In the Kalinga country was a city called Beautiful, where people lived
as happily as in heaven. There ruled a famous king named Pradyumna. And
in a part of this city was a region set apart by the king, where many
Brahmans lived. Among them was a learned, wealthy, pious, hospitable
Brahman named Sacrifice.
In his old age a single son was born to him and his worthy wife. The
boy grew under the fostering care of his father, and showed signs of
excellence. He was called Devasoma by his father, and his parents were
entirely devoted to him.
In his sixteenth year the boy attracted everyone by his learning and
modesty. Then he suddenly fell ill of a fever and died. When his father
and mother saw that he was really dead, they embraced the body and wept
aloud. But their love for him would not permit them to burn the body.
So the old relatives gathered, and said to the father: "Brahman, life
is imaginary like a city in the sky. Do you not know this, you who know
things above and things below? The kings who enjoyed themselves like
gods upon the earth, they have gone one by one to cemeteries filled
with processions of weeping ghosts. Their bodies were burned by the
flesh-devouring fire and eaten by jackals. No one could prevent it in
their case. How much less in the case of others? Therefore, as you are
a wise man, tell us what you mean by embracing this dead body?"
So at last the relatives persuaded him to let his son go, and they put
the body in a litter and brought it to the cemetery with weeping and
wailing.
At that time a hermit was fulfilling a hard vow, and was living in a
hut in the cemetery. He was very thin because of his age and his hard
life. His veins stuck out like cords to bind him, as if afraid that he
would break in pieces. His hair was tawny like the lightning.
This hermit heard the wailing of the people, and turned to his pupil
who begged food for him. Now this pupil was proud and arrogant. And the
hermit said: "My boy, what is this wailing we hear? Go outside and find
out, then return and tell me why this unheard-of commotion is taking
place."
But the pupil said: "I will not go. Go yourself. My hour for begging is
passing by."
Then the teacher said: "Fool! Glutton! What do you mean by your hour
for begging? Only one half of the first watch of the day is gone."
Then the bad pupil became angry and said: "Decrepit old man! I am not
your pupil. And you are not my teacher. I am going away. Do your
begging yourself." And he angrily threw down his staff and bowl before
the old man, and got up, and went away.
Then the hermit laughed. He left his hut and went to the place where
the dead Brahman boy had been brought to be burned. He saw how the
people mourned over such youthful freshness dead, and felt his own age
and weakness. So he made up his mind to exchange his body for the other
by magic.
He went aside and wept at the top of his voice. Then he danced with all
the proper gestures.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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