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Jataka 336

Brahāchatta Jātaka

The Rogue Chatta

as told by Eric Van Horn

originally translated by H.T. Francis and R.A. Neil, Cambridge University

originally edited by Professor Edward Byles Cowell, Cambridge University


This story is a bit muddled, but it is about a monk of dubious character. But there is plenty of bad behavior to go around.


Grass is still.” The Master told this story while at Jetavana. It is about a certain rogue. The incident that suggested the story has been already related.


Once upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta became his minister and worldly and spiritual adviser. The King of Benares attacked the King of Kosala with a large army. He went to Sāvatthi, and after a battle he entered the city and took the King prisoner.

Now the King of Kosala had a son, Prince Chatta by name. He escaped in disguise. He went to Takkasilā University where he learned the three Vedas and the eighteen liberal arts (also called the 18 vidhyasthanams). Then he left Takkasilā, and while still studying the practical uses of science, he arrived at a certain border village. In a wood near there, 500 recluses lived in huts of leaves. The Prince approached them, and with the idea of learning something about them, he, too, became a recluse. In so doing he acquired the knowledge they had to impart. Bye and bye he became the leader of that community of disciples.

One day he addressed his company of holy men and asked them, “Sirs, why do you not go to the central region?”

“Sir,” they said, “in the central region there are said to be wise men. They pose one with questions, call upon one to return thanks and to repeat a form of blessing, and to reprove the incompetent. And therefore we are afraid to go there.”

“Fear not,” he said, “I will manage all this for you.”

“Then we will go,” they said.

And all of them took their various requisites and in due course reached Benares.

Now the King of Benares, having absorbed the kingdom of Kosala into his possession, set up loyal officials as governors. And having collected all their available treasure, he returned with his spoil to Benares. He filled iron pots with it and buried them in the royal garden, and then he continued to live there.

The holy men spent the night in the King’s garden, and on the next day, they went into the city to beg for alms. They came to the door of the palace. The King was so charmed with their conduct that he called out to them. He had them sit on the dais and gave them rice and cakes. He asked them many questions. Chatta won the King’s heart by answering all his questions, and at the end of the meal, he offered various forms of thanksgiving. The King was even more pleased. He got them to promise that they would all stay in his garden.

Now Chatta knew a spell for bringing to light buried treasure. And so, while living there he thought, “Where can this fellow have put the money that belonged to my father?” So he repeated the spell, and he discovered that it was buried in the garden. Thinking that with this money he could recover his kingdom, he addressed the recluses and said, “Sirs, I am the son of the King of Kosala. When our kingdom was seized by the King of Benares, I escaped in disguise. So far I have saved my life. But now I have found the property that belonged to my family. With this I will go and recover my kingdom. What will you do?”

“We will go with you, too,” they replied.

“Agreed,” he said.

He had some big leather sacks made, and at night they dug a hole in the ground and pulled out the treasure pots. They put the money into the sacks and filled the treasure pots with grass. Then he ordered the 500 holy men and some others to carry the money, and they all fled to Sāvatthi. There he had all the King’s officers seized. He recovered his kingdom, restored the walls, watch-towers and other works, and in this way made the city impregnable against the attack of any hostile king.

This news was given to the King of Benares, “The recluses have carried off the treasure from your garden and have fled.” He went to the garden and opened the pots to find only grass in them. Because of his lost treasure, great sorrow fell upon him. He went into the city and wandered about murmuring, “Grass, grass.” No one could ease his grief.

“Grass, grass.”

Figure: “Grass, grass.”

The Bodhisatta thought, “The King is in great distress. He wanders about, idly chattering. Except for me, no one has the power to drive away his sorrow. I will free him from his trouble.” So one day, while sitting quietly with him, the King began to chatter, and he repeated the first stanza:

“Grass” is still your constant cry,

Who did take your grass away?

What’s your need of it, or why

Do you only this word say?

The King, on hearing what he said, replied in a second stanza:

Chatta, holy man of fame,

As it happened this way came,

Him alone to blame I hold,

Substituting grass for gold.

The Bodhisatta, on hearing this, uttered a third stanza:

Canny folk their rule should make,

“Little give and great deal take.”

What he took was all his own,

What he left was grass alone.

On hearing this the King uttered the fourth stanza:

Virtue follows no such rules,

These are morals fit for fools.

Doubtful morals they must be,

Learning too is vanity.

And the King—by these words of the Bodhisatta—was freed from his sorrow and ruled his kingdom righteously.


The Master here ended his lesson and identified the birth: “At that time the scoundrel monk was the great Chatta, and I was the wise minister.”

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