Jataka 530
Saṃkicca Jātaka
The Sage Saṃkicca
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 has two somewhat curious messages. The first is that the Buddha or a Bodhisatta can grant dispensation for someone who has done something as egregious as killing his father. I think this is a stretch. The law of karma is cold and impersonal, and even a Buddha cannot overcome it.
The other curious message is the lengthy and graphic description of the hell realms. It is a pretty good reason to do good things!
“At sight of Brahmadatta.” The Master told this story while living in the mango grove of Jīvaka. (Jīvaka was the king’s physician and a supporter of the Buddha.) It is about the murder of own father (King Bimbisara) by Ajātasattu. At his instigation, Devadatta had his father put to death. But when sickness arose in the Saṇgha following schism in the order, Devadatta resolved to go and ask pardon of the Tathāgata. But as he was journeying on a litter to Sāvatthi, he was swallowed up by the earth at the gate of Jetavana. (This is commonly believed to have been an earthquake.) On hearing this, Ajātasattu thought, “Because Devadatta was an enemy of the supreme Buddha, he has disappeared into the earth and is destined to the Avīci hell. It was because of him that I murdered my holy father, that king of righteousness. I, too, shall surely be swallowed up by the earth.”
He was so terrified that he found no enjoyment in his royal splendor. Thinking that he would rest awhile, he fell asleep. He seemed to be dropped into a world of iron nine leagues thick and beaten with iron spikes. He was devoured by dogs continually snapping at him. He woke up with a terrible cry.
One day at full moon during the Cāturmāsya festival (monsoon season) when surrounded by a great retinue of courtiers, he reflected on his own glory. He thought that his father’s glory was far greater than this, and that because of Devadatta, he had killed an excellent king of righteousness. And while he thought about this, a fever sprang up in his limbs and his whole body was bathed in sweat.
He thought about who could drive this fear away from him. He concluded that there was no one except the Dasabala (the Buddha) who could do this. He thought, “I have committed an offense against the Tathāgata. Who will take me into his presence?” He concluded that there was no one but Jīvaka. He thought about how he could get him to go with him.
So he uttered a joyous cry, “O sir, what a lovely clear night it is. What if we go pay our respects to some priest or brahmin?” And when the virtues of Purāna (a rival ascetic) and other teachers had been sung by their respective disciples, without attending to what they said, he questioned Jīvaka about the virtues of the Tathāgata. Then he cried, “Let his Majesty pay his respects to the Blessed One.” He ordered elephant carts to be prepared, and then he went to the mango grove of Jīvaka. And approaching the Tathāgata with an obeisance and being kindly greeted by him, he asked about the reward of asceticism in this present life. After listening to a sweet discourse on this topic from the Tathāgata, at the end of the sermon he announced that he would become the Buddha’s disciples. And having been reconciled to the Tathāgata, he went on his way.
From then on, he distributed alms and kept the moral law (the Precepts). He associated with the Tathāgata, and listening to his sweet discourse on the Dharma and associating with a virtuous friend, his fears subsided. His feeling of horror disappeared, and he recovered his peace of mind. He happily cultivated the four Ways of Deportment (sitting, standing, walking, and lying down).
One day they started a discussion in the Dharma Hall, saying, “Sirs, after killing his father, Ajātasattu was terror-stricken and found no enjoyment in his regal splendor. He experienced pain in every posture. Then he went to the Tathāgata, and by associating with a virtuous friend, he lost his fears and enjoyed the happiness of lordship.” The Master came and asked, “What topic, brothers, are you discussing?” When they told him what it was, he said, “Not now only, but of old, too, this man, after murdering his father, recovered his peace of mind through me.” And then he told this story from the past.
