Alambusā Jātaka

Once upon a time in the reign of Brahmadatta in Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into a brahmin family in the kingdom of Kāsi. When he came of age, he became proficient in all of the liberal arts. Then he adopted the ascetic life living on wild berries and roots in a forest home.

Now a certain doe in the brahmin’s dwelling place ate grass and drank water mingled with his semen. She was so enamored of him that she became pregnant. After that she lingered in a spot near the hermitage. The Great Being examined the matter, understanding the facts of the case. By and by the doe gave birth to a male child, and the Great Being watched over it with a father’s affection. His name was Isisiṇga. (“Rishyasringa” in Sanskrit.) And when the lad reached the years of discretion, the Bodhisatta admitted him to holy orders.

When the Bodhisatta grew to be an old man, he repaired with him to the Nāri grove and instructed him. “My dear boy, in this Himalaya country there are women as fair as these flowers. Desire for them can bring utter destruction on all that fall prey to their allure. You must not give in to this desire.”

Shortly afterwards he was reborn in the Brahma world. But Isisiṇga, indulging in mystic meditation, made his dwelling in the Himalaya region. He was a serious ascetic, with all his senses subdued. So by the power of his virtue the throne of Sakka was shaken. Sakka, on reflection, discovered the cause. He thought, “This fellow will bring me down from my position as Sakka. I will send a heavenly nymph to tempt him and to break his virtue.” And after examining the whole heavenly realm, he found the nymph Alambusā. He could find no one greater than she among twenty-five million handmaids equal to the task. So he summoned her and instructed her to bring about the destruction of the saint’s virtue.

The Master, in order to explain this matter, uttered this stanza:

Then mighty Indra, lord of lords, the god that Vatra slew,

Unto his hall the nymph did call, for well her wiles he knew.

And “Fair Alambusā,” he cried, “the angel host above

To Isisiṇga bid you go, to tempt him with your love.”

Sakka ordered Alambusā, saying, “Go and draw near to Isisiṇga. Bring him under your power and destroy his virtue.” Then he uttered these words:

Go, Temptress, ever dog his steps, for holy sage is he,

And, seeking ever highest bliss, still triumphs over me.

On hearing this Alambusā repeated a couple of stanzas:

Why, king of gods, of all the nymphs regard you me alone,

And bid me tempt the saintly man that menaces your throne?

In happy grove of Nandana is many a nymph divine,

To one of them—it is their turn—the hateful task assign.

Then Sakka repeated three stanzas:

You speak the truth, in happy grove of Nandana, I glean,

May many a nymph, to rival you in loveliness, be seen.

But none like you, O peerless maid, with all a woman’s wile

This holy man in folly’s ways so practiced to beguile.

Then queen of women as you are, go, lovely nymph, your way

And by the power of beauty force the saint under your sway.

On hearing this Alambusā repeated two stanzas:

I will not fail, O angel-king, to go at your request,

But still with fear this sage austere I venture to molest.

For many a one, poor fool, has gone (I shudder at the thought)

In hell to rue the suffering due to wrongs on saints he wrought.

This said, Alambusā, fair nymph, departed with all speed,

Famed Isisiṇga to entice to some unholy deed.

Into the grove for half a league with berries red so bright,

The grove where Isisiṇga dwelt, she vanished out of sight.

At break of day, before the sun was scarce astir on high,

To Isisiṇga, sweeping out his cell, the nymph drew nigh.

These stanzas owed their inspiration to Perfect Wisdom.

Then the ascetic questioned her and said:

Who are you, like to lightning flash, or bright as morning star,

With ears and hands bedecked with gems that sparkle from afar?

Fragrant as golden sandalwood, in brightness like the sun,

A slim and pretty maid are you, right fair to look upon.

So soft and pure, with slender waist and firmly springing gait,

Your movements are so full of grace, my heart they captivate.

Your thighs, like trunk of elephant, are finely tapering found,

Your buttocks soft to touch and like to any dice-board round.

With down like lotus filaments Your navel marked, I glean,

As though with black collyrium ‘twere charged, from far is seen.

(“Collyrium” is eye makeup.)

Twin milky breasts, like pumpkins halved, their swelling globes display,

Firm set, although without a stalk all unsupported they.

Your lips are red as is your tongue, and, O auspicious sign,

Your neck long as the antelope’s is marked with triple line.

(“Triple line”, a.k.a., three folds on the neck, like shell-spirals, were a token of luck.)

Your teeth brushed with a piece of wood, kept ever clean and bright,

Gleam in your top and lower jaw with flash of purest white.

Your eyes are long and large of shape, a lovely sight to view,

Like guñjá berries black, marked out with lines of reddish hue.

