1470 
 
 UC-NRLF 
 
 ID? 
 
THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 GIFT OF 
 HORACE W. CARPENTIER 
 
A BUDDHIST LEGEND 
 

m 
 
 STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA 
 
 Sketched from the Burmese Version of the 
 Pali Text 
 
 BY 1^. AIvL,AN/ GOSS 
 
 v 
 
 Inspector of Schools, Burma 
 
 ILLUSTRATED BY A NATIVE ARTIST 
 
 risfjts 
 
 RANGOON 
 
 PRINTED AT THE AMERICAN BAPTIST MISSION PRESS 
 F, D. PHINNEY, SUPT. 
 
 1886 
 
c 
 
o tfje ij 
 
 IHcar giposiolie of ^oull^rn Surma, 
 WHOSE KINDLY ENCOURAGEMENT 
 
 FIRST LED ME TO THE STUDY OF THE BURMESE LANGUAGE 
 I WOULD RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBE 
 
 THIS ENDEAVOUR TO MAKE KNOWN TO ENGLISH READERS 
 A POPULAR BURMESE CLASSIC. 
 
 L. ALLAN GOSS. 
 
 M80994O 
 
CORRIGENDA AND ERRATA. 
 
 PREFACE, page ii, line 8,>r "free," read "full." 
 
 TEXT, 5, lines n, 15, 20, for "King Kee-wee," read "King 
 
 Kee-Kee." (a) 
 
 (a) A palm-leaf MS. met with after this book was printed, gives the name 
 of this King as " Kaing-Kaith-tha." 
 
 36, line 1 1, omit " that." 
 
 69, last line,>r " set," read " see." 
 
 70, note,>r " Akkhohini," read " Akkhohini." 
 
 for " one hundred and five," read " forty-two." 
 74, note,/<?^ " Pokkharain," read li Pokkhararh." 
 
 for " Pokkharanl," read " Pokkharam." 
 80, line %for " so gained," read " so has gained ." 
 
Within the past few years, many distinguished Orientalists have done much 
 to make the western world acquainted with that very interesting religion, 
 known as Buddhism, a religion that numbers among its votaries probably 
 more than one third of the human race. 
 
 I do not propose to touch upon its tenets in the following sketch, for the 
 subject has most exhaustively been dealt with in the many valuable and inter- 
 esting books published in recent years, but in order to make what follows clear 
 to general readers it is perhaps necessary to remark : 
 
 First, that one fundamental principle of Buddhism is a belief in the doctrine 
 of " Metempsychosis" or the transmigration of souls through perhaps innu- 
 merable existences. 
 
 Second, that the hope and endeavour of every pious Buddhist is that, by 
 virtue of merit gained in the performance of good deeds and religious duties 
 in his various existences, he may at some time or other in the more or less 
 distant future, escape from the curse of repeated existence, and attain " Naib- 
 ban," which as far as can be gathered from Buddhist metaphysics, appears to 
 t>e the absolute cessation of existence, or in other words pure and simple 
 annihilation. 
 
 The Story of We-than-da-ya purports to be the life of the Buddh Gau-da- 
 ma (Sakyamuni), the fourth of the five Buddhs appearing in this present cycle, 
 the fifth, A-ree me'-te'-ya (Pali, Metteyo) having yet to come, in his last 
 existence but one. 
 
 This story is one of ten known, on account of their size and importance, as 
 the " Large Histories." There are said to be 550 smaller ones, (some say 547 
 is the exact number) generally very brief. Each of the ten large ones relates 
 the story of one of Gau-da-ma's existences in considerable detail, the small 
 ones apparently give various incidents of his other states-. 
 
 It is also necessary to explain that one of the chief means whereby, accord- 
 ing to -Buddhist belief, a being may traverse the "sea of existence" and 
 eventually attain Naib-ban the ever desired haven of rest, is the observance of 
 ten laws or_duties, one of the chief of which is .1* giving," that is, the making 
 of offerings, the practice of charity. The highest form which the exercise off 
 
11. 
 
 this duty can take is self-abnegation, self-sacrifice ; ..and it is this particular 
 virtue that the story of We-than-cla-ya is apparently intended especially to 
 illustrate. The nine other large histories relate how Gau-da-ma performed 
 the nine other virtues in as many separate existences. The original legend 
 is written in the Magadha language, now generally spoken of as Pali, the 
 sacred language of Buddhism. The story is undoubtedly of Indian origin, 
 and the scene is laid in India. 
 
 The following sketch, for a free rendering would be much too long, is taken 
 from the Burmese translation of the text, which is probably a somewhat free, 
 and perhaps amplified, reading. It will be interesting as shewing how the story 
 is presented to the race which perhaps above all others has preserved Bud- 
 dhism in its purest form, a race in recent times brought into more inti- 
 mate contact with us than any other of the same creed, and during this present 
 year more especially so. 
 
 The story of We-than-da-ya has ever been popular among the Burmese, 
 but so long as it was only to be read in the palm leaf, manuscripts were 
 comparatively scarce, and it was perhaps better known in its dramatised form, 
 while paintings of the leading incidents of the tale have been and still are 
 largely made use of in the decoration of the pagodas, monasteries and rest 
 houses of the land. 
 
 The drama is a favorite one and its performance always attracts a large 
 audience ready to spend the entire night jnJaearingjjfJhe trials of_the p rince_ 
 and the devotion of his wife and children. It is sometimes played by children 
 who are'said to render some of the scenes, if anything, with greater effect than 
 adult actors could hope to attain. 
 
 Writing of the amusements of the Burmese, the late Captain Forbes of the 
 Burma Commission, in his interesting work on " British Burma, and its Peo- 
 ple," remarking on the drama says : 
 
 " One of the best I think, and certainly the most interesting performance, I 
 " have seen in Burma, was that of a small children's company in a village of 
 " about two hundred houses. The eldest performer was about fourteen, the 
 " daughter of the head man, a slight pretty girl ; the others boys and girls, 
 " younger. The parents and villagers generally were very proud of their 
 " talents, and they were regularly trained by an old man as stage manager, 
 " prompter, etc., etc. Their principal piece was the * Way-than-da-ra' the 
 
" story of one of the previous existences of Gau- da-ma in which he exemplified 
 " the great virtue of alms-giving and in itself one of the most affecting and 
 " beautifully written compositions in Burma." 
 
 After giving a brief outline of the play, Captain Forbes proceeds thus : 
 " The little company used to perform this piece capitally, but the acting of 
 " the little maid of fourteen in the part of the princess could not be surpassed, 
 " she seemed really to have lost herself in her part ; and her natural and 
 " graceful attitudes heightened the effect. The first time I witnessed the 
 " performance, in going round and saying a word to the tiny actors, when I 
 " came to the little fellow of ten or eleven who had acted the part of the surly 
 " and greedy brahmin, I pretended to be disgusted with his cruelty to the 
 " two poor infants. This, the little man took in earnest, so much to heart 
 " that as I learnt on my next visit, nothing would induce him to act the part 
 " again, and it was not till his father almost forcibly brought him to me and 
 " I had soothed him by what was deemed most condescending kindness, and 
 " excited his vanity that I could obtain a repetition of the play." 
 
 Captain Forbes also remarks that he has seen men moved to tears by a good 
 representation of the play, and this I can well imagine, Within the past few 
 y ears several editions of the work have been printed,and the story is conse- 
 quently more widely read and known than ever. There are few schools in 
 Burma in which a copy is not to be found, the very superior style in which the 
 work is written making it most valuable as a text book. 
 
 With this preface I may proceed, begging my readers, however, to hold me 
 blameless for the somewhat unscientific construction of the plot and the 
 hurried manner in which towards the end, the action proceeds to a somewhat 
 abrupt termination of the story. 
 
 Rangoon, 1886. L. ALLAN GOSS. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 The Burmese Translator, conscious of the task he proposes to under- 
 take, commences his labours with an invocation or dedication to the 
 Buddhist Triad, the Deity, the Law, and the Priesthood, to which he 
 pays his homage. He also makes obeisance to his Teacher as the 
 source from which he obtained his learning, and then states his intention 
 of translating the We'-than-da-ya Zat (or History) fully and completely 
 into the Burmese language. 
 
 He proceeds to say, that the legend was related by Gaudama himself 
 (after he attained Buddha-hood) at a time when he was living in the 
 Nee-grau-da-yon ' Monastery in the country of Kap-pee-la wot, 2 and 
 that the relation was brought about by the pride of his (Gaudama's) 
 kindred. 
 
