Buddhist Scriptures

by Donald Lopez

  So King Candraprabha offered crowns, turbans, clothing, ornaments and jewels to the people of Jambudvīpa. He gave gifts of necklaces, bracelets, arm-bands, small and large garlands of pearls, and so forth. King Candraprabha gave away so many ornaments, crowns, turbans and garments fit for kings that all of the people of Jambudvīpa were wearing crowns and turbans. All of the people of Jambudvīpa looked exactly like King Candraprabha!

  Then King Candraprabha had a bell-ringing proclamation made in all 68,000 cities: ‘May all you good people of Jambudvīpa amuse yourselves with the amusements of kings for as long as I live!’

  Hearing King Candraprabha’s bell-ringing proclamation, all of the people of Jambudvīpa began to amuse themselves with the amusements of kings. With thousands of lutes, flutes, drums, bells, kettledrums, war drums, tabors, cymbals and conch shells, with the sounds of hundreds of musical instruments being played, wearing arm-bands, necklaces, jewels, pearls, ornaments and rings, surrounded by groups of young women adorned with all types of adornments, they experienced the prosperity of kings.

  And as the people of Jambudvīpa were amusing themselves with the sport of kings, the air was full of the sound of lutes, flutes, drums, bells, kettledrums, tabors and war drums; the sound of cymbals and reed-pipes throughout the 68,000 cities; and the lovely, delightful sound of golden kettledrums being beaten in Candraprabha’s four great sacrificial grounds. All of Jambudvīpa resounded with a delightful noise, just as the heavenly city of the Thirty-Three Gods resounds with the sound of dancing, singing and the playing of musical instruments. Thus, the whole assemblage of people who lived in Jambudvīpa, filled wholly with happiness because of the sound of singing and music, rejoiced exceedingly.

  Now, at that time, seventy-two billion people lived in the capital city of Bhadraśilā. King Candraprabha was beloved, dear and charming to them, and they never tired of gazing upon his complexion, his form, his features and his solid presence. When King Candraprabha went to the great sacrificial grounds, millions of living beings looked at him and said: ‘Look at this child of the gods, King Candraprabha, who rules here in Jambudvīpa! Indeed, there are no other men whose form and appearance are equal to those of Lord Candraprabha!’ Wherever King Candraprabha looked, there were thousands of women looking at him, thinking to themselves: ‘Fortunate are the women who are married to him!’ And they thought this with pure minds – and in no other way – so handsome was King Candraprabha.

  King Candraprabha had 12,500 ministers. Among them, there were two chief ministers, Mahācandra and Mahīdhara. They were handsome, wise, intelligent and virtuous, more distinguished than all the other ministers, wielding authority over them all, managing the king and guarding the king. The king did not have to worry about any of his affairs, for the chief minister Mahācandra constantly exhorted the people of Jambudvīpa to the ten paths of virtuous action, saying: ‘O people of Jambudvīpa, undertake and follow these ten paths of virtuous action!’ And whatever the universal emperor admonished and instructed, so, too, did the minister Mahācandra. King Candraprabha was beloved, dear and charming to the chief minister Mahācandra, who never tired of gazing upon his complexion, his form, his features and his solid presence.

  One day, the chief minister Mahācandra had a dream in which King Candraprabha’s crown was taken away by some piśādcas [goblins] who were the colour of smoke. When he awoke, he was afraid and alarmed, and his hair stood on end. ‘I hope that someone does not come and ask for Lord Candraprabha’s head,’ he thought, ‘for the lord is all-giving, and when it comes to giving everything away, there is nothing of his that he would not renounce for the sake of the miserable, the helpless, the wretched, mendicants and beggars.’

  Then he had an idea: ‘I will not tell King Candraprabha about my dream. Instead, I will order some heads to be made out of jewels and store them in the treasury. If someone comes and asks for the lord’s head, I will entice him with the jewelled heads instead!’ Thinking this, he had the jewelled heads made and stored them in the treasury.

  On another occasion, the chief minister Mahīdhara had a dream in which a boat made out of all kinds of jewels and belonging to Candraprabha’s family was broken into hundreds of pieces. Seeing this, he, too, was frightened, trembling and terrified. ‘I hope that King Candraprabha will not fall from the kingship,’ he thought, ‘and that his life will not be cut short.’

