Chapter 18 - The two brothers

[Source: Kah-gyur, iv. ff. 186-189.]

In long past times, a king came to the throne in the palace of a country well provided with riches, prosperity, good harvests, and numerous inhabitants. Some time afterwards his wife became with child, and, after the lapse of eight or nine months, gave birth to a very handsome boy, complete in limbs and joints, whose skin was the colour of gold, whose head stood out like a canopy, and who had long arms, a broad forehead, interlacing eyebrows, and a high-arched nose. At his birth there occurred many thousands of happy events. When his birth-feast was held, and the question arose as to giving him a name, the ministers said, “O king, as many thousands of happy events have taken place at his birth, let him be called Kṣemaṅkara.^[1] This name was given to him, and he was entrusted to eight nurses, two to carry him, two to suckle him, two to cleanse him, and two to play with him. These nurses brought him up on various milk products and other excellent forms of nourishment, so that he shot up like a lotus in a pool.

The king’s wife again became with child, and after the lapse of eight or nine months a boy was born, at whose birth many thousands of unfortunate events took place, on which account there was given to him the name of Pāpaṅkara.^[2] He also thrived apace and grew up.

The young Kṣemaṅkara, who was of a friendly and merciful nature, and compassionate towards all living creatures, loved to give, taking his delight in bestowing, and conferred gifts upon the Śramaṇas [Śramaṇas?] and Brahmans, the poor and the needy who begged of him. His father said to him, “O son, do not be constantly making presents. If you give away so freely, where are we to find the necessary riches?”

Now, in accordance with the nature of things, many men take delight in gifts and giving, and when they thus delight themselves their fame is extolled in words and verses, and celebrated in all parts of the world. The king of another country, who had heard of the great virtues of the prince, wished to give him his daughter. The prince’s father was highly pleased, and wanted to go to meet her. But Kṣemaṅkara said, “Until I have acquired wealth I will not marry. Āllow me, O father, to go to sea.” He replied, “Do so.” When he set forth for the sea with his merchandise, his brother, Pāpaṅkara, said to himself—

“As he is now liked and loved by many men, he will be still more liked and loved by many men when he shall have equipped a sea-ship and have returned home. Ānd as there will be an opportunity of his being invested with the regal power during our father’s lifetime, therefore I, too, instead of remaining here to see whose turn will come, will go to sea along with him, and will take away his life out there, and then I shall be invested with the heirship even against my father’s will.” With these thoughts in his mind he went to his father, and said to him, “O father, as Kṣemaṅkara is going to sea I will go with him.” His father said, “Do so.”

Now Kṣemaṅkara ordered proclamation to be made throughout the land as follows: “Listen, O honourable merchants inhabiting the city. As Prince Kṣemaṅkara is going to sea with merchandise, and as he among you who is inclined to go to sea under Prince Kṣemaṅkara’s guidance will be freed from tolls, taxes, and freightmoney, therefore get ready the goods which are to be taken to sea.” Many hundreds of merchants got ready goods to be taken to the sea. Then Kṣemaṅkara, as the leading trader, accompanied by his brother Pāpaṅkara, after performing ceremonies for the sake of obtaining a successful result, surrounded by many hundreds of merchants, taking with him in waggons, carts, chests, and hampers, and on camels, oxen, and asses, quantities of goods to be transported by sea, set out on his way. Visiting lands, towns, villages, commercial emporiums, and estates, he came by degrees to the sea-coast. There he purchased a ship for five hundred kārṣāpaṇas, and after making proclamation three times, set out on the ocean, taking with him five hundred servants, diggers, cleansers, fishermen, mariners, and pilots. When on board ship he said to his brother Pāpaṅkara: “Should a shipwreck take place in the middle of the ocean, then throw your arms round my neck without hesitation.” Pāpaṅkara replied, “Good, I will do so.”

After a time the ship arrived with a favourable wind at the Island of Jewels, and the steersman said: “Listen, O honourable merchants of Jambudvīpa! as ye have heard that the Island of Jewels is a mine of diamonds, lapis lazuli, turquoises, emeralds, and divers other precious stones, therefore have we come hither. Now then, take yourselves as many jewels as ye wish.”

They searched for them with joy and desire, and they filled the ship full, as though with rice, pease, sesame, and the like. Now, as Bodisats are wise and sharp-witted, Prince Kṣemaṅkara made fast to his girdle some large jewels of great value. On the way back, when not far from shore, the ship was rendered useless in consequence of an injury inflicted by a sea monster. Therefore Pāpaṅkara threw his arms round the neck of Kṣemaṅkara, who by great exertions brought him ashore. Exhausted by the burden, Kṣemaṅkara fell asleep. As he lay sleeping, Pāpaṅkara caught sight of the jewels fastened to his girdle, and thought: “Ought I to return with empty hands while he comes back with such jewels?” Then he took away the jewels from his soundly sleeping brother, put both his eyes out with a thorn, and left him sightless on the ocean shore.