 The story sets forth that after Gaudama attained Universal Knowledge on 
 the miraculous throne (Bau-dee-man-deing 3 ), he went into the country 
 Ba-ra-na-thee (Benares), on the full moon of the month Wa-so, and 
 there brought certain five hermits to a knowledge of the truth and 
 confirmed them therein. He also converted three others, (brothers), and 
 a thousand other recluses not named in the story, and then accompanied 
 by his converts proceeded to Ra-za-gyoh, 4 in accordance with a promise 
 he had made before he became Buddha to King Paim-pa-tha-ra. Arrived 
 there, he made the We-loo-won Monastery 5 his residence, and stayed 
 
 1. Negrodho. The banyan or Indian fig tree (Ficus Indica). 
 
 2. Kappilavatthu, the town of Kapilavastu, the birth place of Sakyamuni. 
 
 3. Each Buddh attains Buddhahood seated under a tree, which from that 
 
 time becomes a sacred object and is called Bodhirukkho, or "tree of 
 Buddhahood," and also simply Bodhi. Sakyamuni's bo tree was an 
 Assattha or Ficus religiosaj that of his predecessor Kassapa a Nigrodha, 
 or Indian Fig. The tree under which Sakyamuni attained Buddhaship 
 no longer exists, but a branch or shoot from it was planted at Anuradha- 
 pura in Ceylon in B. C. 288, and the tree grown from this still flourishes. 
 The miraculous throne under the Bodhi tree, upon which Sakyamuni sat 
 when he attained Buddhahood is termed Bodhimando. 
 
 4. Rajagaham, name of the capital of Magadha. 
 
 5. Veluvanam. A bamboo grove; name of a monastery presented by King 
 
 Bimbisara to Gaudama Buddha. 
 
2 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 there the winter. While there, two heretic priests named Oo-pa-dai- 
 tha and Kau-lee-ta, seeking the truth, listened to the preaching of 
 A-tha-zee, the youngest of the five converted hermits, and attained the 
 state Thau-ta-pan. * In a very short time, under the instruction of 
 Gaudama, they attained the state of Ra-han-da, 2 and were appointed 
 respectively, the right and left hand (or first and second) disciples of 
 Gaudama, under the names of Tha-ree-pot-ta-ra and Moug-ga-lan. By 
 the conversion of other persons the number of Ra-han-das in Ra-za-gyoh 
 was raised to ten thousand. 
 
 The father of Gaudama, King Thod-dhau-da-na, learning that his son 
 was in Ra-za-gyoh, on nine occasions sent a nobleman with a thousand 
 attendants to invite him to come to him, but all these were converted 
 and became Ra-han-das. 
 
 At last the nobleman Ka-loo-da-yee, (born at the same moment as Gau- 
 dama,) was sent with a retinue of one thousand followers, and they too 
 becoming converted, the number of Ra-han-das of Kap-pee-la-wot was 
 also ten thousand. 
 
 Gaudama then accepted his father's invitation and set out for Kap-pee- 
 la-wot, under the guidance of Ka-loo-da-yee. The distance was sixty 
 yoo-za-na, 3 and travelling at the ordinary rate of one yoo-za-na per day 
 two months were spent on the journey. 
 
 When he arrived at his destination, the Tha-gee-win Princes (his rela- 
 tives) said : " Let us go and behold our beloved Thaid-dat, the head and 
 chief of our race." So they assembled together, and after consultation, 
 selected the Nee-grau-da garden for his residence, and in it built a 
 monastery. Then taking flowers and perfumes in their hands, they went 
 out to meet him, making the children of the town go first, dressed in 
 fine attire and bedecked with jewels. 
 
 Their own children followed next, and after having offered flowers and 
 perfumes to Gaudama, the Tha-gee-win Princes invited him to the 
 Monastery they had made ready for him. He accepted their invitation 
 and went thither, surrounded by his twenty thousand Ra-han-das, the 
 glory of his appearance resembling that of the full moon, begirt by the 
 multitude of stars. 
 
 I. Sotnpnnno, one who has entered the stream, a converted man. 
 
 .int of high degree. 
 3. Yo/annm, about 12 Knglish miles. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA YA. 3 
 
 The Historian relates that the Tha-gee-win Princes, being descended 
 from King Ma-ha-tha-ma-da, * were puffed up with the pride of their un- 
 broken lineage, and in consequence were very haughty. So Gaudama's 
 father, uncles, aunts, elder brother, grandfathers, and grandmothers, 
 thinking " he is our son, our nephew, our younger brother, grandchild, 
 and younger than we are," said to the younger princes and princesses : 
 " Do you go and make obeisance ; we will remain in the back ground." 
 
 Gaudama, seeing their want of respect and knowing their thoughts, 
 at once, by virtue of his power, rose in the air, and worked a wonderous 
 miracle, which, says the translator, was exactly similar to that displayed 
 on another occasion, to confound certain heretics and to controvert their 
 doctrines. 
 
 In the present instance, the miracle was equally effective. King 
 Thod-dau-da-na was at once humbled and ready to make obeisance, 
 and after having briefly related how that on two previous occasions (first 
 at Gaudama's birth, when he tried to bow the infant's head to the holy 
 hermit Deweela but in vain, the infant on the contrary placing his foot 
 on the hermit's head and thus claiming superiority ; and second, at the 
 harvest festival when the infant was placed in the shade of a Tha-byd 
 [Eugenia] tree, its branches bent to protect the child from the rays of 
 the sun as it followed its course) he had been compelled to do so, he 
 again for the third time did respectful homage. 
 
 Of the whole Tha-gee-win Princes, none dared to refuse to do reve- 
 rence, but all became as docile pupils before their teacher. 
 
 Gaudama having thus drawn out and broken the pride-tusk of his rela- 
 tions, descended from the air and took his seat in the place prepared 
 for him. The Tha-gee-win Princes having humbled themselves, the 
 whole heavens resounded with thunder claps ; and an abundant cold 
 rain, of a copper colour, fell clattering like the rain drops that fall on the 
 flat thin leaves of the lilies in a lotus pond. 
 
 The miraculous feature of this rain was that it wetted only those who 
 were willing to be wet, for on those who did not desire it not a drop fell. 
 Cries of admiration and astonishment arose throughout the assembly ; 
 on hearing which, Gaudama turned to his followers, and remarked that 
 it was not the first time he had caused a miraculous rain to fall on an 
 
 i. Mahasammato, The Great Elect. This is the traditional name of the 
 first king. 
 
4 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 assembly of his relatives, but that he had done so in a former time 
 (existence) on the accomplishment of certain religious duties. 
 
 After saying this, he fell into a state of religious abstraction, and re- 
 mained silent. 
 
 His followers (Rahans l ) begged him to relate the history of this 
 rain, when Gaudama, not satisfied with giving merely the story of the 
 rain as asked by his disciples, related the whole We-than-da-ya Zat, 
 omitting none of its circumstances, his words flowing forth, like water 
 from a pitcher, in an unbroken stream. 
 
 Gaudama first takes his hearers back to a far distant time, when a certain 
 king, Thee-wa. ruled in a province called Se-dot-ta-ya, of the land Thee-wa. 
 He had a son named Thain-see, who espoused the daughter of another 
 king named Mad-da. 
 
 Her name was Po-tha-dee, and she vas Prince Thain-see's first 
 (chief) queen. 
 
 Gaudama gives some particulars of her former existences, explaining 
 that ninety-one cycles of years before the present one, the Buddh Wee-pa- 
 thee appeared in Ban-doo-ma-dee, and was living in the peaceful Mee- 
 ga-da-won garden at the time that the King of Ban-doo-ma-dee received 
 from some other sovereign, a gift of valuable sandalwood, and a costly 
 golden wreath. These the king gave to his two daughters, who resolved 
 not to devote them to their own use, but to offer them to the Buddh. 
 Accordingly, with their father's permission, the elder girl ground the 
 sandalwood to powder, and the younger one made a necklace of the golden 
 wreath. These they carried to the garden as offerings on golden trays. 
 
 Arrived there, the elder, having offered a part of the powder and 
 perfumed the Buddh's cell with the remainder, in the following words 
 made her request ; " By virtue of the merit I shall gain, O glorious Buddh, 
 " by thus offering to thee this sandalwood perfume, may I in future time 
 " become the holy mother of a Buddh who shall be, even as thou art, the 
 " teacher of the three estates a of men." The younger sister made no such 
 ambitious request, but having presented her necklace, begged that until 
 such time, no matter how far distant, as she should attain to Naibban, a 
 semblance of the necklace should always appear imprinted on her body. 
 
 I. Recluses, monks. 2. Of rational beings : Men, Nats, Brahmas. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 5 
 
 After they had made these requests, the Btiddh instructed them in the 
 law and they went their way. 
 
