Kharaputta Jātaka

Once upon a time when a King named Senaka was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was Sakka (lord of the devas). King Senaka was friendly with a certain nāga king. (Nāgas are semi-divine beings that are half human and half cobra.) This nāga king, they say, left the nāga world and roamed the earth looking for food. The village boys saw him and said, “This is a snake,” and they struck him with rocks and other things. King Senaka, who had gone to amuse himself in the garden, saw them. The boys told him that they were beating a snake, and the King said, “Don't beat him,” and he drove the boys away.” So the nāga king’s life was spared.

When he went back to the nāga world, he gathered many jewels. He went to the King’s bedchamber at midnight and gave them to him, saying, “I kept my life through you.” In this way he made a friendship with the King.

He went to see the King many times. He appointed one of his nāga girls to be near the King and to protect him. And he gave the King a charm, saying, “If ever you do not see her, repeat this charm.”

One day the King went to the garden with the nāga girl. He was enjoying himself in the lotus pool. The nāga girl saw a water snake. She abandoned her human shape and made love with him. The King—not seeing the girl—said, “Where has she gone?” He repeated the spell. It was then that he saw her in her mischief, and he hit her with a piece of bamboo.

She stormed off in anger to the nāga world, and when she was asked, “Why are you here?” she said, “Your friend struck me on the back because I did not do his bidding.” Then she showed the wound from the blow. The nāga king, not knowing what had happened, called four nāga youths. He sent them with orders to enter Senaka’s bed chamber and destroy him like garbage using the breath of their nostrils.

They entered the chamber at the royal bed time. As they came in, the King was saying to the Queen, “Lady, do you know where the nāga girl has gone?” “King, I do not,” she replied. “Today when we were bathing in the tank, she abandoned her human form and made love to a water snake. I said, ‘Don't do that,’ and I hit her with a piece of bamboo to teach her a lesson. Now I fear she may have gone to the nāga world and told some lie to my friend, destroying our good will together.”

The young nāgas—hearing this—turned back at once to the nāga world. They told their king what they had heard. He was very moved, and he went instantly to the King’s chamber. He told the King that all was forgiven. Then be said, “In this way I will make amends.” He gave the King a charm that gave him knowledge of all sounds. “This, oh King, is a priceless spell. If you give anyone this spell you will at once burst into flames and die.” The King said, “It is well,” and he accepted it.

From that time on he understood the speech even of ants. One day he was sitting on the dais eating solid food with honey and molasses, and a drop of honey, a drop of molasses, and a morsel of cake fell on the ground. An ant—seeing this—ran up crying, “The King’s honey jar is broken on the dais. His molasses cart and cake cart are upset. Come and eat honey and molasses and cake!”

The King heard all this and he laughed. The Queen, who was sitting next to him, thought, “What does the King see that makes him laugh?” When the King had eaten his food and bathed and sat down cross-legged, a fly said to his wife, “Come, lady, let us make love.” She said, “Let us wait for a little, husband. Soon they will be bringing perfumes to the King. When he perfumes himself some powder falls at his feet. I will stay there and become fragrant, then we will enjoy ourselves lying on the King’s back.” The King heard this and he laughed again. The Queen thought again, “What has he seen that makes him laugh?”

Later when the King was eating his supper, a lump of rice fell on the ground. The ants cried, “A wagon of rice has broken in the King’s palace, and there is no one to eat it!” The King—hearing this—laughed again. The Queen reflected, “Is it the sight of me that makes the King laugh?” She went to the bed chamber with the King, and at bedtime she asked, “Why did you laugh, oh King?” He said, “What do you care why I laugh?” But she asked again and again, and finally he told her. Then she said, “Give me your spell of knowledge.” He said, “It cannot be given.” But even though he refused her, she pressed him again.

The King said, “If I give you this spell, I will die.” “Even though you will die, give it me.” The King, being under her spell, said, “So be it.” He went to the park in a chariot, saying, “I will burst into flames after giving away this spell.”

At that moment, Sakka, king of gods, looked down on the earth. And seeing this case, he said, “This foolish King, knowing that he will burst into flames through his sensual desire, is on his way. I will spare him his life.” So he took Sujā, daughter of the Asuras (a type of demigod), and went to Benares. He became a male goat, and he made her into a female goat. And resolving that no one should see them, he stood before the King’s chariot. The King and the Sindh horses yoked in the chariot saw him, but no one else did. Then he pretended that he was making love with the female goat. One of the Sindh horses saw him and said, “Friend goat, we have heard that goats are stupid and shameless. But you are doing right in front of us this thing that should be done in secret and in a private place. Yet you are not ashamed. What we have heard agrees with what we now see.” And then he spoke the first stanza:

“Goats are stupid,” says the wise man, and the words are surely true.

This one knows not he’s parading what in secret he should do.

The goat—hearing him—spoke two stanzas:

Oh, sir Sindh horse, think and realize your own stupidity,

You’re tied with ropes, your jaw is wrenched, and very downcast is your eye.

When you’re loosed, you don’t escape, sir, that’s a stupid habit too.

And that Senaka you carry, he’s more stupid still than you.

The King, of course, understood the speech of both animals, and hearing it, he quickly sent away the chariot. The horse, hearing the goat’s talk, spoke the fourth stanza:

Well, sir king of goats, you fully know my great stupidity.

But how Senaka is stupid, oh please do explain to me.

The goat explaining this spoke the fifth stanza:

He who his own special treasure on his wife will throw away,

Cannot keep her faithful ever and his life he must betray.

The King—hearing his words—said, “King of goats, you will surely act for my benefit. Tell me now, what is the right thing for me to do?” Then the goat said, “King, to all animals no one is dearer than one’s self. It is not good to destroy yourself and abandon your honor for the sake of anything that is dear.” And he spoke the sixth stanza:

A king, like you, may have conceived desire

And yet renounced it if his life’s the cost.

Life is the chief thing; what can one seek higher?

If life’s secured, desires need not be crossed.

So the Bodhisatta exhorted the King. The King was delighted. He asked, “King of goats, where do you come from?” “I am Sakka, oh King. I came to save you from death out of compassion for you.” “King of gods, I promised to give her the spell. What am I to do now?” “There is no need for the ruin of both of you. Have her punished with some blows. By any other means she will not understand.” The King said, “It is well,” and he agreed.

After this exhortation to the King, the Bodhisatta returned to Sakka’s heaven. The King went to the garden, where he had the Queen summoned. He said to her, “Lady, do you still want the charm?” “Yes, lord.” “Then gain it through the usual method.” “What method?” “A hundred blows on the back, but you must not make a sound.” She consented because of her lust for the charm. So the King had his slaves take whips and start to beat her. She endured two or three blows and then cried, “Stop! I don’t want the charm!” The King said, “You would have killed me to get the charm!” And so he sent her away. After that she could not bear to speak of it again.