Once upon a time in Benares, Brahmadatta gave birth to a son. They named him Prince Brahmadatta. At the same time the Bodhisatta was conceived in the house of the family priest. And at his birth they named him young Saṃkicca. The two lads grew up together in the palace, and they were great friends. When they came of age, after acquiring all learning at Takkasilā University, they returned home. Then the king appointed his son to be viceroy, and the Bodhisatta still lived with him. Now one day when his father had gone to the pleasure garden, the viceroy beheld the king’s great glory. He developed a longing for it, thinking, “My father is more like a brother. If I wait for his death, I shall be an old man before I succeed to the crown. What good will it do for me to get the kingdom then? I will kill my father and make myself king.”
He told the Bodhisatta what he was thinking of doing. The Bodhisatta rejected the idea, saying, “Friend, murdering a father is a serious matter. That way leads to hell. You must not do this. Please do not kill him.”
But Prince Brahmadatta spoke of it again and again. He was opposed by his friend for the third time. Then he consulted with his attendants. They fell in with the idea and concocted a plot to kill the king. But the Bodhisatta heard about this. He thought, “I will not associate with people like these.” So without taking leave of his father and mother, he escaped by a house-door and hid himself in the Himalaya country. (Whenever anyone wishes to leave the house without being observed, he goes out by the “aggadvāram,”—which is a side or back-door—as opposed to the main entrance.) There he embraced the ascetic life and attained the supernatural powers arising from ecstatic meditation (jhāna). He lived on roots and wild berries. But once his friend had left, the prince put his father to death and enjoyed great glory.
Hearing that young Saṃkicca had adopted the ascetic life, many youths of good families gave up the world and were ordained by him. And he lived surrounded by a great company of ascetics, all of whom had already reached the Attainments (jhānas).
After killing his father, the king enjoyed the pleasure of kingship for a very short time. But then he became terror-stricken. He lost his peace of mind. He was like one who had found punishment in hell. Then he recalled the Bodhisatta. He thought, “My friend tried to stop me. He told me that the murder of one’s father was a grievous thing. But when he failed to persuade me, he ran away to keep himself free from guilt. If he had been here, he would not have let me kill my father and he would have freed me from this terror. Where in the world can he be living? If I knew where he was, I would send for him. Who can tell me where he is?” From then on, he sang the praises of the Bodhisatta in the harem and the court.
After a long time—when he had lived for fifty years in the Himalayas—the Bodhisatta thought, “The king remembers me. I must go to him and teach him the Dharma and remove his fears.” So attended by 500 ascetics, he passed through the air and landed in the garden called Dāyapassa. And surrounded by his band of ascetics, he seated himself on a stone slab. When the keeper of the garden saw him, he asked, “Holy sir, who is the leader of this company of ascetics?” When he heard that it was the sage Saṃkicca, he recognized him. He said, “Sir, stay here until I bring the king. He is anxious to see you.” And making an obeisance, he went in haste to the palace. He told the king of his friend’s arrival. The king went to see him, and after offering all due civility, he put a question to him.
The Master, to make the matter clear, said:
At sight of Brahmadatta thus enthroned in royal state,
He said, “O king, the friend for whom you are compassionate,
Saṃkicca, lo! is here—of saints the chief in fame is he
Set out in haste and tarry not this holy sage to see.”
So quickly mounting on the cart prepared at his behest,
The king alongside his courtier friends set forth upon his quest.
The emblems five of royal pomp straight removed the Kāsi lord,
Umbrella, turban, yak-tail fan, with shoes and with his sword.
Then stepping from his cart the king, stripped of his bright array,
To Dāyapassa park, where sat Saṃkicca, took his way.
The king drew near and greeting him with words of courtly phrase,
Recalled the discourse they had held together in old days.
And as he sat beside him, when occasion fit arose,
A question as to woeful deeds he hastened to propose.
“Saṃkicca, lord of saintly band, great sage, whom here I see
Sitting in Dāyapassa park, I want to question thee.
How fare transgressors after death? Born to what state are they?
I too have erred from righteousness. Your answer quick, I pray.”
