And one night as he lay among his women, and they, abandoned to sleep, surrounded him, lovely as maidens of Mount Sumeru, he leaned against his silken cushions and the hall became hateful to him and he could no more endure it, but rose softly and put on his gilded shoes and went out into the midnight gardens where dripping dew impearled every leaf and blossom and glittered in pure moonlight, and the cool and calm were excellent. And he walked under the black and white light and dark of a long path by trees whose carven leaves hung like sculptured stone in the stillness of the air and their shadows flitted like dreams over his robes and face as he went, meditating upon the unspeakable weariness and distaste that filled him and the uncomforted wretchedness of youth that in all the world can find no good. And he said aloud: “O my heart, how oppressive it is! O, my soul, the speechless weariness! Who in all the world shall show me any good.” So, in his walking, he came to the gate of the garden and it stood wide open and the porter lay drowned in sleep, his face hidden from the moonlight, and there was none to see who came or went, and Yasas wandered on through dewy ways and silver pools of moonlight, not knowing where he went, having fled the house because he could no longer endure his despair. And as he came at last to the Deer Park of Isipatana the darkness began to thin for dawn. And so it was that the Lord had risen from sleep and walked beneath the trees of Isipatana in meditation and he saw a young man coming, and in the great stillness heard him say: “O my grief, how deep is my wretchedness,” and he pitied him, for he himself had been a rich young man, and he knew his heart. So, taking his seat, the Blessed One said aloud: “Sir, you are weary, but I hold in my hand a life that is neither grievous nor wretched. Sit down beside me and hear the Law. This doctrine, Yasas, is not oppressive. This is not afflicting.” And Yasas seeing beneath the trees a young man of royal bearing and beauty like to but surpassing his own, yet robed as a monk, was startled. Nor could he refuse, and he took off his gilded shoes and having saluted the stranger with courtesy sat down beside him, and in the quiet of the coming dawn, the Blessed One spoke. And first he spoke of the misery, worthlessness and ruin of lust, of the strong calm of renunciation, of the high way of the Law, and as he heard, in place of burning disgust there flowed into the heart of Yasas the refreshing streams of wisdom, as when a man sets hot and travel-worn feet in the coolness of a pellucid lake. And there was that fruit of former births within the noble youth which drew him to high things, even as a pure silken fabric is with ease dyed a noble colour.