 In due course the two princesses died, and transmigrated to the abode 
 of Nats. The elder for ninety-one cycles of years passed to and fro 
 between the abodes of nats and men, never once falling into a state of 
 punishment, and at the end of that time, in the present Bad-da-kat cycle, 
 became Ma-ha 1 Ma-ya, the holy mother of the Buddh, that is, of Gauda- 
 ma himself. 
 
 The younger sister, having in like manner passed through innumerable 
 existences, during this present cycle in the era of the Buddh Ka-tha-pa, 
 at length became the daughter of King Kee-wee, and being born bear- 
 ing the semblance of a most beautiful necklace on her bosom, as it were 
 drawn by the hand of a painter, was named Oo-ris-sa-da. 
 
 At the age of sixteen, having listened to a discourse of the Buddh, she 
 attained saintship ; and on another occasion her father, King Kee-wee, 
 reached the same state. 
 
 Princess Oo-ris-sa-da, as a lay-woman, afterwards became a Ra-han-da- 
 ma, and subsequently a'recluse (Ra-han-ma), and in that state came to the 
 end of her existences, that is, attained Naibban. 
 
 King Kee-wee had seven other daughters besides Oo-ris-sa-da, who, in 
 the time of Gaudama, all became personages more or less intimately 
 connected with him. It will, however, suffice to say that the sixth, named 
 Thoo-dam-ma, eventually became the holy mother of Gaudama, Ma-ha 
 Ma-ya. 
 
 She now becomes the subject of the narrative, which states that 
 Princess Thoo-dam-ma, having performed many charitable deeds, passed 
 several existences in the abodes of nats and men, and eventually appeared 
 in the world as the daughter of the chief queen of King Mad-da, and as 
 she was born all fragrant, as though her body had been washed with sandal- 
 wood water, she was named Po-tha-dee. 
 
 And now again the story goes back a step to relate that Po-tha-dee, 
 immediately before she became the daughter of King Mad-da, was the 
 consort of the Tha-gya, 2 and that at the time when her existence in that 
 state was nearly spent, the Tha-gya knowing by certain five signs that her 
 life was about to end, carried her, with her multitude of attendants, to 
 the Nan-da-won garden, where he placed her on a jewelled couch, 
 
 I. Maha, great, excellent. 2. Indra, the chief of the Devas, or Nats. 
 
6 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 and then seating himself beside her, told her in a thousand stanzas that 
 he would grant her ten boons or favours. 
 
 The following is given as the substance of his speech. " Oh thou of 
 " beauteous form, of body and appearance so fair and pure, whose every 
 " limb is full of beauty, so soft and small, so smooth, so delicate ; for the 
 " sake of all these thy charms, my supremely beloved, my Po-tha-dee, 
 " ten boons I grant thee ; consider and see what things up to ten will 
 " please thy heart, and these demand and have." 
 
 Po-tha-dee, ignorant that she was about to die and feeling faint and 
 forgetful, replied (in stanzas) to this effect ; " I make reverence to thee, 
 " O Tha-gya, Lord of Nats. What evil action I have committed before 
 " thy feet I do not know, my mind, alas ! is agitated like a tree shaken by 
 " a very violent wind, and I no longer am happy and at ease amid the 
 " enjoyments of this abode of Nats, which should be so pleasurable to 
 " the heart." 
 
 Then the Tha-gya knowing that his queen was forgetful (that is un- 
 aware of her state), to make her realize that she was about to pass 
 away replied : " O Po-tha-dee, during all the time that we have been happy 
 " together thou hast not been guilty of a single fault. It is not that I do 
 " not love thee, thou faultless one, but because I have a great affection 
 " for thee, and truly love thee dearly, and because thy good deeds are 
 " ended, that I think of thy welfare in that future state to which thou 
 " art now about to pass ; and so out of the love I have for thee, I offer 
 " thee ten boons. Thou art now almost come under the law of death 
 '' (transmigration) ; even now must thou be parted from me. Thou cans't 
 " not avoid it. This being so, take thou the ten boons I offer thee." 
 
 Po-tha-dee, then understanding her condition, and knowing that it was 
 impossible to escape her fate, looked around to see where it would be 
 good for her to commence a new existence, and perceiving the palace of 
 King Thee-wa, thus made her ten requests. " O Lord of Nats, if indeed 
 " thou wilt grant me ten boons, grant I pray thee, that I may be chief 
 " queen in the palace of King Thee-wa ; that I may have brown eyes 
 " like those of a fawn ; that I may have brown eyebrows ; grant further 
 " that I may be named Po-tha-dee ; that I may have a son, worthy 
 " for his merits to receive the homage of kings and ready to give to 
 " suppliants without any pride, reluctance or cunning, all that they desire, 
 " even though they come asking his jewelled head, his eyes, his heart, his 
 " white umbrella (kingly state), his children or his wife ; and further that 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 7 
 
 " notwithstanding I may be about to become a mother, the beauty of my 
 " form may be preserved, and keeping its natural shape, resemble a finely 
 " wrought bow fashioned by the hand of a skilful workman ; grant that 
 " although I be the mother of several children, the burden of maternity 
 " may not be apparent in my bosom, but that it may remain even as 
 " when in the flower of my youth ; grant that as I become old my hair 
 " may not whiten but be as in my prime ; that the beauty of my body be 
 " preserved, so that it shall remain unblemished and always pure 
 " and clear ; lastly I pray that by my influence I may be able to save those 
 " who, having fallen under the king's displeasure, may be drawing near 
 " to death." 
 
 These were Po-tha-dee's ten requests, and the text says, apparently 
 in an interpolated note, that the last was superfluous, since she would, as 
 chief queen, possess the power she wished for. 
 
 The Tha-gya assured her that all her desires would be accomplished 
 in the kingdom of Thee-wa ; and we are told that, although about to part 
 from his loved consort, the prince of the celestial hosts forgot his grief, 
 in the thought that her future happiness was now fully assured. 
 
 We now return to the lower world to follow the future fortunes of 
 Po-tha-dee. Having passed from the Nat country, she was conceived 
 in the womb of the chief queen of King Mad-da, fit source, says the text, 
 of a damsel whose beauty would suffice to deprive men of their reason. 
 And as, at her birth, her body was, as it were, perfumed with sandlewood, 
 she was named Po-tha-dee, the very name she bore in her previous 
 existence as queen of the Nats. 
 
 We have now reached the point already briefly referred to in the 
 introduction, and our story proper is about to commence. 
 
 At the age of sixteen years, Princess Po-tha-dee was most lovely, 
 surpassing all other damsels in beauty. Her brightness we are told 
 resembled that of Sam-poo-rit gold. 
 
 Just at that time Prince Thain-see, the son of King Thee-wa, became 
 of an age to be invested with , palace and umbrella, (that is to have an 
 establishment of his own.) Princess Po-tha-dee was selected as a fit 
 consort for him, and they were married with splendid ceremonies of which 
 unfortunately no details are given. 
 
 Prince Thain-see was thus raised to kingly estate. Po-tha-dee was 
 
8 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 his chief queen, and the southern palace was appointed for her residence, 
 her maids of honour and female attendants numbering sixteen thousand. 
 
 And now again the Deus ex machina appears on the scene. The 
 Tha-gya looks down to see what has become of his late consort, 
 and finds that she is now Prince Thain-see's queen. 
 
 He perceives that so far her wishes have been accomplished, but 
 that her desire for a son is still unfulfilled. Scanning the universe for a 
 son worthy of such a mother, he sees in the Nat country the future Buddh 
 whose existence there as a Nat is about to terminate. 
 
 So he goes to this highly favoured being (whom we shall hereafter 
 term Pa-ya-loung, i. e. the embryo Pa-ya, or Buddh) and prompts him to 
 become incarnate of Po-tha-dee, when he should pass to the world of 
 men. To provide for Pa-ya-loung companions and retinue, he incites 
 sixty thousand Nats, also about to transmigrate, to become incarnate in 
 the houses of the nobles of Se'-dot-ta-ya. He then returned to his abode. 
 In due course Pa-ya-loung and the sixty thousand Nats passed from the 
 Nat country to this lower world, and the plans of the Tha-gya were 
 duly carried out. 
 
