Jataka 401
Dasaṇṇaka Jātaka
Dasanna’s good sword
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
If you can get past the disturbing idea of one man giving his wife to another man, this story makes some interesting points. The first of these is a series of acts that are difficult to perform, namely 1) stating that you will give away something that is dear to you, 2) actually doing it, and then 3) not feeling regret over having done so. But the even greater point is that what the King in this story thought was a case for joy, upon further consideration was really a case for sorrow. This lets him let it go, as it were.
“Dasanna’s good sword.” The Master told this story while he was living at Jetavana. It is about a monk who was tempted by his wife when he was a layman. The monk confessed that he was backsliding for this reason. The Master said, “That woman does you harm. In the past you were dying of a mental sickness because of her, and your life was saved because of wise men.” And then he told him this story from the past.
Once upon a time when the great King Maddava was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into a brahmin household. They named him “young Senaka.” When he grew up, he learned all the sciences at Takkasilā University. When he returned to Benares, he became King Maddava’s counsellor in all things worldly and spiritual. He was then called “wise Senaka.” He was revered in all the city as if he were the sun or the moon.
One day the son of the King’s household priest came to wait on the King. When he saw the chief Queen adorned with ornaments and looking exceedingly beautiful, he became enamored with her. And when he went home, he just lay there unable to eat any food. His comrades asked him what was wrong, and he told them what was going on.
Meanwhile, the King said, “The household priest’s son does not appear. Why is this?” When he heard the reason, he sent for him and said, “I give her to you for seven days. Spend those days at your house, and on the eighth day, send her back.” The son replied, "Very well.”
So he took her to his house and took delight with her. They became enamored of each other, and—keeping it a secret—they fled by the house door and went to the country of another king. No one knew where they had gone, and their path was like the journey of a ship.
The King made a proclamation by drum around the city, and even though he searched in many ways he did not find the place where she had gone. He began to feel great sorrow at her absence. His heart became hot and poured out blood. After that blood flowed from his entrails, and he became extremely sick. The great royal physicians could not cure him. The Bodhisatta thought, “The disease is not in the King. He is overcome with mental anguish because he cannot be with his wife. I will cure him by a certain means.” So he instructed the King’s wise counsellors—Āyura and Pukkusa— saying, “The King does not have a physical illness. He has a mental sickness because he is separated from his Queen. But now he has great helpers to aid him. We will cure him in this way. We will call a gathering in the palace yard. There we will have a man who knows how to do it swallow a sword. We will have the King watch from a window and look down on the gathering. The King will see the man swallow a sword, and he will ask, ‘Is there anything harder to do than that?’ Then, my lord Āyura, you will answer, ‘It is harder to say: I will give up something dear. Then he will ask you, my lord Pukkusa, and you should answer, ‘O King, if a man says I give up something dear, and he does not give it, his word is fruitless. No one who lives or eats or drinks would trust such words. But they who stand by their word and give the thing according to their promise, they do a thing harder than this man.’”
So he called a gathering. Then these three wise men went and told the King. They said, “O great King, there is a gathering in the palace yard. If men look down on it, their sorrow becomes joy. Let us go there.” So they took the King, and opening a window, they had him look down on the gathering. Many people were showing off their own skills which he knew, and there was one man who was swallowing a good sword. It was thirty-three inches in length, and it had a very sharp edge. The King saw him and thought, “This man is swallowing a sword. I will ask these wise men if there is anything harder to do than that.” So he asked Āyura, speaking the first stanza:
Dasanna’s good sword thirsts for blood, its edge is sharpened perfectly.
Yet ’midst the crowd he swallows it, a harder feat there cannot be.
I ask if anything is hard compared to this, pray answer me.
(Dasanna is apparently a kingdom in central India, which is a center for the art of sword-making.)
Then he spoke the second stanza in answer:
Greed may lure a man to swallow swords though sharpened perfectly,
But to say, “I give this freely,” that a harder feat would be.
All things else are easy, royal Māgadha, I’ve answered thee.
When the King heard wise Āyura's words, he thought, “So then it is harder to say, ‘I give this precious thing,’ than to swallow a sword. I said, ‘I give my Queen to the priest’s son.’ I have done a very hard thing.” And so the sorrow in his heart became a little lighter. Then he thought, “Is there anything harder than to say, ‘I give this thing to another?’” He talked with wise Pukkusa and spoke the third stanza:
Āyura has solved my question, wise in all philosophy,
Pukkusa I ask the question now, if harder feat there be?
Is there aught that’s hard compared to this? Pray answer me.
The wise Pukkusa in answer to him spoke the fourth stanza:
Not by words men live, and not by language uttered fruitlessly,
But to give and not regret it, that a greater feat would be.
All things else are easy, royal Māgadha, I’ve answered thee.
Hearing this, the King thought, “I first said, ‘I will give the Queen to the priest’s son.’ And then I did so according to my word. Surely I have done a hard thing.” So his sorrow became lighter. Then it came into his mind, “There is no one wiser than wise Senaka. I will put this question to him,” and he spoke the fifth stanza:
Pukkusa has solved my question, wise in all philosophy,
Senaka I ask the question now, if harder feat there be.
Is there aught that’s hard compared to this? Pray answer me.
So Senaka spoke the sixth stanza in answer to him:
If a man should give a gift, or small or great, in charity,
Nor regret the giving after, that a harder feat would be.
All things else are easy, royal Māgadha, I’ve answered thee.
Hearing the Bodhisatta’s word, the King reflected, “I gave the Queen to the priest’s son of my own will. But now I cannot control my thoughts. I sorrow and pine. This is not worthy of me. If she loved me, she would not leave her kingdom and fly away. Why would I have anything to do with her when she has not loved me but fled away?” As he thought this, all his sorrow rolled away and departed like a drop of water on a lotus leaf. At that instant his sorrow passed away. He became well and happy. He praised the Bodhisatta, speaking the final stanza:
Āyura answered question, good Pukkusa as well,
The words of Senaka the wise all answers do excel.
Figure: “The words of Senaka the wise all answers do excel.”
And after this praise he gave Senaka much wealth from his gratitude.
After the lesson, the Master taught the Four Noble Truths. After the teaching, the backsliding monk was established in the fruition of the First Path (stream-entry). Then the Master identified the birth: “At that time the Queen was the wife of his layman days, the King was the backsliding monk, Āyura was Moggallāna, Pukkusa was Sāriputta, and I was the wise Senaka.”
(Moggallāna and Sāriputta were the Buddha’s chief disciples.)
