in the brahmins of the North, and when he had come of age and had been trained in all the arts, he adopted the ascetic life, and after developing supernatural powers by the exercise of mystic meditation he took up his dwelling in the Himalayas. Exactly in the same way as told in the (*1)Alambusa Birth a doe conceived by him and brought on a son who was called Isisinga. Now when he was grown up, his father admitted him to holy orders(asceticism) and had him instructed in the rites inducing mystic meditation. In no long time he developed by this means supernatural faculties and enjoyed the bliss of ecstacy (trance) in the region of the Himalayas, and by mortification of the senses he became a sage of such severe austerity that the dwelling of Sakka(Indra) was shaken by the power of his virtue. Sakka(Indra), with insight, discovered the cause of it, and thinking, "I will find a way to break down his virtue," for the space of three years he stopped rain from falling in the kingdom of Kasi, and the country became as it were scorched up, and when no crops came to perfection, the people under the stress of famine gathered themselves together in the palace yard and rebuked the king. Taking his stand at an open window, he asked what was the matter. "Your Majesty," they said, "for three years no rain has fallen from heaven, and the whole kingdom is burned up and the people are suffering greatly: cause rain to fall, Sire." The king, taking upon him moral vows and observing a fast, yet failed to bring down the rain. It was then that Sakka(Indra) at midnight entered the royal chamber and illuminating it all round was seen to stand in mid air. The king on seeing him asked, "Who are you?" "I am Sakka(Indra)," he said. "For which reason are you come?" "Does rain fall in your realm, Sire?" "No, it does not rain." "Do you know why it does not rain?" "I do not know." "In the Himalaya country, Sire, dwells an ascetic named Isisinga, who from the mortification of his senses is severely austere. He constantly, when it begins to rain, looks up at the sky in a rage and so the rain ceases." "What then is to be done now?" "Should his virtue be broken down, it will rain." "But who is able to overcome his virtue?" "Your daughter, Sire, Nalinika can do it. Summon her here and ask her to go to such and such a place and make a breach in the virtue of the ascetic." And, having thus advised the king, Sakka(Indra) returned to his own dwelling. On the next day the king took advice with his courtiers and summoning his daughter addressed her in the first stanza:

Lo! the land lies scorched and ruined and my realm sinks to decay: Go, Nalinika, and, please, bring this brahmin under your sway.

On hearing this she repeated a second stanza:

How shall I endure this hardship, how, midst elephants astray, Through the glades of the forest shall I safely guide my way?

Then the king repeated two stanzas:

Seek your happy home, my daughter, and from there without delay In a chariot of wood so deftly framed ride you upon your way.

Horses, elephants, and footmen--go, worn with brave dress, And with charm of beauty quickly you shall bring him under your sway.

Thus for the protection of his realm did he talk with his daughter even of such things as should not be spoken of in words. And she readily lent an ear to his proposals. Then, after giving her all that she required, he sent her away with his ministers. They went to the frontier and, after pitching their camp there, they had the princess conveyed by a road pointed out to them by some foresters, and at break of day, entering the Himalaya country, they arrived at a spot close to the ascetic's hermitage. At this very moment the Bodhisattva, leaving his son behind in the hermitage, had gone into the forest to gather wild fruits. The foresters themselves approached the hermitage and, standing where they could see it, they pointed it out to Nalinika and repeated two stanzas:

With plantain noticed, midst bhurja trees so green, Lo! Isisinga's pretty hut is seen.

The smoke, I think, arises from the flame Nursed by that sage of wonder-working fame.

And the king's ministers at the very moment when the Bodhisattva had gone into the forest surrounded the hermitage and set a watch over it, and making the princess adopt the disguise of an ascetic, and dressing her in an outer and inner garment of beautiful bark adorned with all manner of ornaments, they asked her to take in her hand a painted ball tied to a string and sent her into the hermitage grounds, while they themselves stood on guard outside. So playing with her ball she entered the enclosure. Now at that moment Isisinga was seated on a bench at the door of his hut of leaves, and when he saw her coming he was terrified and got up and went and hid himself in the hut. And she came near to the door and continued playing with her ball.

The Master, to make this point and more beside clear, repeated these stanzas:

Decorated with gems as she came near, a bright and lovely maid, Poor Isisinga looked for in fear his cell's protecting shade.

And while before the hermit's door with ball the girl plays, Her lovely limbs she did expose all naked to his gaze.