 From that time forth Po-tha-dee took great delight in the making of 
 religious offerings, and begged Thain-see to have six za-yats J constructed 
 at the four gates of the city, and at the palace gates, so that at these 
 places six hundred thousand charitable offerings might daily be made. 
 Thain-see, wondering what might be the cause of this request, called upon 
 the astrologers (brahmins) to explain it. They answered : " Oh King, 
 " Queen Po-tha-dee must have conceived a being who will delight in 
 " the practice of charity, whose desire to make religious offerings will 
 " prove insatiable." On hearing this King Thain-see was exceeding glad, 
 and did as Po-tha-dee requested. From the day of Pa-ya-loung's 
 incarnation, the revenues and riches of King Thain-see increased 
 immeasurably, and many gifts were sent to him by the umbrella bearing 
 sovereigns around the island of Zam-poo-dee pa. 2 
 
 Po-tha-dee lived surrounded by her many attendants, and when 
 about to become a mother, expressed a wish to go out and see the city. 
 So Thain-see caused the whole town to be decked out, and himself 
 
 1. Xayat, a rest house, generally raised off the ground, roofed over but 
 
 frequently open at the sides, often very substantially built, and richly 
 ornamented with wood carving, the posts being painted and gilded. 
 
 2. The southernmost of the four continents which include India. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 9 
 
 accompanied her in regal state. Before their progress was complete, 
 Po-tha-dee became aware that her time was near, so a building was 
 erected even in the way. There we are told her son was born, open-eyed 
 and free from all impurity. Immediately after he was born, he stretched 
 out his hand and said : " Mother, I would make an offering, have you 
 any money ?" She replied : " Darling child, do as you wish," and she 
 placed near his hand a parcel of one thousand pieces. 
 
 At the time of naming the child he was called We-than-da-ya on 
 account of his having been born in the street of the merchants. 
 
 On the day of his birth, the female Oo pau-tha-'ta elephant (a super- 
 natural animal able to fly) brought a young elephant, white like silver, 
 and perfect in every point, and after placing it in the elephant shed, 
 returned to her haunts in the Hee-ma-won-ta. l This animal was provided 
 to be the source or cause of Prince \Ve-than-da-y a's future greatness and 
 prosperity and was therefore named Pis-sa-ya. 
 
 For the care and nursing of the prince, two hundred and forty nurses, 
 free of all physical blemish, were selected and appointed to attend upon 
 him, four for each na-yee, (there being 60 na-yee in the day and night.) 
 One was to bathe and wash him, one to dress and adorn him, one to fan 
 him, and one to carry and feed him. For the sixty thousand children 
 born to be the prince's companions, an adequate provision of clothing 
 and attendants was also made. 
 
 At the age of four or five, the prince gave to his nurses an ornament 
 worth one hundred thousand pieces, which had been given him by his 
 father. The nurses, not daring to refuse the prince's gift, but at the 
 same time fearing the king, received the gift, and then endeavoured to 
 return it ; but the prince would not take it again. So they informed the 
 king of this circumstance, when he told them not to imagine that it was 
 merely a childish gift, and so invalid ; but that his son's giving was even as 
 his own. So the king gave the prince another costly necklace which was 
 immediately given to the nurses, and this was repeated nine times. 
 
 At the age of eight, the prince lying on a splendid couch in the 
 golden palace, thus thought within himself; " My heart cannot be satis- 
 " fied with this giving away of external (impersonal) objects. If I could 
 
 I. Cold; snowy. The Himalaya, a region of mystery or romance, the fairy 
 land of the Buddhists. 
 
10 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " give internal (personal) things I should be happy. Were any one to 
 " come and ask my heart's flesh, I would cleave open my breast and give 
 " it ; or if for my eyes, them too would I give ; or if for the flesh of my 
 " body, I would take a knife and cut it off; or if any one asked me to 
 " become his slave I would grant his request." 
 
 Then, by the power of this virtuous resolution of the future Buddh, 
 this might) world, 240,000 yoo-za-na thick, trembled with a noise like that 
 of a furious elephant. 
 
 The great Myim-mo Mountain 1 , 84,000 yoo-za-na in height, bowed 
 towards Se-dot-ta-ya, like a young cane when roasted with fire. The 
 great expanse of heaven echoed with the sound of the earthquake, and a 
 heavy rain fell. Although it was not the rainy season, vivid lightnings 
 played from the breaks in the thick clouds. The mighty ocean rose in 
 tumult, and the Tha-gya, more than joyful, clapped his arms, 2 while the 
 multitude of Byam-mas also applauded, and throughout the universe the 
 sound of the noise was heard. This was the first occasion in the Prince's 
 life on which the earth was shaken. 
 
 At the age of sixteen, Pa-ya-loung was master of the eighteen branches 
 of science, and his father, King Thain-see, desiring to give him a palace 
 and umbrella, (/. e. to see him established in life,) took counsel with Queen 
 Po-tha-dee, the result being that a fit consort was found for him in the 
 Princess Ma-dee, the fair daughter of the Prince of Mad-da, the queen's 
 brother. The match was accordingly arranged, and Ma-dee, having been 
 conducted with great rejoicings to Se'-dot-ta-ya, was married to Prince 
 We-than-da-ya, who was then consecrated king of the land. Ma-dee was 
 chief queen and had a retinue of sixteen thousand attendants. Prince 
 \Vc-than-da-ya from the time of his elevation to kingly dignity, devoted, 
 every day, six hundred thousand pieces to magnificent offerings. 
 
 In due time Ma-dee-de-wee 3 presented her consort with a son, to 
 whom the name Za-lee was given and about the time that he could walk, 
 a daughter also was born who was named Ga-hna-zain. 
 
 i. Mount Mcru. 
 
 -. I. ike a clown in a pwe, /'. e. by holding one arm close to the side and 
 with the hand of the other slapping the shoulder just where the arm joins 
 the body, (a gesture of exultation, defiance or gladness). 
 
 V Devi, a ( )neen. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. II 
 
 The writer here mentions that six times in each month Prince 
 Wd-than-da-ya mounted on the white elephant Pis-sa-ya was accustomed 
 to visit the six temples where charitable offerings were made. 
 
 The story next relates, that at that time a neighbouring kingdom 
 named Ka-lain-ka, owing to long drought, was afflicted with a famine so 
 severe that the people preyed upon each other, so that the whole country 
 was given up to rapine and violence. The people in their distress went 
 complaining to their king, who quieted them with the assurance that 
 before long rain would fall and plenty again prevail. Having thus sent 
 them away, the king, in order to bring rain, kept a fast for seven 
 days. Finding this of no avail, he called his nobles and wise men 
 together to consult with them. They told him that although all other 
 means should fail, yet there was one that would infallibly prove success- 
 ful ; iu fact, that whereever an Oo-pau-tha-'ta white elephant went, rain 
 unfailingly fell. At least such was the tradition and it would be well to 
 try the experiment. The king replied that the kind of elephant referred 
 to, was found only in the Hee-ma-won-ta, and consequently in Ka-lain-ka 
 was even scarcer than rain. Where could one be got ? The noble 
 replied : " True O King, yet in Se-dot-ta-ya, by the glory of We-than-da-ya 
 " a white elephant has appeared." And they further told the king how 
 that it was famous throughout all Zam-poo- dee-pa that We-than-da-ya 
 took such delight in charitable offerings, that he w^uld give, not only the 
 white elephant, his white umbrella, his palace, or his wealth, but even his 
 eyes or his heart, to anyone who came asking for them ; and that such 
 being the case, it was advisable to send some Pa-rau-hait 1 brahmins, clever 
 in begging, to demand the white elephant of Prince We-than-da-ya. 
 
 So the King assembled the brahmins and selected eight, clever and 
 bold in affairs, and having provided them with sufficient provisions for 
 their journey, directed them to go to Se-dot-ta-ya and obtain the white 
 elephant from We-than-da-ya. 
 
 On arriving at their journey's end, the eight brahmins ate their morn- 
 ing meal at the temples of offering and then went to the eastern gate of 
 the palace and waited there, intending to ask for the elephant when the 
 prince should appear. 
 
 i. Pali, Purohito; a king's domestic chaplain. 
 
12 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 It being the day of full moon, the prince had resolved to go out, and 
 early in the morning had performed his ablutions, perfumed and 
 dressed himself. Having eaten his morning meal, he mounted Pissaya, 
 and, accompanied by a numerous retinue of officers and attendants, went 
 out of the palace by the eastern gate. The expectant brahmins seeing that 
 owing to the great crowd of nobles, officers and people their design would 
 be frustrated, hastened away to the southern gate, and took up their posi- 
 tion on a mound, so that the prince might perceive them, and there they 
 remained, anxiously awaiting his arrival. 
 