  He summoned some learned brahmin soothsayers and said to them: ‘Good Sirs, I had such-and-such a dream. Please tell me what it means!’ Then the learned brahmin soothsayers told him: ‘This dream that you had means that before too long someone will descend upon this very capital city of Bhadraśilā and ask for King Candraprabha’s head.’ Hearing this, the chief minister Mahīdhara put his cheek into his hand and remained lost in thought. ‘King Candraprabha is benevolent in nature, compassionate and affectionate towards living beings,’ he thought, ‘yet now, he is suddenly threatened by the power of impermanence!’

  Then, on yet another occasion, the 12,500 ministers had a dream in which yakṣas and karoṭapāṇis struck down the parasols, flags and banners and broke the golden kettledrums in King Candraprabha’s four sacrificial grounds. And seeing this, they, too, were frightened, trembling and terrified. ‘King Candraprabha is the protector of the great earth, benevolent in nature, compassionate and affectionate towards living beings,’ they thought. ‘May the power of impermanence not threaten him! May there not be separation, deprivation and dissociation from our lord! May Jambudvīpa not be deprived of guardianship and protection!’

  When King Candraprabha heard about these dreams, he had a bell-ringing proclamation made throughout the 68,000 cities: ‘May all you good people of Jambudvīpa amuse yourselves with the sport of kings for as long as I live! What’s the point of these worries? They are nothing more than dreams and illusions.’

  Hearing King Candraprabha’s bell-ringing proclamation, all of the people of Jambudvīpa once again began to amuse themselves with the sport of kings. With thousands of lutes, flutes, drums, bells, kettledrums, tabors, cymbals and conch shells, with the sounds of hundreds of musical instruments being played, wearing arm-bands, necklaces, jewels, pearls, ornaments and rings, surrounded by groups of young women adorned with all types of adornments, they experienced the prosperity of kings.

  And as the people of Jambudvīpa were amusing themselves with the amusements of kings, the air was full of the sound of lutes, flutes, drums, bells, kettledrums, tabors, and war drums; the sound of noise throughout the 68,000 cities; and the lovely, delightful sound of golden kettledrums being beaten in King Candraprabha’s four great sacrificial grounds. All of Jambudvīpa resounded with a delightful noise, just as the heavenly city of the Thirty-Three Gods resounds with the sound of dancing, singing and the playing of musical instruments. Thus, the whole assemblage of people who lived in Jambudvīpa, filled wholly with happiness because of the sound of singing, rejoiced exceedingly.

  Now, at that time, on Gandhamādana Mountain, there lived a brahmin sorcerer named Raudrākṣa. The brahmin Raudrākṣa heard that in the capital city of Bhadraśilā there was a king named Candraprabha who recognized himself to be all-giving.

  ‘What if I were to go and ask for his head?’ he thought. ‘If he were really so all-giving, then he would surely give me his head. But it is difficult, impossible and out of the question that anyone would renounce the most excellent part of one’s body – one’s beloved, cherished, dear and charming head. This is impossible!’

  Thinking thus, he descended Gandhamādana Mountain. Then the deities living on Gandhamādana Mountain began to cry out: ‘Alas! King Candraprabha is benevolent in nature, greatly compassionate and affectionate towards living beings, yet the power of impermanence now threatens him!’ All of Jambudvīpa became confused and agitated, as dark as smoke, with meteor showers burning in all directions, and divine kettledrums resounding in the sky.

  Now, not far from the capital city of Bhadraśilā, there lived a ṛṣi [sage] named Viśvām
itra. He possessed the five higher knowledges, was benevolent and compassionate in nature and affectionate towards living beings, and had a retinue of five hundred. When he saw that all of Jambudvīpa was confused, he spoke to the men of Jambudvīpa:

  ‘Listen, people! All of Jambudvīpa is now confused and agitated, as dark as smoke. The mighty sun and moon themselves are neither shining, nor burning, nor blazing. Some great man will certainly experience calamity!

  ‘Troops of kiṃnaras and forest deities are lamenting and troops of gods are continually emitting cries of alarm. The moon is neither shining nor glowing and its thousands of rays are dark. Even the sound of musical instruments being played has completely stopped. Clusters of trees covered with fruit and flowers are falling to the ground and being shaken by gusts of wind. Only the sound of thunder is heard. This means that the city will experience a great calamity!

