The king had received him very ungraciously, and, without desiring to hear anything of the village quarrel which he had settled, had ordered him, with threats, to acknowledge the whole truth about Angulimala, which Satagira was now obliged to confess to me also, without having the smallest idea that I was already so well informed on the subject. For the rest, he only saw in it a proof of his “boundless love” for me, and spoke of my love for thee lightly, as of a foolish youthful sentimentality which would, in any case, have assuredly led to nothing.
The matter had come to the king’s ears in the following way.
During Satagira’s absence, the police had succeeded in tracking down Angulimala’s accomplice, who had, in the course of a severe examination, given the assurance that the robber in question was really Angulimala himself, that the latter did not die under torture at that former time, as the Minister had always asserted, but had escaped; he had also confessed Angulimala’s intended attack on the Krishna grove. His majesty was naturally incensed in the last degree, first at Satagira’s having allowed the execrable robber to escape, and then at his having cheated the whole of Kosambi and its king with the false head he had set up. He wouldn’t listen to any words of defence, or even of excuse. If Satagira didn’t within three days render Angulimala incapable of further mischief—as the people so stormily demanded—then all the consequences of the royal displeasure would be visited upon him with the utmost rigour.
After Satagira had related the whole tale, he threw himself weeping upon the seat, tore his hair, and behaved like one distraught.
“Be comforted, my husband,” I said. “Follow my counsel, and not in three days, but before this day is over, thou shalt again be in possession of the royal favour; yes, and not only so, but it shall shine upon thee even more brightly than before.”
Satagira sat up and looked at me as one might gaze upon some strange natural phenomenon.
“And what, then, is this counsel of thine?”
“Return to the king and persuade him to betake himself to the Sinsapa wood beyond the city gates. There let him seek the Lord Buddha at the ancient temple, and ask counsel from him. The rest will follow of itself.”
“Thou art a wise woman,” said Satagira. “In any case, thy counsel is very good, for that Buddha is said to be the wisest of all men. Although it can hardly have such good results for me as thou dost imagine, I shall nevertheless make the attempt.”
“For the results,” I replied, “I shall answer with my honour.”
“I believe thee, Vasitthi!” he exclaimed, springing up and seizing my hand. “How were it possible not to believe thee? By Indra! thou art a wonderful woman; and I now see how little I was mistaken when, in my yet inexperienced youth, as though obeying some instinct, I chose thee alone from amid the rich bevy of Kosambi’s maidens, and did not suffer myself to be diverted from my love by thy coldness.”
The heat with which he poured forth his praise caused me almost to repent that I had given him such helpful counsel; but his very next words brought relief with them, for he now spoke of his gratitude, which would be exhaustless, no matter to what proof I should put it.
“I have but a single petition to make, the granting of which will testify sufficiently to thy gratitude.”
“Name it to me at once,” he cried, “and if thou dost even demand that I should send Vajira with her son back to her parents I shall, without hesitation, do thy will.”
“My request is a just, no unjust, one. I shall only prefer it, however, when my counsel has proved itself in the fullest degree to be reliable. But hurry now to the palace and win his majesty over to pay this visit.”
He returned fairly soon, delighted that he had succeeded in prevailing upon the king to undertake the expedition.
“Not until Udena heard that the counsel came from thee, and that thou hadst vouched for its success with thine honour, did he consent; for he also thinks great things of thee. Oh, how proud am I of such a wife!”
These and similar speeches, of which in his confident mood there was no lack, were painful enough to me, and would have been more painful still if I had not, throughout the whole matter, had my own secret thoughts to buoy me up.
We betook ourselves at once to the palace, where already preparations were being made for the start.
As soon as the sun’s rays had somewhat modified their intensity, King Udena mounted his state elephant, the celebrated Bhaddavatika, which, because she was now very old, was only used on the gravest occasions. We, the chamberlain, the lord of the treasury, and other high dignitaries came after in wagons; two hundred horsemen opening, and the same number bringing up the rear of, the procession.
At the entrance to the wood, the king caused Bhaddavatika to kneel down, and himself dismounted; the others of us left the wagons and betook ourselves in his train, on foot, to the Krishna temple, where the Buddha, who had already been informed of the approaching royal visit, awaited us, surrounded by his disciples.
The king gave the Master a reverential greeting, and, stepping to one side, seated himself. And when we others had also taken our seats, the Perfect One asked—
“What troubles thee, O noble king? Has the King of Benares perhaps, or one of the others of thy royal neighbours, threatened thy land with war?”
“The King of Benares does not, O Reverend One, nor