 The prince, having visited the offering places at the eastern gate, 
 turned to the right to go to those at the southern gate. On his arrival 
 there, the eight brahmins, with hands out-stretched, cried out three times, 
 " Victory to thee O Prince." 1 We-than-da-ya, seeing by the attitudes of 
 the brahmins that they desired alms, drew near and addressed them 
 thus : " O ye brahmins, from whose nostrils and arm-pits a long and 
 " twisted dark black hair proceeds ; whose teeth are thickly incrusted ; 
 " whose noses are thickened (bulbous) and marked with white and red ; 
 " whose bodies are besmeared with dust, whose fingers have long nails ; 
 " O Brahmins, what do jy^ desire, that with out-stretched hands ye thus 
 " give me your applause ?" 
 
 They replied : " O great Prince, who dost watch over the welfare of the 
 " whole people of Thee-wa, our land Ka-lain-ka is famished for want 
 " of rain, so that thieves and robbers are innumerable ; therefore, on 
 " account of this scourge of famine, we desire that jewel of courage 
 " and strength, of wondrous form and shining tusks, even your Highness' 
 " sacred white elephant. Bestow it on us, O great Prince." 
 
 When he heard these words, Pa-ya-loung thought to himself: " I am 
 " willing to give away any inward (personal) offering, even my head or 
 " my eyes and these brahmins desire that outward (impersonal) object 
 " which, till now, I never thought of as a possible offering \ I will grant 
 " their prayer." So he said to the brahmins, " I will give you this 
 " elephant, which no one on this earth is worthy to ride upon but myself, 
 " and which I am possessed of only by reason of my excellence. I bes- 
 " tow it on you without any hesitation or reluctance." So saying Pa-ya- 
 loung dismounted, and going round the animal, saw, with gladness, that 
 
 i. A cry with which to this day high personages are greeted in India and 
 Burma. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 13 
 
 every part of his body was properly bejewelled. Then taking in his hand 
 a golden vase of perfumed water, he bade the brahmins draw near, and 
 having placed the trunk of the elephant in their hands, he poured water 
 from the vase, and so bestowed the animal upon them as an offering. 
 
 The writer of the story then gives a descriptive catalogue of the orna- 
 ments and jewels with which the white elephant was bedecked, which want 
 of space forbids our repeating. It must suffice to say that their value is 
 stated to have been 2,400,000 pieces, while the six rubies set in the white 
 umbrella and the guiding hook, and the two strings of pearls which hung 
 from the creature's ears, are said to have been of priceless worth. The 
 elephant also itself was beyond value. Thus did We-than-da-ya offer to 
 the brahmins seven precious things, that is to say, the priceless elephant, 
 and the six priceless jewels. But in addition, he gave a large number of 
 attendants to take care of the animal. The offering being completed, 
 the earth even as before, made a mighty noise and quaked, at which 
 the whole country was perturbed, and the people raised a great 
 shout. 
 
 The eight brahmins having obtained the much coveted elephant joy- 
 fully mounted him and surrounded by the populace departed by the royal 
 road (king's street) through the middle of the city. The people on the 
 way crowded around crying : " O deceitful brahmins, who, regardless of 
 others, ask for yourselves alone, even until you obtain, why do ye, 
 unworthy, ride our sacred elephant ? Who gave you permission you to 
 ride? You shall not do so," and they hindered them all they could. 
 The brahmins answered : " Prince We-than-da-ya, great among kings, 
 " has offered it to us with white umbrella and attendants, and it is our 
 " property. Of what rank or authority are ye ? Without the king's com- 
 "' mand do not attempt to hinder us." And pushing and buffeting their 
 way they went from the south to the north gate and so away to Ka-lain-ka. 
 
 The multitude, being unable, (owing to the watchful care of the Nats, 1 
 that Pa-ya-loung's merit should not be lessened nor his good deed become 
 of no effect,) to prevent the brahmins from taking away the sacred animal, 
 turned their wrath against Prince We-than-da-ya, and assembling at the 
 palace of his father, King Thain-see, raised a great cry : " O King, wherefore 
 has your son We-than-da-ya given away to the mendicant brahmins, the 
 white elephant of peerless beauty, strength and courage." In terms such 
 
 Nats, supernatural beings; superior to men, inferior to brahmas. 
 
14 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 as these they inveighed against We-than-da-ya and threatened, if the king 
 refused them redress, to hold him guilty with the prince. King Thain-see 
 thinking that the people desired We-than-da-ya's life, remonstrated with 
 them, contending that, although the whole country were to suffer, it 
 would not be right to kill the prince on the mere demand of the people ; 
 that even had We-than-da-ya transgressed the laws binding on kings, it 
 would be a matter for remonstrance and admonition only, and that nothing 
 but persistent wrong doing would justify the prince's deposition from his 
 princely state, and his banishment. He pleaded that the prince was of an 
 excellent chracter, and not given to evil actions ; that their demand was 
 unjust, for banishment could only be decreed against those who were 
 proved guilty of heinous crime ; that for offering the white elephant, the 
 prince could not be banished, since the making of offerings was a duty 
 incumbent an kings. He contended that We-than-da-ya was not at all to 
 blame, and that were he (the king) on the mere demand of the people, to 
 inflict on him the punishment of death, banishment or degradation, the 
 rulers of all other countries would disapprove of such a sentence. Further, 
 that such a decision would form a precedent for the future, so that people, 
 wanting in wisdom, would argue that because Prince We-than-da-ya was 
 formerly banished from his father's kingdom for having made an offering, 
 the making of offerings was not obligatory on kings ; that he himself 
 if he yielded to their demand, would gain great demerit, and that they 
 ought not desire to commit so great a crime as to procure the death or 
 banishment of the blameless prince. 
 
 The multitude in return admitted that it would not be right for the 
 king to order the binding, beating, imprisonment or execution of the 
 prince, he being, even as the king said, free from sin, and they disclaimed 
 any desire that such should be done. They nevertheless contended that, 
 although in giving away the white elephant Prince Wd-than-da-ya had trans- 
 gressed no law, he had given away the creature which brought the greatest 
 repute to the king, as well as prosperity and security to the whole country, 
 and that having thus given away, heedless of the people's welfare, so 
 precious an object, they would have no more of him, for if he continued 
 to rule, the whole country would become disturbed and uneasy. They 
 therefore demanded his deposition and banishment to the Winga hills. > 
 
 King Thain-see, feeling himself deserted by all save Po-tha-dee the 
 
 i. The labyrinth of hills at the foot of the Himalaya. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 15 
 
 queen, and unable to withstand the demands made by the people in the 
 first flush of their &nger, resolved to temporize, in the hope that, by the 
 morning, their rage would have moderated, so that they would be amenable 
 to reason. So he addressed them thus : " O my nobles and people, if 
 " indeed you have resolved upon the banishment of the prince, I will 
 ' no further oppose your demand, but let him at least for this one night 
 " remain in peace and unmolested ; in the morning be it even according 
 " to your will." Having so far attained their end, the people were some- 
 what appeased, and dispersed to their homes. 
 
 King Thain-see then called one of his nobles, and directed him to go to 
 the prince's palace, and tell him that the whole populace, princes, nobles, 
 and brahmins, all with one accord were greatly incensed against him, and 
 at break of day would assemble and drive him from the country. 
 
 By this time Prince We-than-da-ya, having offered the white elephant, 
 had returned to his palace, surrounded by his retinue of sixty thousand 
 (synchronously born) nobles, and seated under the sacred white umbrella, 
 was enjoying the satisfaction of feeling that he had performed a meritori- 
 ous action, when the noble sent by his father, presented himself before 
 him. The messenger of evil tidings, seeing the prince's happiness, felt 
 unable to make known the message of which he was the bearer, his feel- 
 ings overcame him, and tears _rolled from his eyes, as, hardly daring to 
 fulfil his errand, he begged permission to speak, praying the prince to 
 have pity on him, and spare his life, and not blame him for the evil de- 
 signs of others, which he had come to announce. 
 