  ‘All of these people, fond of living in Bhadraśilā, are depressed, struck by the arrows of extreme grief, their throats and faces quivering. Women with moon-shaped faces are crying, and everyone in this excellent dwelling place laments with intense pity, as if they were in a cemetery.

  But why do all of the people living in this city

  speak of their collective sadness only in their minds?

  An incomparable power seems to hold back their voices,

  as they cry out continually with their hands in the air.

  Clouds are bellowing, and dried-up ponds are grieving.

  On the ground and in the water, winds are blowing,

  throwing and casting people’s hair about, sharp and mixed with dust.

  ‘Indeed, there are a multitude of inauspicious signs! Therefore, it would now be in our best interests to leave this comfortable land. Listen, people! As the golden kettledrums are beaten in King Candraprabha’s four great sacrificial grounds, there is no longer a delightful sound issuing forth. Now, certainly, there will be a great calamity in Bhadraśilā!’

  Then the brahmin Raudrākṣa reached the capital city of Bhadraśilā. As soon as the goddess of the city saw the brahmin Raudrākṣa from far away, she approached King Candraprabha and said: ‘Listen, Lord! Today, a supplicant will come to the lord – malicious, injurious, looking for a point of attack, seeking a point of attack. He will ask for the lord’s head. Therefore, the lord should protect himself for the sake of living beings.’

  Now, when King Candraprabha heard about the supplicant who would ask for his head, he was delighted and his eyes opened wide with astonishment. He said to the goddess: ‘Go away, Goddess! If he comes, I will fulfil his long-held wish!’ So the goddess, depressed, dejected and saddened, understanding that such was King Candraprabha’s resolve, disappeared from that very spot. King Candraprabha thought to himself: ‘It is wonderful that I have given food to those who want food, drink to those who want drink, and clothing, gold, silver, jewels, pearls and so forth to those who want them. But what if I were to give away even my own body to supplicants?’

  Then the brahmin Raudrākṣa was stopped by the goddess while entering through the southern city gate. ‘Go away, sinful brahmin,’ she cried, ‘do not enter! O foolish man, how can you cut off the head of King Candraprabha, who is benevolent in nature, compassionate, affectionate towards living beings, endowed with many good qualities, a protector of Jambudvīpa, irreproachable and non-injurious? Do not enter, you evil and vicious brahmin!’

  As soon as King Candraprabha heard that a supplicant had been restrained by the goddess at the gate of his city, he said to the chief minister Mahācandra: ‘Listen, Mahācandra, a supplicant has been restrained by the goddess at the gate of my city. Go there quickly and bring him to me!’

  ‘Yes, Lord,’ the chief minister Mahācandra replied to King Candraprabha. He went to the city gate and said to the goddess: ‘Listen, Goddess, you have to allow this brahmin to enter. King Candraprabha has summoned him.’

  The goddess of the city said to the chief minister Mahācandra: ‘Please, Mahācandra, this cruel and vicious brahmin has come to Bhadraśilā in order to destroy King Candraprabha. Why should one who is evil in nature be allowed to enter the city? If he’s allowed to see the king, he will ask him for his head!’

  The chief minister Mahācandra told the goddess: ‘Don’t worry, Goddess, I have thought of a means by which this brahmin will not be able to take the lord’s head.’

  So the chief minister Mahācandra brought the brahmin Raudrākṣa into the city. Then he ordered the treasurers: ‘You, bring the jewelled heads! I will give them to this brahmin.’ The treasurers made a pile of jewelled heads at the king’s door. The chief minister Mahācandra showed the jewelled heads to Raudrākṣa and said: ‘Great brahmin, take these many jewelled heads, and I will also give you such abundant gold and silver that it will be the livelihood of your sons and grandsons. What do you want with the lord’s head, full of marrow, mucus and fat?’

  The brahmin Raudrākṣa replied to the chief minister Mahācandra: ‘Jewelled heads are of no use to me, nor are gold and silver. I have come into the presence of this all-giving protector of the great earth only for the sake of his head!’

  Hearing this, the chief ministers Mahācandra and Mahīdhara put their cheeks into their hands and remained lost in thought, wondering why this fateful moment had now arrived.

  When he heard what had happened, King Candraprabha called the chief ministers Mahācandra and Mahīdhara and said to them: ‘Bring the supplicant to me. I will fulfil this wish of his!’