By a fortunate chance some oxherds who were tending their cattle came to that spot. When they saw the prince, they said, “Ho, friend, who are you?” He told them everything that had occurred. When they had heard his story they were filled with compassion, and they led him to the house of the chief herdsman. There he took to playing on the lute. The chief herdsman’s wife, who was charmed by his youth and beauty, heard the sound of his lute and tried to allure him. But he, thinking of a course of life acquired by good deeds, closed his ears and did not stir. As there is nothing which they may not do who are seized by desire, she said to her husband: “This blind man is trying to tempt me, will you put up with such people?” The prince reflected that, of all kinds of anger, the worst is the anger of a wife, and perceived that there was nothing left for him, in order not to be smitten thereby, but to go away. So he left the house, and along all manner of streets, market places, and by-roads, he gained himself a living by his music.

On the death of his father his brother, Pāpaṅkara, came to the throne. And after a time he himself arrived at the town of that neighbouring king who had formerly wished to give him his daughter in marriage. She bad by this time grown up, but when there came to woo her the sons of kings, ministers, and purohitas, dwelling in many lands, her father said: “O daughter, Prince Kṣemaṅkara, for whom I had intended you, went to sea and there died in consequence of a misfortune. As suitors have now arrived, and as those who do not obtain you will be discontented, the question arises, what is to be done?” She replied: “O father, if this be the case, let orders be given to have the city swept and garnished; I will choose a husband for myself.”

Then the king ordered proclamation to be made in the different lands and cities that his daughter was going to choose herself a husband. He also gave orders that his own city should be cleared of stones, potsherds, and rabble, sprinkled with sandalwood water, and perfumed with odours, and that canopies, standards, and flags, should be set up, and numerous silken hangings displayed, together with flowers of many kinds, giving the appearance of a grove of the gods, and that joy-inspiring proclamation should be made to this effect: “O honourable dwellers in town and country, and crowds of men assembled from various lands, give ear! To-morrow the king’s daughter will choose herself a husband. So do ye assemble as is fitting.”

Next morning the king’s daughter, adorned with many ornaments and surrounded by numerous maidens, came to a grove made bright with flowers by the deity of the grove, rendered extremely beautiful by the dispensation of great good fortune. And when several thousand men had assembled in the midst of the city, she came into the assembly in order to choose herself a husband. Somewhat removed sat Kṣemaṅkara playing on the lute.

As men by their deeds are reciprocally connected, and the force of effect is constrained by the great power of cause, so it came to pass that the king’s daughter, when her feelings were moved by the sound of the lute, became closely attached to Kṣemaṅkara’s playing, and she threw him the crown of flowers, crying, “This man is my husband.”

The assembled people were discontented, and some of them in bitterness of heart began to find fault with her, saying, “What sense is there in this, that the royal princess, who has so much beauty, and who is so supremely young and accomplished, should slight the sons of kings, ministers, and purohitas, who have come from many lands, besides excellent householders, and should choose a blind man to be her husband?”

With reluctance and discontent did the officials convey the tidings to the king, saying, “O king, the princess has completed the choice of a husband.” The king said, “What manner of man has she chosen?” They replied, “O king, a blind man.” The king also was displeased when he heard this, and he sent for his daughter and said, “O daughter, wherefore have you chosen such a man as your husband, in spite of there being extremely young, rich and handsome sons of kings, proprietors, merchants, caravan leaders, ministers, and purohitas?” She replied, “O father, this is the man I want.” The king said, “O daughter, if that be so, then go to him. Wherefore do you delay?” She went to him and said, “I have chosen you as my husband.” He replied, “Therein you have not acted well. Perhaps you have thought, ‘as such is the case and this man is blind, I can give myself to another.’” She replied, “I am not one who does such things.” He said, “What proof is there of this?” She replied, commencing an asseveration—

“If it be true, and my asseveration is righteous, that I have been in love only with Prince Kṣemaṅkara and with you, but with none else, then through the power of this truth and my asseveration shall one of your two eyes become sound as before.”

So soon as this asseveration was uttered, one of his eyes came again just as it was before. Then he said, “I am Kṣemaṅkara. My brother Pāpaṅkara reduced me to the state I was in.” She said, “What proof is there that you are Prince Kṣemaṅkara?” Then he too began to asseverate, saying—

“If it be true, and my asseveration righteous, that although Pāpaṅkara put out my eyes, I do not in the least bear him malice, then in consequence of the truth and affirmation may my other eye become sound as before.”

So soon as he had pronounced this asseveration, his other eye also became as it had been originally. Then the royal princess betook herself to the king, along with Kṣemaṅkara, who was no longer imperfect in any part of his body, and said, “O father, this is Kṣemaṅkara himself.” As the king was incredulous, she told him how everything had come about. The king was exceedingly astonished, but with great joy did he give his daughter to Kṣemaṅkara as his wife. Then he set forth with a great army for that city, and drove Pāpaṅkara from power, and set Kṣemaṅkara as king upon his father’s throne.

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

Kṣemaṅkara, “promoting well-being, causing peace and security, propitious,” &c.

[2]:

The opposite of Kṣemaṅkara, from pāpa, bad.