But when he saw her sporting thus, on from his cell he broke, And, rushing from the leafy hut, words such as these he spoke.

Fruit of what tree may this, Sir, be, that however far it is tossed It will still return to you again and never more is lost?

Then she telling him of the tree spoke this stanza:

Mount Gandhamadana, the home in which I dwell, can boast Of many a tree with fruit maybe such that though far it is tossed, It will still return to me again and never more is lost.

Thus did she speak falsely, but he believed her, and thinking it was an ascetic he greeted her kindly and uttered this stanza:

Please, holy sir, come in and take a seat, Accept some food and water for your feet, And resting here for some time enjoy with me Such roots and berries as I offer you.

(*2) Being an ingenuous youth and never having seen a woman before he was led to believe the extraordinary story she told him, and through her seductions his virtue was overcome and his mystic meditation(trance) broken off. After enjoying himself with her till he was tired, he at length swiftly moved on and finding his way down to the tank he bathed and, when his fatigue had passed off, he returned and sat in his hut. And once more, still believing her to be an ascetic, he asked where she lived, and spoke this stanza:

By what road here have you come, And do you love your woodland home? Can roots and berries hunger stay, And how escap'st you beasts of prey?

Then Nalinika recited four stanzas:

North of this the Khema flows Straight from Himalayan snows: On its bank, a charming spot, May be seen my hermit cot.

Mango, tilak, sal full-grown, Cassia, trumpet-flower full-blown-- All with song of elves reverberate: Here my home, Sir, may be found.

Here with dates and roots, I think, Every kind of fruit is seen: It is a bright-colored and fragrant spot That has fallen to my lot.

Roots and berries here many, Sweet and fair and delicious found. But I fear, should robbers come, They'll plunder my happy home.

The ascetic, on hearing this, to put her off till his father should return, spoke this stanza:

My father searching for fruit is gone; The sun is sinking, he'll be here soon. When back front his fruit-gathering he is come, We'll start together foryour hermit-home.

Then she thought: "This boy because he has been brought up in a forest does not know that I am a woman, but his father will know it as soon as ever he sees me, and will ask me what business I have here and striking me with the end of his carrying-pole, he will break my head. I must be off before he returns and the object of my coming is already accomplished," and telling him how he was to find his way to her house she repeated another stanza:

Alas! I fear I may no longer stay, But many a royal saint lives on the way: Ask one of them to point you out the road; He'll gladly act as guide to my dwelling.

When she had thus devised a plan for her escape, she left the hermitage, and asking the youth, as he was wistfully looking after her, to stay where he was, she returned to the ministers by the same road by which she had come there, and they took her with them to their encampment and by several stages reached Benares. And Sakka(Indra) that very day was so delighted that he caused rain to fall throughout the whole kingdom. But directly she had left the ascetic, Isisinga, a fever seized upon his frame and all of a tremble he entered the hut of leaves and putting on his upper robe of bark he lay there groaning. In the evening his father returned and missing his son he said, "Where in the world is he gone?" And he put down his carrying-pole and went into the hut, and when he found him lying there he said, "What ails you, my dear son?" And touching his back he uttered three stanzas:

No wood is cut, no water fetched, no fire alight. I request Tell me, you silly boy, why thus you dream the live-long day.

Until to-day the wood was ever cut, The fire alight, and pot on that was put, My seat arranged, the water fetched. In truth You found your happiness in the task, good youth.

To-day no wood is split, no water brought, No fire alight; cooked food is desired in futility. To-day no welcome have you given to me: What have you lost? What sorrow troubles you?

On hearing his father's words, in explaining the matter, he said:

Here, Sire, to-day a holy youth has been, A handsome, elegant boy, of charming appearance: Not over tall nor yet too short was he, Dark was his hair, as black as black could be.

Smooth-cheeked and beardless was this boyish creature, And on his neck was hung a jewel bright; Two lovely swellings on his fair breast lay, Like balls of polished gold, of purest ray.

His face was wonderful fair, and from each ear A curved ring depending did appear; These and the fillet on his head gave out Flashes of light, whenever he moved about.

Yet other ornaments the youth did wear, Or blue or red, upon his dress and hair; Jingling, whenever he moved, they rang again Like little birds (*3) that chirp in time of rain.

No robe of bark, sign of ascetic grim, No waist belt made of munja grass for him. His garments shimmer, clinging to the thigh, Bright as a flash of lightning in the sky.