The Master, to make the matter clear, said:
Saṃkicca then addressed the king who ruled o’er Kāsi land,
Sitting in Dāyapassa glades, “Mark, sire, and understand.
Should You point out the road to one gone hopelessly astray,
And he should follow your advice, no thorns beset his way.
But he that walks in evil ways, should you direct aright,
And he should follow your advice, escapes from woeful plight.”
In this way he admonished the king. Then he taught him the Dharma, saying,
Right is like the high road,
Wrong is but a bye-road.
Right to heaven it wins its way,
Wrong to hell leads men astray.
Men that transgress the law, O sire, and live unrighteously,
What fate they suffer after death in hell, now hear from me.
Sañjīva, Kāḷasutta and Roruva, great and small,
Saṇghāta, Great Avīci, are names that may well appall,
With Tapana and Patāpana, eight major hells in all.
(This is a list of hell realms.)
Escape from there is hopeless, and of Ussadas they tell,
Twice eight times more in number, a kind of minor hell—
(Ussada is a hell realm. There are 128 Ussada hells.)
Dread flames here torture woeful men, all cruel deeds abound,
Horror, amazement, anguish, woe and terror reign around.
Four square with fourfold doors is each, in due proportion spaced,
With dome of iron ‘twas o’erarched, by iron wall embraced,
Its base of iron wrought is such no raging flame may melt,
Though e’en a hundred leagues around its mighty power is felt.
All that have outrage done to saints or injured holy men
Fall headlong into hell’s abyss, no more to rise again.
In evil plight their mangled frames, piece-meal like fish on toast,
For their misdeeds through countless years in hell are doomed to roast.
Their limbs consumed with burning heat, to torture dread a prey,
Though eager to escape from hell they never find a way.
Figure: “Oh, hell.”
Seeking an outlet to and fro to east or west they fly,
Or baffled hurry north or south, a hopeless quest to ply,
For gods are there to bar the way, whichever door they try.
Poor souls, for many thousand years they dwell in hell’s domain,
With arms outstretched they sore lament their overwhelming pain.
Like deadly poison-snake whose wrath ‘twere fatal to arouse,
Shun to attack the saints that live bound by ascetic vows.
Ajjuna, lord of Kekakās, great archer, who annoyed
Gotama, was despite his bulk and thousand arms destroyed.
So Daṇḍaki defiling Kisavaccha, blameless one,
Like palm tree from the roots cut down, was utterly undone.
Mejjha for famed Mātaṇga’s sake fell from its place of pride,
The land became a wilderness and king and people died.
Assailing black Dīpāyana the men of Vishṇu race
With Andhakas sought Yama’s realm, each slain by other’s mace
(Yama is the lord of hell.)
Cursed by a sage, Cecca who once could tread the air, they say,
Was lost and swallowed by the earth on his appointed day.
The self-willed fool can never gain the approval of the wise,
But guileless souls, equipped with truth, are slow to utter lies.
Whoso would lie in wait to catch some wise and holy man,
Hurled down to hell will quickly learn to rue his wicked plan.
But who with treacherous cruelty shall aged saints assail,
Shall like a dying palm tree stump, childless and heirless, fail.
Whoso some mighty sage, a priest of life austere, shall slay,
In Kāḷasutta hell shall suffer torture many a day.
And if a wicked Maga king his realm should overthrow,
He shall when dead in Tapana like sufferings undergo.
A hundred thousand years, as gods count years, he’s doomed to dwell,
Clad in a robe of living flame, midst agonies of hell.
Bright jets of fire on every side shoot from his tortured frame,
His very limbs, hair, nails and all, serve but to feed the flame.
And as his body burns apace, racked through and through with pain,
Like a goad-stricken elephant, poor wretch, he roars amain.
Whoso from greed or hatred shall, vile creature, slay his sire,
In Kāḷasutta hell long time shall agonize in fire.
In iron cauldron boiled till he shall peel,
The parricide is pierced with shafts of steel,
Then blinded and on filth condemned to feed
He’s plunged in brine, to expiate his deed.