(“Guñjá berries”, a.k.a., “goji berries.”)

Your tresses smooth, not over long and bound in neatest coil,

Are tipped with gold and perfumed with the finest sandal oil.

Of all that live by merchandise, by herds or by the plough,

Of all the mighty saints that live true to ascetic vow

Among them all in this wide world your peer I may not see,

Then tell your name and who your sire, we want to learn from thee.

While the ascetic sang praises of her from her feet to the hair of her head, she remained silent. From his long, drawn-out speech, she observing how disturbed his state of mind was. She repeated this stanza:

Heaven bless you, Kassapa, my friend, the time is past and gone

For idle questions such as these—for are we not alone?—

Come let us in your hermitage embracing haste to prove

The thousand joys well known to all the devotees of love.

(“Kassapa” was the family name of Isisiṅga.)

Alambusā thought, “If I stand still, he will not come to me. I will pretend to run away.” Thus, using her cunning, she fled in the direction from which she had approached him.

The Master, to make the matter clear, spoke this stanza:

This said, Alambusā, fair nymph, departed with all speed,

To entice famed Isisiṇga to some unholy deed.

Then the ascetic, on seeing her depart, cried, “She is off!” And swiftly he intercepted her as she was making off, and he seized her by the hair of her head.

The Master, to make the matter clear, said:

To check her flight, the holy man with motion swift as air

In hot pursuit o’ertook the nymph and held her by the hair.

Just where he stood the lovely maid embraced him in her arms,

And straight his virtue fell before the magic of her charms.

In thought she flew to Indra’s throne in Nandana afar,

The god at once divined her wish and sent a golden car.

With trappings spread and all adorned with manifold array,

And there the saint lay in her arms for many a long day.

Three years passed o’er his head as though it were a moment’s space,

Until at last the holy man woke up from her embrace.

Green trees he saw on every side, an altar stood hard by,

And leafy groves re-echoing to the loud cuckoo cry.

He looked around and weeping sore he shed a bitter tear,

I make no offering, raise no hymn, no sacrifice is here.

Dwelling within this woods alone, who can my tempter be?

Who by foul practice has o’ercome all sense of right in me,

E’en as a ship with precious freight is swallowed in the sea?

On hearing this Alambusā thought: “If I do not tell him, he will curse me. So truly, I will tell him.” And standing by him in a visible form she repeated this stanza:

Sent by king Sakka, here I stand

A willing slave at your command,

Though far too careless to know this,

Was thought of me that marred Your bliss.

On hearing her words, he called to mind his father’s admonition. And lamenting how he was utterly ruined by disobeying the words of his father, he repeated four stanzas:

Thus would kind Kassapa, my sire,

With prudence heedless youth inspire,

“Desire as fair as lotus flower,

Beware, good youth, its subtle power.”

“Of desire’s budding charms beware,

Beware the danger that lurks there.”

‘Twas thus my sire, by pity moved,

Would fain have warned the son he loved.

My wise old father’s words, alas!

Unheeded I allowed to pass,

And so alone, in sore distress

I haunt today this wilderness.

Accursed be the life of old,

Henceforth I’ll do as I am told.

Far better death itself to face,

Then be again in such a case.

So he forsook his desire and entered into mystic meditation. Then Alambusā, seeing his virtue as an ascetic and aware that he had attained to a state of ecstasy, became terrified and asked his forgiveness.

The Master, to make the matter clear, repeated two stanzas:

Alambusā no sooner knew

His steadfast power and courage true

Then bending low, the sage to greet,

The nymph straightway embraced his feet.

“O saint, all anger lay aside,

A mighty work I wrought,” she cried,

When heaven itself and gods of fame

Trembled with fear to hear Your name.”

Then he let her go, saying, “I pardon you, fair lady. Go, as you will.” And he repeated a stanza:

My blessing on the Thirty-three

And Vāsava, their lord, and thee,

Depart, fair maid, for you are free.

(The “Thirty-three is the heavenly realm of the thirty-three gods.)

Saluting him, she departed to the realm of the gods in that same golden car.

The Master, to make the matter clear, repeated three stanzas:

Embracing then the sage’s feet and circling to the right,

With hands in respectful attitude, she vanished from his sight.

And mounting on the golden car, with trappings rich o’erspread,

All splendidly decorated, to heavenly heights she sped.

Like blazing torch or lightning flash, she passed across the sky,

And Sakka, glad at heart, exclaimed, “No boon can I deny.”

Receiving a boon from him she repeated the concluding stanza:

If Sakka, lord of sprites, you would my heart’s desire allow,

Let me ne’er tempt a saint again to violate his vow.