Part 8: Later history of the image

King Udāyana himself, who was devoted to ascetics, went there, and Brāhmans with the triple staff and other ascetics. The people themselves, recalling Viṣṇu, Brahmā, Śiva and any other favorite god, struck the wooden box with an axe. The iron axes, struck against it constantly by the people at their pleasure, fell to pieces as if made of tin. While the king was absorbed in this wonder from break of day, midday came with the heat that burns the forehead. Queen Prabhāvatī, who knew that it was past the king’s mealtime, sent a servant to call the king. Indeed, that was suitable for one devoted to her husband. Prabhāvatī, directed by the king to see the miracle, went to the place and asked about it; and the king described just what had happened.

The queen said: ‘Verily, Brahmā and the other gods are not supreme gods. The Blessed Arhat alone is god of gods, the supreme lord. Therefore, doubtless an image of the Arhat, and no one else, is here. It does not give a sight of itself from the repetition of the names of Brahmā and other gods. I myself will show the statue of the Lord Arhat by repetition of his name. O people, behold the wonder.’ Prabhāvatī rubbed the box with an ointment made of five ingredients, threw handfuls of flowers on it, bowed, and said, ‘May the Arhat, free from love, hate, and delusion, attended by the eight miraculous appearances, god of gods, omniscient, grant me a sight of himself.’

When the queen said this, the box containing the image burst open voluntarily, like a lotus-bud at dawn. Within was seen the sandal-wood image made by the god, with unwithered wreath, complete with every limb.^[1] So there was a demonstration beyond measure of the doctrine of the Arhat. Prabhāvatī bowed to the image and chanted a hymn of praise: ‘O Teacher of the World, having the appearance of the moon, knowing all things, free from rebirth, Arhat, delight of all bhavyas, thought-gem of the universe, hail!’ After she had honored the sea-trader like a relative, Prabhāvatī conducted the statue to the women’s quarters and held a festival. Prabhāvatī had a shrine made, set up the statue there, and made a pūjā together with a bath at dawn, noon, and sunset.

One day after she had worshipped the image with joy, Prabhāvatī together with her husband gave a faultless concert. The king played the lute with singing accompanied by collections of tones, with clear vyaṭjanadhātus, with clear notes, with clear melodies. The queen, delighted, danced the lāsya together with the tāṇḍava,^[2] with distinct aṅgahāras and karaṇās, splendid with dramatic interpretations of the body. Once for a moment the king did not see Prabhāvatī’s head, but saw her body dancing like a torso in a battle. The king was disturbed at once by the sight of the bad omen and the lute slipped from his hand, as if he were going to sleep. The queen was angered by the sudden interruption of the tāṇḍava and said, ‘Why am I deprived of (musical) time, since you have stopped playing?’ Thus asked again and again the reason for dropping the lute, the king told what had happened. For a woman’s persistence is very powerful.

The queen said: ‘Dear, according to that bad omen,

I am short-lived. Let death come to me who have followed the teaching of the Arhat since birth. I am not afraid. On the contrary, the sight of the bad omen is cause for joy on my part, since it is a warning to me to give up worldly things completely.’ After this speech, the queen with unchanged intention went to the women’s apartments; the king, whose ears were closed to the religion of the Arhat, was disregarded.

One day Queen Prabhāvatī, whose purificatory bath had been taken, had a slave-girl bring her clothes suitable for the occasion of worship of the god. By the force of impending calamity, the queen saw these clothes red and became angry, saying, ‘These are not suitable at this time.’ Because of her anger, Queen Prabhāvatī struck with a hand-mirror the slave-girl, who died from such a (small) thing. For the course of death is uneven. At once Prabhāvatī saw that the clothes were really white and she thought: ‘Alas! I have broken a vow. The killing of any other five-sensed being is cause for hell. How much more this killing of a woman! Therefore, it is better that I take the vow.’

Then Queen Prabhāvatī, making an aṭjali, described the evil omen to the king and the disgust with worldly existence from the great crime of killing the slave-girl, and made the following request: ‘Master, I do not have long to live. Permit me to abandon completely worldly things now, lord. You saw me headless; moreover, just now I saw the clothes change color. That is a double ill-omen. Lord, do not create any obstacle to my taking now the vow of mendicancy for which the time is suitable, as the fact that I am to live for a short time is indicated by the double ill omen.’

Thus addressed with importunity, the king replied:

‘Chief-queen, do whatever is pleasing to you. When you have attained divinity, queen, you must enlighten me daily. For my sake, you must endure for the moment the delay to the delights of heaven.’ Then having attained complete indifference to worldly things and having fasted, she died, and became a very powerful god in the first heaven.

A hunchbacked slave-girl, named Devadattā, made the pūjās to the image of the god of gods that had been placed in the shrine of the women’s apartments. Now the god Prabhāvatī knew by clairvoyance that Udāyana, though being enlightened, was not enlightened,^[3] so she planned this stratagem. One day the god assumed the form of an ascetic and approached the king, carrying a bowl filled with divine, immortal fruit. Saying, ‘An ascetic bearing a gift is like sweet-smelling gold,’ the king honored the ascetic highly because of his devotion to ascetics. The king ate the fruit which was ripe, more fragrant than camphor, and brought by an esteemed person, as if it were seeds of the highest joy.

‘Where did you get such remarkably fine fruit? Show me the place,’ the king asked him. ‘Not very far from this city, there is a hermitage, restful to the sight, which produces such fruit.’ ‘Show me the hermitage,’ said the king and the god by his own power isolated him and led him away, as if to give the information. After he had gone a short distance, he created a garden delightful with such fruit and filled with many ascetics, like Nandana. ‘This is an ascetics’ garden and, as I am devoted to them, my wish for fruit will be granted.’ With this thought the king ran forward like a monkey. Then, abused by these fictitious ascetics running up angrily, the king fled like a thief; but his mind was not confused.

As he fled, he saw sādhus standing ahead, who gave him protection, saying, ‘Do not be afraid.’ Comforted by them and recovered, the king thought, ‘Alas from birth I have been deceived by these cruel ascetics.’ The sādhus instructed him to this effect: ‘Truly, dharma is a protection in worldly existence. A wise man, seeking dharma, should consider god, dharma, and a guru. A god free from the eighteen faults,^[4] a religion endowed with compassion, a teacher really chaste who has no enterprises nor possessions.’ The king was enlightened by instruction such as this and the religion of the Jina became fixed in his heart as if engraved there. The god became visible and, having established the king in the religion of the Arhat, went away. Then the king found himself in the midst of the assembly. From that time King Udāyana was completely possessed by the principles of god, guru, and religion.

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

This is the “old” statue which must be kept distinct from the one substituted by Pradyota, which was dug up by Kumārapāla in Chapter XII.

[2]:

Lāsya is a women’s dance; tāṇḍava is a men’s dance with violent movements, usually applied to the dance of Śiva and his votaries, I do not understand why Prabhāvatī would dance the tāṇḍava.

[3]:

This is not in agreement with Mahāvīra’s doctrine that “being done is done,” but accords with Jamāli’s heresy. See above, p. 194.

[4]:

Obstacles to giving, to receiving, to strength, to enjoyment of objects used once, to enjoyment of objects used repeatedly, laughter, liking (for objects), dislike (of objects), fear, disgust, sorrow, sexual love, wrong-belief, ignorance, sleep, lack of self-control, love, hatred. Abhi, 1. 72-73 and com., IV, n. 12.