Fruits of what tree beneath his waist are bound, --Smooth and without or stalk or prickle found--? Stitched in his robe, in order loose but thick, They strike each other with a sounding "click."

The tresses on his head were wonderful fair, Hundreds of curls perfuming all the air: These locks just parted in the midst had he-- Dressed even as his would that my hair might be.

But when his locks he did by some chance unbind And loose in all their beauty to the wind, Their fragrance filled our home midst forest trees, Like scent of lotus carried along the breeze.

His very dust was fair to look upon, His person quite unlike that ofyour son: It breathed on odours wafted everywhere, Like shrubs ablossom in the summer air.

His fruit so bright and fair, of varied color, Afar from him upon the ground he throw, Yet back to him it would always return: What fruit it is I gladly from you would learn.

His teeth in even rows, so pure and white, Compete with the choicest pearls, a lovely sight; Whenever he opes his lips, how charming it is! No food like ours, roots and foul potherbs, his!

His voice so soft and smooth, yet firm and clear In gentle accents fell upon the ear; It pierced me to the heart: so sweet a note Never issued from melodious cuckoo's throat.

Its tone I thought subdued, pitched far too low For one practicing holy tradition, I think; However--so great his kindness--I would be glad Renew my friendship with this youth again.

His warm arms flashing in their gold dress, Like shining lightning all around me play. With down, as eye-salve soft, were they overspread, Round were his fingers, blushing coral-red.

Smooth were his limbs, his tresses long untied, Long too his nails with tips all crimson dyed: With his soft arms around me clinging tight The fair boy served to my delight.

His hands were white as cotton, shining bright Like golden mirror that reflects the light; At their soft touch I felt a burning thrill, And though he's gone, the memory fires me still.

No load of grain he brought, nor ever could Be won with his own hands to chop our wood, Nor would he with his axe cut down a tree Nor carry a sharp stake, to make me happy.

This rumpled couch with leaves of creepers made Bears watched the merry pranks we played: Then in the lake our weary limbs we wash And once more seek indoors the rest we crave.

To-day no holy texts can I recite, No fire for sacrifice is found alight: Yes, from all roots and berries I'll abstain Till I see this pious youth again.

Tell me, dear father, for you know it well, Where in the world this holy youth may dwell; And there with all speed, please, let us fly, Or at your door my death will surely lie.

I've heard him speak of glades, with flowers of bright-color, And crowded with birds that sing the live-long day, It is there with all speed I gladly would fly Or here at once I'll lay me down and die.

The Great Being on hearing the boy talk such nonsense knew at once that through some woman he had lost his virtue, and by way of admonition he repeated six stanzas:

An ancient home for ages long has stood Within the sunlit premises of this wood; In domains of angels and of nymphs divine, This feeling of unrest should never be yours.

Friendships exist and then they cease to be; Each one shows love to his own family; But they poor creatures are who do not know To whom their origin and love they owe.

Friendship is formed by constant interaction; When this is broken, friendship fails unavoidably.

should you set eyes upon this youth once more, Or hold talk with him, as in past, Just as a flood sweeps off the ripened corn, So will the power of virtue be carried over(*4).

Demons there be that through the wide earth run In varied form disguised. Beware, my son! He that is wise should not wife with such; Virtue herself is destroyed (*5) at their touch.

On hearing what his father had to say the youth thought, "She was a female yakkha(demon), he says," and he was terrified and put away the thought of her from him. Then he asked his father's pardon, saying, "Forgive me, dear father, I will not leave this spot." And his father comforted him, saying, "Come, my boy, cultivate charity, pity, sympathy and equanimity," and he proclaimed to him the attainment of the Perfect States. And the son walked accordingly in that and once more developed mystic meditation(Trance).

The Master, having finished his lesson, revealed the Truths and identified the Birth:-At the conclusion of the Truths the back-sliding Brother(Monk) was established in the fruition of the First Path(Trance):-"At that time the wife of his unregenerate days was Nalinika, the back-sliding Brother was Isisinga, and I myself was the father."

Footnotes:

(1)No. 523.

(2)Nalinika, pretending she has been wounded by a bear, practises on the simplicity of the ascetic youth

(3)ciritaka is found as the name of a bird in Caraka,

(4)The fifth stanza is a repetition of the preceding one

(5)Reading, nassati.