 We need not enter into the details of the interview, as given at length 
 in the Burmese text. It will suffice to say, that the prince relieved the 
 fears of his father's messenger, who then made him acquainted with 
 the intentions of the populace, on hearing of which, We-than-da-ya 
 exclaimed that, from the time he was raised to princely dignity, he had 
 not in any way transgressed the laws incumbent on rulers, and demanded 
 to be told of what crime the people held him guilty. The noble then 
 informed him that the people were furious because he had given away the 
 white elephant, and not because he had committed any sin. On 
 hearing this, Pa-ya-loung exclaimed : " I, seeking to attain omniscience. 
 " am ready to give to any one demanding them, such personal objects as 
 " my head, my heart, etc., why therefore should I hesitate to give such 
 " impersonal offerings as gold, silver, jewels, elephants, horses or men 
 
1 6 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " or lands, fields, gardens, etc. ? To him who asks I would give my head, 
 " my arm, my eye. In the making of offerings, my mind does not 
 " hesitate one hair's point, but in such works has exceeding great delight. 
 " If the people of Thee-wa in truth desire to banish me from the 
 " country, for having made an offering, let them banish me ; if they 
 " wish to kill me, let them kill me; if they wish to cut me in pieces, 
 4< they may do so, but from the making of offerings I will not refrain." 
 On hearing these words, the noble, prompted by the nats, spoke as 
 follows as though ordered by the king, although he had not been 
 told to do so, and which indeed were not the words of the people. 
 " Oh prince, the people demand your banishment to the hill called 
 A-reen-sa-ra, near the Koun-tee-ma-ra river, which is the place to which 
 exiled sovereigns are wont to retire." Prince We-than-da-ya replied that 
 the A-reen-sa-ra hill was the place to which were banished rulers who 
 had broken the law, and that he was innocent ; nevertheless if the people 
 insisted that he should retire there, he would do so. Before he went, 
 however, he wished to make the great offering of the seven hundreds. 
 He therefore directed the noble to beg from the people a delay of one 
 day, to enable him to make the offering on the morrow, engaging to 
 submit himself on the following day to their will. The noble left him 
 promising to obtain the desired respite, and went back to King Thain-see. 
 Pa-ya-loung then summoned one of his captains, and told him that he 
 desired to make, on the next morning, the great offering, and that he 
 must make ready seven hundred elephants, seven hundred horses, seven 
 hundred carriages, seven hundred fair damsels, seven hundred milch 
 cows, seven hundred male slaves, and seven hundred female slaves, 
 together with all sorts of meats and drinks, nothing was to be omitted, 
 not even intoxicating drinks for instance, so great was the Prince's fear 
 lest on the occasion of this, his last offering, anything should be 
 demanded and found wanting. The officer proceeded to carry out his 
 lord's command. The Prince turned his steps to the palace of the 
 Princess Ma-dee, with the intention of breaking to her the news of his 
 banishment and of giving her good advice and instruction before he 
 should be parted from her, Seating himself by her side he addressed her 
 thus : " O Ma-dee, you have much gold, silver, grain and other properties 
 " which I have given you, and the dower which you received from your 
 " father, my uncle, King Mad-da is very great. In order that you may not 
 " lose these riches prepare a treasure chamber and conceal them." 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 17 
 
 Princess Ma-dee, during countless existences from the time of the 
 Buddh Dee-pin-ka-ra, having been in constant association with many 
 Pa-ya-loung and saints, was, owing to their teaching, quite incapable of 
 any feeling of avarice or greed. She remembered how from the time 
 she was united to him, the Prince had shewn himself utterly disinclined 
 to hoard his own properties, and that at no time had he directed her to 
 take care of hers, and she was therefore quite unable to comprehend the 
 reason of his present solicitude. Desiring to be enlightened, she said : 
 " O Prince, in what place shall 1 conceal my treasures so that they may be 
 " secure ?" Pa-ya-loung replied : " Princess, you may place your riches in 
 " a store-house, or you may bury them in the earth, and the five ene- 
 " mies * may not indeed molest them, but such immunity will endure 
 " only for your life, and they are not yet secure. Rather build on the 
 " firm ground of religious duty, the strong house of charity, and with 
 " inclination free and untrammeled by hesitation or any feeling of 
 " avarice, there carefully lay up youi treasure. This store-house alone, 
 " during successive existences, will follow the builder even as his shadow, 
 " and prove indeed an inexhaustible treasure-store." 2 
 
 The Princess assented to Pa-ya-loung's proposition, and, though it is 
 not so stated in the story, we may persume that she took part in the great 
 offering made on the following day. 
 
 Pa-ya-loung then continued: "Beloved consort, in future more than 
 " in the past, love and cherish our two darling children Za-lee and 
 " Ga-hna-zain; more than ever love and respect your parents-in-law, my 
 " mother Po-tha-dee, and my father Thaia-see. If in the future another 
 " prince comes demanding your hand in marriage, take him as your 
 " spouse, and be to him the faithful consort you have ever been to me. 
 " Or if being ignorant of the race and disposition of such princely 
 " suitor, you cannot accept him, choose some other consort worthy of your 
 " hand, for you and I must part. Do not therefore be distressed or cast 
 " down, or feel that you no longer have one to protect you." 
 
 Princess Ma-dee was naturally greatly surprised at hearing such words as 
 these from the Prince, and asked him why he thus spoke to her ; whereon 
 
 1. Fire, water, tempest, thieves, rulers. 
 
 2. Anugamiko, following, accompanying ; Anugamiko nidhi, a treasure that 
 
 accompanies a man to the next world. 
 
1 8 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 he related how when he went out on the previous morning, he had found 
 at the southern gate eight brahmins, who had come to receive offerings, 
 to whom he had given the white elephant with all its ornaments and 
 attendants ; and how the whole populace (his father, mother, and the 
 princess herself only excepted) were incensed against him for having done 
 so, and with one accord clamoured for his banishment. That being desir- 
 ous of making yet one more offering, he had begged and obtained one 
 day's respite, and on the morrow would make a great offering, but that 
 at dawn of the following day he must certainly depart. He described 
 to her the place to which he was to retire, as one far from all sounds of 
 men, in the dense dark jungles of which numbers of tigers, leopards, 
 elephants, lions, bears, wild bulls and other evil creatures had their 
 haunts, in fact a most fearful place. 
 
 Thither, he said, he must go all alone, without hope of escaping a 
 speedy death, and that he had only spoken to her as he had done out of 
 regard for her future welfare. Princess Ma-dee's answer was what might 
 have been expected from one of her high race and breeding. " Oh Prince, 
 " beloved even as my life, why these unseemly words ? You speak not 
 " as one who loves his wife. He who loved his wife would only go away 
 " alone when, after having explained the matter to her, she refused to 
 " follow. You should not speak as though you knew what I would do. 
 " If indeed you be driven away, I will follow your footsteps wherever you 
 " go. If the choice be offered me, of instant death with you, or of con- 
 " tinued existence separated from you, and although in the latter case all 
 " prosperity should be mine, I would choose the former alternative. Let 
 " me live or die with you, for what will life be worth to me if parted 
 " from you ? I would rather throw myself into the fierce flames of a 
 " cutch-wood fire. O Prince, to say nothing of mankind, wild creatures 
 <: even will not desert each other, but share each other's happiness or 
 " misery ; why should I who know what is good or evil, and am thus more 
 " wise than they, not follow you ? I together with my two children, will 
 " indeed accompany you, and watch over your happiness." 
 
 And then Ma-dee, inspired by her desire to comfort the prince, though 
 she had never been there, proceeded to describe the pleasure and happi- 
 ness of the Hee-ma-won-ta, in language such as this : " O Prince, when we 
 " with our two children have come to the grove to which you are banished, 
 " and you remembering your former happiness are sorrowful, your grief 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 19 
 
 " will disappear when you see our Za-lee and Ga-hna-zain playing 
 " together, and hear their "pleasant prattle. When we shall have 
 " built our cottage in the Hee-ma-woon-ta, and you think with regret on 
 " parents and country, your longing will cease when you see our children 
 " playing together. Regrets for former happiness will be lost in the 
 " pleasure of watching the herds of splendid wild elephants dis- 
 " porting themselves in the thick forests of the Hee-ma-won-ta. How 
 " shall you think with regret on country and palace, when wandering to- 
 " gether in the shade, we admire the beauty of the forest, in which trees, 
 " on both sides of our path, join overhead their many tinted foliage. 
 " And when we come at cool of evening to our halting place, and you see 
 " the deer, stags, wild cattle, and other animals come down to disport 
 " themselves at the river Peen-sa-ma-lee-nee, and when you see the 
 " Kain-na-ree Kain-na-ra l in happy pairs enjoying themselves in dance 
 " and aerial flight, and hear their songs, your regrets for your palace will 
 " be assuaged. If, in our dwelling in the forest, at evening you remember 
 " the nightly concerts, dances and songs, of this our palace, you will 
 " forget them while listening to the sweet songs of the Kim-bot, 
 " Zee-wa-zo, Gyo-kya^ and Oo-doung. 3 You will forget the sounds of 
 " the people coming and going about this our city, the sounds of ele- 
 " phants, horses and cattle, of the Baho, s of drums, bells and gongs, 
 " when you hear, in the Hee-ma-won-ta, the sounds of elephants, horses, 
 " cattle, asses, leopards, tigers and lions. When we go through the 
 " gorges and valleys carrying our children, and you think of the pleasant 
 " garden we here enjoy, we shall be happy in seeing in early spring the 
 " Pa-douk, In-gyin/ and other flowering trees, bursting into full blos- 
 " som. And when, sometimes, you look back to the place from which, 
 " surrounded by princes and nobles, you were wont to behold various 
 " festivities, your regrets will pass away on seeing, at the beginning of 
 " summer, the earth covered with winged insects of dazzling brightness, 
 " green like emeralds. And when we together wander about the forest, 
 
 1. Fabulous creatures, with bodies of birds and human heads, of most sweet 
 
 voice, able to speak the language of men, but not doing so lest they should, 
 by failing to speak what is true, cause injury to any one (Wade). 
 