Then goblins ‘twixt his jaws, lest they should close,
Hot iron ball or ploughshare interpose,
These fixed with cords his mouth so firmly prop,
They into it a stream of filth can drop.
Vultures, both black and brown, and ravens too,
And birds with iron beaks, a motley crew,
Rending his tongue to many a fragment small,
Devour the quivering morsel, blood and all.
The goblins flitting to and fro
Assail the wretch with many a blow,
On his charred breast or broken limb
With cruel glee they buffet him.
The joy is theirs, but woes abide
With all that in such hell reside
For earthly crime of parricide.
The son that slays his mother straight to Yama’s realm is sent,
In retribution for his deed to reap due punishment.
There powerful demons seize upon the guilty matricide,
And plough with iron shares his back in furrows deep and wide.
The blood like molten copper from his wounds that flows they drench,
And give it to the guilty wretch, his burning thirst to quench.
He stands plunged in a crimson lake as ‘twere of clotted blood,
Breathing foul stench of carrion vile or evil smelling mud.
Enormous worms with iron mouths, piercing their victim’s skin,
Devour his flesh right greedily and suck the blood within.
In hell one hundred fathoms deep behold the victim sinks,
While for a hundred leagues around dead carcass like he stinks.
By reason of the stench, O king, such is his sorry plight,
Though once possessed of vision keen he suffers loss of sight.
Passed out from Khuradhāra hell, grim prison house hard to flee,
Abortion-mongers ‘scape not that dread stream, Vetaraṇī
(Vetaranī is a river in hell.)
Silk-cotton trees with thorns foot long of iron wrought, ‘tis said,
On either bank, Vetaranī, o’erhang the gloomy bed.
All clothed in flame, one mass of fire, they stand against the sky,
And all ablaze with brilliant light tower a full league on high.
Here fixed upon sharp thorns red-hot in hell appear to view
Unfaithful husbands, guilty wives, the whole adulterous crew.
Beaten with stripes headlong they fall, revolving in their flight,
And there with mangled limbs they lie awake the livelong night.
At dawn they hide themselves in Iron Cauldron, known to fame,
Big as a mountain ‘tis and full of water like to flame.
So clad in folly like a robe the wicked night and day,
For their ill deeds wrought long ago, fit retribution pay.
Whoso as wife bought with his gold her husband shall despise,
Or shall regard his kith and kin with ever scornful eyes,
Her tongue, wrenched out with hook and line, shall suffer agonies.
She sees her tongue drawn out all full of worms, nor may complain,
Silent, defenseless, in Tapana endures awful pain.
Slayers of sheep and swine and cows, and followers of the chase,
Fishermen, robbers, cruel all, glozing as fair things base,
Assailed with swords and iron clubs, headlong, these men of blood,
Pursued with spears and arrows fall into a briny flood.
The forger, harried night and day with club of iron forged,
Feeds only on the filthy mess by some poor rogue disgorged.
Crows, ravens, vultures, jackals too, all armed with iron jaw,
Entomb the struggling wretch alive in their unquenchable maw.
Who shall with beast hunt beast to death, or bird with bird shall slay,
O’erwhelmed with shame shall sink to hell, to rue the accursed day.
In this way he described all these hells. Then he made an opening in the earth and showed the king the heavenly worlds and said:
Through virtue stored on earth of old the good to heaven attain,
Here Brahmas, Devas, Indra, lo! ripe fruit of Virtue gain.
This then I say, bear righteous sway throughout your realm, my king,
For justice done is merit won, and no regret will bring.
On hearing the holy discourse of the Great Being, the king was comforted. And the Bodhisatta, after staying some time there, returned to his own home.
The Master here ended his story and said, “Not now only, but in the past he was consoled by me.” Then he identified the birth: “At that time Ajātasattu was the king, the followers of Buddha formed the company of the ascetic, and I was the sage Saṃkicca.”
