But after awhile remembrance returned to her and his silence and the distance wide as heaven and earth between them, and she rose with majesty and withdrew herself to one side and stood with bowed head while the Maharaja declared to the Perfected One her griefs and patience and mortifications so that she might resemble him, abjuring her bed for a mat laid upon the ground, and the feasts of the palace for one poor meal a day, and much more. And the Prince heard and speaking slowly, still with his eyes upon her, said: “This is true. Great also was the virtue of this high lady, the mother of Rahula, virtue in a former life which I remember and she too will remember one day with gladness. Lady, mother of my son, the way that I have opened is open for you also. Come and hear.” And with his eyes upon her to the last he turned and went away. So that evening, seated by the bank of Rohini, the Perfect One taught the Way before his own people, and they crowded to hear; and this high lady seated, veiled so that none might see her hidden eyes, heard also, and as she listened, illusion fell from her; she perceived the Unchanging, the Formless, the Beautiful, and the illusory forms of this world and the delusion of time fell from her also, and she beheld her love no longer past and done with, but eternal as the eternity of the Self that alone endures, and the imprisoning self which alone can suffer died within her and left her enfranchised, and inward light shone upon her and she knew the truth. So also was it with the Maharaja and the Maharani Prajapati and many more. But on the next day the Princess Yashodara called to her son Rahula and dressed him in his best until he shone bright and beautiful as a star, and she laid her cheek against his, saying: “Go now, beloved, and seek your father and ask for your inheritance.” And he answered: “Mother, I know of no father but the Maharaja. What father? And why should he withhold my inheritance?” And she said: “Go and ask. But first see, that you may know him.” She led the boy to the window and pointed. “That monk, clothed in the yellow robe, he whose face shines like the sun in its strength, is your father. And he has great wealth—riches, not to be told in words. Go, son, and demand your inheritance.” And the boy went, wondering and desiring, and in the garden he ran quickly and catching the robe of the Blessed One, he said: “My father, how happy I am to be near you. O day of gladness,” and tears of joy overflowed his eyes, seeing his father so great and beautiful. But to test him, the Blessed One was silent, pacing toward the Nyagrodha grove, and still the child followed, entreating for his inheritance. Then when they reached the grove, the Perfected One turned smiling to Sariputta the great disciple, and he said: “Monk, what think you? For worldly wealth perishes, but this remains. Shall I make my son heir to the Greatest? Let us admit him to the Order.”