 2. Screech owl, swallow, crane, peacock. 
 
 3. Drum on which the hour is struck. 
 
 4. Gum kino tree (Pterocarpus), Shorea robusta. 
 
20 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA -YA. 
 
 " any longing you may feel for the sweet smelling garlands and fragrant 
 " perfumes we now enjoy, will vanish in the enjoyment of the Kyet-myouk, 
 " Yin-kat, Touk-yat, Myet-na-pan, Let-tot l and the thousand other 
 " forest flowers." In this way did Ma-dee try to comfort her husband in 
 his trial. 
 
 Just at that time the mother of Pa-ya-loung, Queen Po-tha-dee, having 
 heard of the conspiracy against her son, came to the palace, and hearing 
 on her entry the subject of their conversation, was unable to restrain her 
 sorrow, and broke out into pitiful lamentations. " Oh why do they con- 
 " spire to banish my innocent son, We-than-da-ya ? Oh, why do they, to 
 " cause my speedy death, thus banish my blameless son ? My son being 
 " torn away from me, all my pleasure in life will be gone, and I may as 
 " well seek a speedy death by poison, or by casting myself from a preci- 
 " pice. I would even prefer to die like a criminal by the cord." But 
 we need not follow Queen Po-tha-dee in her praises of her son, and her 
 lamentations over his fate. She closes the long catalogue of his virtues 
 by bidding her son and his wife not to be anxious, for that she will use 
 her influence with king Thain-see to prevent the people from carrying out 
 their design. Having therefore somewhat composed herself, she returns 
 to her palace and seeks the king. She exhorts him not to give way to the 
 demands of the people, telling him that if he does so he will forfeit the 
 regard of neighbouring kings, who will no longer respect him, but ravage 
 the country without fear. She further asks the king whether he will feel 
 no sorrow, when, the Prince having departed with his sixty thousand 
 noble companions, he is left alone like a Hin-tha 2 crippled in the wing 
 and unable to fly away with his mates from a marsh of which the water 
 has dried up. She contends that at present they (she, the king and the 
 Prince) are happy, and that such great happiness should not be imper- 
 illed ; that therefore he should not give way to the demands of the 
 populace and sanction the banishment of the Prince. 
 
 King Thain-see replies that although the Prince, who had always 
 fulfilled the laws incumbent on kings, even as he had taught him, was 
 dear to him as his life, he felt unable to oppose the demands of the 
 people, or to prevent them from carrying out their design. 
 
 1. Cocks-comb, Garland Gardenia, Symplocos spicata, Tenasserim lance 
 
 wood, Piney varnish tree, 
 
 2. A goose, swan. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA YA. 2 1 
 
 Queen Po-tha-dee then breaks out into a lengthened and violent lamen- 
 tation, of which we can only give an outline. " Hitherto when the Prince 
 " my son went abroad, many nobles dressed in priceless silk attire 
 " walked before him on both sides of the way, carrying in their hands 
 " banners and flags of victory ; now, alas ! my We-than-da-ya must go forth 
 " alone. Formerly, when he left his palace, he rode either on the sacred 
 " elephant, on a litter, or in a carriage drawn by horses or by goats. 
 " From the time that he could walk he never went on foot. How shall 
 " he now set his tender feet to earth to walk ? How shall my son who 
 " never felt the heat of the sun, but was brought up in luxury and comfort, 
 " now wear the coarse dress and carry the yoke and baskets of a com- 
 " mon man ? How shall he wear coarse rough clothes, who has been accus- 
 " tomed as a Prince to wear garments of Ka-thee-ka, of Kau-tom-ba-ra 
 " and of Khau-ma cloths ? l How shall my daughter Ma-dee be able to 
 " weave for him a common garment, she who has never so much as seen 
 " one ? How shall she be able to walk on foot who has been wont to 
 " travel only on a litter, or in a carriage ? How shall Ma-dee who, 
 " whether outside or inside her palace, was never unattended, now travel 
 " alone ? How shall she who used to wear slippers made of the softest 
 " materials, now u alk barefoot ? How shall Ma-dee, who has had the 
 " company of a thousand maidens, now bear being deprived of all society ? 
 " Though comfortable on her couch in her palace, Ma-dee being 
 " of a timid disposition, was frequently frightened. In the Hee-ma-won-ta 
 i( forest, when she hears the voice of the owl and of the jackal, she 
 " will be greatly terrified, will be even wild with fear. Alas ! when after 
 " the departure of the Prince, I shall see his deserted palace, I shall feel 
 " bitter grief, like that felt by the eagle when she sees her empty nest 
 " from which a robber has stolen her little ones. And like as the eagle 
 " flies hither and thither, in deep sorrow seeking for her lost young, so 
 " shall I when I go to the Prince's palace and find it empty, follow the 
 " road that We-than-da-ya and Ma-dee have taken, and seek them, north 
 " and south, east and west, with streaming eyes and broken heart. Oh ! 
 " if indeed the people do banish my innocent son, I shall quickly die." 
 
 On hearing the lamentations of the Queen all the handmaidens of the 
 palace set up a great cry, at the sound of which the sixteen thousand 
 
 I, Benares cloth ; Kotumbara, a kind of cloth ; Linen cloth. 
 
22 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 attendants of Princess Ma-dee added their voices, while the other inmates 
 of the two palaces, unable to restrain their grief, joined in the chorus of 
 lamentation. 
 
 So passed the night. At dawn of day (the first of the waning moon), 
 the noble who had been directed to prepare the great offering, announced 
 that all was ready. So Prince We-than-da-ya, having bathed and dressed 
 himself, went to the offering places, surrounded by his sixty thousand 
 noble attendants. Arrived there, he directed them to ascertain the desires 
 of the mendicants, and to satisfy them, giving to him who wanted clothes, 
 clothing ; to the hungry, food ; to those who desired it, drink. And he bid 
 them be careful that no mendicant either received nothing or not enough, 
 and that no one was in any way threatened. " Let them," he said, 
 " ask, and let them receive, to gladden their hearts, content their desires, 
 " and then send them away." So all day long the great offering of the 
 seven hundreds was made. 
 
 The Burman translator is careful to explain that although Prince 
 We-than-da-ya was aware that no merit could be obtained by the offering 
 of intoxicating drinks, he directed that they should be provided, lest any 
 one should grumble, and say, " at the offering of We-than-da-ya nothing 
 intoxicating is to be drunk," and he would thus hear that some were 
 unsatisfied. 
 
 The story proceeds to tell us that at the thought of the Princes' banish- 
 ment all the mendicant brahmins of the country made great lament, roll- 
 ing in the dust, like men drunk with wine or weak from want of food, 
 and crying out that if like a fair flower or fruit tree, torn up by the roots 
 and cast aside, Prince Wd-than-da-ya were driven away, they would be 
 left without any protector and refugeless. 
 
 Further, that all the Prince's blood relations, his nobles and his friends 
 assembled together, and broke into loud lament, because the populace 
 was resolved to banish the Prince for having made an offering, and 
 because he was going away after having completed the offering of the 
 seven hundreds. They cried out against the injustice of the prince 
 being banished for offering that which was really his own, and not any- 
 thing begged or taken by force from the people, and expressed their 
 astonishment that the prince after being condemned to exile for having 
 made one offering, (the elephant,) should immediately hasten to make 
 another. Their lamentations were futile, the offering was made, and 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 23 
 
 though the story says but little regarding the ultimate destination of the 
 objects given, we are not left in ignorance as to the fate of the seven 
 hundred fair damsels Prince W-than-da-ya gave away. It appears 
 that the nats again played a beneficent part, and made the sovereigns 
 of Zam-poo-dait aware of what was going on, so that they came 
 and each obtained a maiden together with the eight handmaidens given 
 with her as attendants. 
 
 When making the great offering above described, the Prince bowed 
 before it, and with uplifted hands made this pious wish : " May this good 
 " deed of sacrifice I now perform be a means whereby I shall attain to 
 " Universal Knowledge" (Buddha-hood). Forthwith a fearful prodigy 
 takes place. For the third time the great earth quakes with a mighty 
 noise, turning round like a potter's wheel, and the great Myim-mo 
 Mount bends again towards Se dot-ta-ya. 
 