  The chief ministers Mahācandra and Mahīdhara, with tearful and cloudy faces, full of pity and lamenting, cried out: ‘The Lord is benevolent in nature, compassionate, affectionate towards living beings, endowed with many virtues, wise and skilful and possesses the divine eye, yet the power of impermanence now threatens him! Today there will be separation, deprivation, dissociation and disjunction from our lord!’ Knowing this, they fell at the feet of the king and sat down on one side.

  Then King Candraprabha, desirous of making that sacrifice which is distinguished as the ultimate sacrifice, summoned the brahmin. ‘Come brahmin,’ he said. ‘Speak up! Take whatever you want!’

  Then the brahmin Raudrākṣa approached King Candraprabha, wished him victory and long life, and said: ‘You are firm and pure in virtue, O wise man, earnestly working for the omniscience of pure-minded beings. Bestow your head on me, with great compassion foremost in your mind! Give it to me! Satisfy me today!’

  When King Candraprabha heard the brahmin speak such words as these, he was delighted and his eyes opened wide with joy. He said to the brahmin Raudrākṣa: ‘Go ahead, brahmin, take my head, my chief limb. You’ll get no fight from me. Even though it is as dear to me as an only son, take this head of mine! May your intentions bear fruit! And by the gift of my head, may I quickly attain awakening!’

  With these words, he himself removed the crown from his head. And when King Candraprabha removed the crown from his head, the crowns of all the people of Jambudvīpa immediately fell from their heads. In the capital city of Bhadraśilā, meteor showers and fiery omens appeared in all directions, and the deities of the city let out a cry: ‘This sinful brahmin is cutting off the head of King Candraprabha!’

  Hearing this, the chief ministers Mahācandra and Mahīdhara, understanding that King Candraprabha would make such a gift of his body, with tearful and cloudy faces, clasped King Candraprabha’s feet and said: ‘O Lord, how can the people of the capital city see such an exceedingly marvellous body come to this!’ Looking up towards him, they conceived faith in King Candraprabha and gave rise to a thought of benevolence towards the brahmin Raudrākṣa. They thought to themselves: ‘We cannot bear to see the impermanence of our lord, who is a receptacle of incomparable virtues!’ At that very moment, they died, went beyond the Realm of Desire, and were reborn as gods in Brahmaloka.

  Understanding that King Candraprabha had made such a resolution as this, and hearing the pained voices of the deities living in the city, the yakṣas on earth and in the at
mosphere began to lament: ‘Alas! Now King Candraprabha will abandon his body!’ And many hundreds of thousands of living beings assembled at the door of the palace.

  Then the brahmin Raudrākṣa, seeing that great mass of people, said to King Candraprabha: ‘Listen, Lord, I cannot take the lord’s head in front of this great mass of people. So if you want to give me your head, let’s go to a private place.’

  King Candraprabha said to the brahmin Raudrākṣa: ‘Yes, great brahmin, let’s do so! Let your intentions meet with success! Let your wishes be fulfilled!’

  Then King Candraprabha got up from the royal throne, took a sharp knife and went to the Maṇiratnagarbha pleasure-park. Seeing that King Candraprabha had made such a resolution as this, many hundreds of thousands of living beings in the capital city of Bhadraśilā, crying aloud, followed behind him. King Candraprabha looked and, seeing the great congregation of people crying aloud, he again comforted them, saying: ‘Show vigilance in regard to good works!’

  Having preached the dharma to them in brief, he entered the Maṇiratnagarbha pleasure-park with the brahmin Raudrākṣa. As soon as King Candraprabha entered the Maṇiratnagarbha pleasure-park, the umbrellas, flags and banners in the capital city of Bhadraśilā bowed down towards the Maṇiratnagarbha pleasure-park.

  Then King Candraprabha closed the door of the Maṇiratnagarbha pleasure-park and spoke to the brahmin Raudrākṣa: ‘Brahmin, take my head!’

  But the brahmin Raudrākṣa said to King Candraprabha: ‘I cannot cut off the lord’s head!’

  Now, in the middle of the Maṇiratnagarbha pleasure-park, there was a kuravaka tree and a perennial campaka tree. So King Candraprabha took the sharp knife and approached the perennial campaka tree. Then the goddesses living in the pleasure-park, understanding that King Candraprabha would make such a gift of his own body, began to cry aloud and spoke thus: ‘O sinful brahmin, how can you cut off the head of King Candraprabha, who is irreproachable, non-injurious, affectionate towards many people and endowed with many virtues?’