Appendix 2 - The verses on the courtezan’s corpse and a Buddhist legend

The Buddhist antecedents of Sudatta's reflections on the corpse of a courtezan lying in the charnel-field (Yasastilaka 1. 95 ff.) have been discussed in Chapter VI. That there was an underlying story going back to ancient times seems certain; and the framework of the original narrative can be seen in the story of Sirima, as related in the Dhammapada commentary composed about the middle of the fifth century A. D. The story occurs in Book XI in connection with Dhammapada 147, and is here summarized from Burlingame: Buddhist Legends, Part 2, p. 330 (Harvard Oriental Series, Vol. 29). Certain verses of Somadeva on the dead courtezan recall the concluding words of the Teacher in the Buddhist legend. Sirima was a beautiful courtezan of Rajagaha, who used to give food to eight monks regularly in her house. A certain monk, hearing of her beauty, went to receive food in her house. She was ill at the time, but the monk was so enamoured of her that he became indifferent to all about him, and was unable to take any food. "On that very day in the evening Sirima died. Thereupon the king sent word to the Teacher, 'Reverend Sir, Jivaka's youngest sister Sirima is dead.' When the Teacher received that message, he sent back the following message to the king, 'Sirima's body should not be burned. Have her body laid in the burning-ground, and set a watch, that crows and dogs may not devour it.' The king did so. Three days passed, one after another. On the fourth day the body began to bloat, and from the nine openings of her body, which were like to sores, there oozed forth maggots." The king then issued a proclamation ordering all to approach to behold Sirima. He sent a message to the Teacher, asking that the Congre gation of Monks presided over by the Buddha might approach to behold Sirima. "Now that young monk had lain for four days without touching food, paying no attention to anything anyone said to him; the rice in his bowl had rotted, and his bowl was covered with mildew. The rest of the monks who were his fellows approached him and said to him, 'Brother, the Teacher is 1 Introduction to Vasantavilasa Mahakavya (G. O. S.), p. xii.

going forth to behold Sirima.' When the young monk, lying thus, heard the name Sirima, he leaped quickly to his feet. Someone said to him, 'The Teacher is going forth to behold Sirima; will you also go?' 'Indeed I will go', he replied. And tossing the rice out of his bowl, he washed it and put it in his net and then set out with the company of monks. The Teacher surrounded by the Congregation of Monks stood on one side of the corpse; the Congregation of Nuns and the king's retinue and the company of lay disciples, both male and female, stood on the other side of the corpse, each company in its proper place. The Teacher then asked the king, "Great king, who is this woman?" 'Reverend Sir, it is Jivaka's sister Sirima.' 'Is this Sirima?' 'Yes, Reverend Sir.' "Well! send a drum through the town and make proclamation, 'Those who will pay a thousand pieces of money for Sirima may have her.' have her.' " Not a man said 'hem' or 'hum'. The king informed the Teacher, 'They will not take her, Reverend Sir.' 'Well then, great king, put the price down.' So the king had a drum beaten and the following procla mation made, 'If they will give five hundred pieces of money, they may have her.' But nobody would take her at that price. The king then proclaimed to the beating of a drum that anyone might have her who would give two hundred and fifty pieces of money, or two hundred, or hundred, or fifty, or twentyfive, or ten, or five. Finally he reduced the price to a penny, then to a halfpenny, then to a quarter of a penny, then to an eighth of a penny. At last he proclaimed to the beating of a drum, 'They may have her for nothing.' Not a man said 'hem' or 'hum'. Then said the king to the Teacher, ' Reverend Sir , no one will take her, even as a gift.' The Teacher replied, 'Monks, you see the value of a woman in the eyes of the multitude. In this very city men used to pay a thousand pieces of money for the privilege of spending one night with this woman. Now there is no one who will take her as a gift. Such was her beauty who now has perished and gone. Behold, monks, this body diseased and corrupt.' So saying he pronounced the following stanza: 147. See this painted image, this mass of sores, huddled together, Corrupt, once possessed of many thoughts, but now possessing neither strength nor stability."