English · E. B. Cowell (ed.), R. Chalmers, W. H. D. Rouse, H. T. Francis, R. A. NeilOnce upon a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta was conceived in the womb of his priest’s chief wife. On the day of his birth, the king also had a son born. On the naming day they called the Great Being Susima-Kumara, and the king’s son Brahmadatta- Kumara, The king, seeing the two were born on the same day, had the Bodhisatta given to the nurse and brought up together with his own son. They both grew up fair, like sons of gods: they both learned all sciences at Takkasila and came home again. The prince became viceroy, eating, drinking, and living along with the Bodhisatta: at his father’s death he became king, giving great honour to the Bodhisatta and making him his priest: one day he adorned the city, and decked like Sakka, king of gods, he went round the city in procession, seated on the shoulder of a royal elephant in his pride, equal to Eravana’, with the Bodhisatta behind on the elephant’s back. The queen-mother, looking out from the royal window to see her son, saw the priest behind him as he came back from the procession: she fell in love with him and entering her chamber thought, “If I cannot win him, I shall die here”: so she left her food and lay there. The king, not seeing her, asked after her: when he heard she was ill, he went to her, and asked with respect what ailed her. She would not tell for shame. He sat on the royal throne, and sent his own chief queen to find what ailed his mother. She went and asked, stroking the queen-mother’s back. Women do not hide secrets from women: and the secret was told. The queen went and told the king. He said, “Well, go and comfort her: I will make the priest king, and make her his chief queen.” She went and comforted her. The king sent for the priest and told him the matter, “Friend, save my mother’s life: thou shalt be king, she thy chief queen, I viceroy.” The priest said, “It cannot be”: but being asked again he consented: and the king made the priest king, the queen-mother chief queen, and himself viceroy. They lived all in harmony together, but the Bodhisatta pined amid a householder’s life: he left desires and leaned to a religious life: careless of the pleasures of sense he stood and sat and lay alone, like a man bound in jail or a cock in a cage. The chief queen thought, ‘The king avoids me, he stands and sits and lies alone; he is young and fresh, I am old and have grey hairs: what if I were to tell him a story that he has one grey hair, make him believe it and seek my company” One day, as if cleaning the king’s head, she said, “Your majesty is getting old, there is a grey hair on your head.” “Pull it out and put it in my hand.” She pulled a hair out, but threw it away and put into his hand one of her own grey hairs. When he saw it, fear of death made the sweat start from his forehead, though it was like a plate of gold. He admonished himself, saying, “‘Susima, you have become old in your youth; all this time sunk in the mud of desire, like a village pig wallowing in filth and mire, you cannot leave it: quit desires, and become an ascetic in the Himalaya: it is high time for the religious life,” and with this thought, he uttered the first stanza:—