 Prince We-than-da-ya is busy all day long at the offering places ; at 
 sundown he remembers that at dawn next day he must leave the country, 
 and mounting his chariot he drives to the king's palace to take a respect- 
 ful farewell of his father and mother. He is accompanied by Ma-dee, 
 who wishes to make known to them her intention of following the prince 
 into exile, and to take leave of them. 
 
 We need not relate at length the particulars of the interview, which are 
 given in the story with that redundency of expression, which seems a 
 necessary characteristic of Oriental, and, perhaps, especially of Burmese 
 literature. 
 
 The prince takes leave of his parents. His mother gives him her good 
 wishes, that all his pious desires may be fulfilled by his becoming a 
 Rahan (celibate monk), and bids him an affectionate farewell. Her 
 daughter-in-law, she entreats to remain behind with her children. She 
 pleads that Ma-dee is not fitted for a life in the forest, and moreover that 
 a wife is not needed by a celibate monk striving for saint ship. We'-than- 
 da-ya replies that he no longer has authority over any one, and that 
 Ma-dee is free to go with him, or to remain behind, as she pleases. 
 The king adds his remonstrances against Ma-dee's accompanying her 
 husband, pointing out the discomforts she will have to endure. 
 
 Ma-dee bravely replies that she admits that what her uncle (and 
 father-in-law) says is true, but that she has no desire for comfort or 
 happiness at the cost of separation from her husband, She entreats the 
 
24 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 king not to be anxious about her, for with her husband she will be per- 
 fectly happy and content, although she has to endure being covered with 
 dust, instead of sandal-wood powder, and has to wear common coarse 
 clothes ; even though she has to live on such jungle fruits, leaves and 
 berries as she may be able to find, and has to sleep at night under the 
 shade of a tree. 
 
 The king next tries to terrify her from her purpose by depicting the 
 dangers she may have to face. He tells her that the forest is not like the 
 palace (garden), but full of scorpions, musquitoes, stinging flies and other 
 kinds of venomous insects, whose attacks will be unendurable. And also 
 that in the swamps of the forest great serpents are very numerous, who 
 although not venomous, are able to squeeze to death in their coils, not 
 only deer and other animals, but also men. He tells her also of black 
 curly haired bears, from whom there is no escape, not even by taking 
 refuge in a tree, and of terrible wild buffaloes, with sharp pointed horns, 
 almost meeting at the tips. He asks her what she will do when she 
 encounters any of these dangers, and if at any time the children are 
 missing, whether she will not be driven distracted, even as a cow who 
 has lost her young one. He reminds her, that even while within the 
 safety of her palace, the howl of a jackal almost suffices to frighten her to 
 death, and asks how she will bear the terrors of the forest, and how she 
 can persist in her desire to go thither. 
 
 Madee's reply redounds to the honor of her sex : " Let the dangers of 
 " the forest be even as you paint them, I will face and bear them. Were 
 " I not ready to suffer adversity with my husband as well as to enjoy 
 " happiness with him, I should be no true wife. I will go before my 
 " Prince, and opening a path for him through the thick grasses, watch 
 " over him that no grass or creeper roughly touch him. O king, it is 
 " hard for a woman to get a good husband ; a woman who desires a good 
 " husband, is dutiful to her parents and teacher, is careful to perform her 
 " religious ablutions, is circumspect in her behaviour, is wont to dress and 
 " adorn herself with care. O king, of all the unhappiness women have 
 " in this world to endure, the greatest is that of widowhood. Why should 
 " I, by refusing to follow my husband's steps, condemn myself to that 
 " unhappy state ?" And then she launches out into a loud dissertation on 
 widows and their sorrows, which we pass over as having little to do with 
 our story, and concludes by contending that a woman who clings to her 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 25 
 
 husband alike through evil and good fortune, gains the good will and 
 applause of nats and byammas 1 . Finally, she says that she will certainly 
 accompany the Prince, and for evil or for good share his exile ; that no 
 matter what dangers arise, she will face them, and die before any harm 
 shall befall her beloved consort ; that she would not in truth be parted 
 from her Prince, even to rule the country ; and that the woman, who, 
 after having enjoyed prosperity with her husband, deserted him in his 
 adversity, would indeed have a vile disposition, even that of a devil. 
 
 The king then feels that he must no longer oppose her going, but begs 
 her, at least, to leave to his care, his two grand-children. She pleads, in 
 reply, that the children are as dear to her as life itself, and that when, 
 remembering her country and home she is inclined to sorrow, the sight 
 of her dear ones will be her consolation and comfort. 
 
 The king is not satisfied, and points out that she out of her regard for 
 her husband, may be able to bear her trials, but that the children are still 
 very young. 
 
 How will they, he asks, accustomed to the delicate food of a palace, be 
 able to subsist on the fruits and berries of the forest ? How will they, 
 used to eat from off vessels of fine gold, be able, in the forest, to eat off 
 a leaf? How will they, who never wore any but the softest clothing, be 
 able to endure a coarse rough dress ? How shall they go on foot, who 
 always, both inside and outside the palace, were carried on a golden 
 litter, or in a chariot ? How shall they who have slept in magnificent 
 chambers, with closed doors lest a breeze should blow upon them, sleep 
 exposed on the ground at the foot of a tree ? How shall they, who hither, 
 to have reposed on a couch softer than cotton wool, sleep on a rough 
 grass bed ? How shall they, who have used sandal-wood powder, bear 
 to have their bodies besmeared with dust ? 
 
 In this part of the story a strong trace of Hinduism is evident, the ablutions 
 probably referring to bathing in the Ganges, washing before meals etc : 
 while the misery of Hindu widows is only too well known ; and although 
 in Burma widows may and do remarry, and indeed do not appear to be 
 looked down upon in any great degree, still ' widow' and ' widow's son' 
 are occasionally heard as terms of contempt. 
 
 Gaudama himself speaking of alms, has declared that those given to 
 widows are lowest but one in the scale, only those given to animals ac- 
 quiring less merit. 
 
26 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " How shall my grand children," he cries, " after having all their lives 
 " been shielded by fans made of the tails of yaks and peacocks, 
 " ignorant even that such insects exist, bear the attacks of the horse- 
 " flies, musquitos, etc., with which the forest abounds ?" The king pleads 
 in vain ; Ma-dee bids him not to be anxious, for that the children will eat 
 as she eats, will dress as she dresses, and that she will take care that they 
 are not miserable. 
 
 Thus passes the night in sad converse, and dawn sees the Prince's 
 chariot, to which the four Thain-daw l horses have been harnessed, 
 ready at the gate of King Thain-see's palace. Princess Ma-dee takes 
 leave of the king and queen, also of her attendants and friends, and 
 then with her two children, takes her place in the chariot. The Prince 
 lingers but a moment to make obeisance to his parents, then steps into 
 the carriage and drives away towards the Winga hills, surrounded by his 
 sixty thousand noble companions. 
 
 The towns-people all come out of their houses to witness his departure, 
 and congregate in the streets. The prince directs his course to the 
 crowd and utters his farewell blessing. " O ye people, I am now depart- 
 " ing to the Winga hills ; may you all enjoy health, prosperity, freedom 
 " from danger and all happiness ; make offerings, practice virtue." He 
 then resumes his journey. Just after he has left, his mother Po-tha-dee 
 thought to herself; " my son takes a delight in giving ; if he desires to 
 make an offering let him have the means." So she sent two carts full of 
 the seven precious things, 2 (one to f go on his right hand and one on his 
 left) together with various ornaments, jewellery for wear, etc. 
 
 The Prince's passion for charity leads him to give away the jewels he 
 wore, in eighteen gifts to various mendicants who came begging. His 
 remaining property he carried on with him. 
 
 When he had gone some distance he was seized with a desire to see 
 his home once again, so by the power of his merit, the great earth split 
 where the chariot stood, and, turning round like a potter's wheel, brought 
 the Prince's city before his eyes, and he saw again his parents' palace. 
 And then for a fourth time the earth quaked with a dreadful noise, and 
 great Myim-mo bent like an Oo-souk flower. 3 
 
 1. Swift, flying ; literally horses of Scinde. 
 
 2. Gold, silver, pearls, gems (as sapphire, ruby,) cat's-eye, diamond, coral. 
 
 3. A kind of flower, otherwise unknown. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 27 
 
 At the'sight of his native land, the Prince exclaimed : " Behold, Ma-dee, 
 " how pleasurable an abode is Se-dot-ta-ya, the residence of our father " 
 and together they gazed on the lovely sight. Then with streaming eyes 
 the Prince bade the sixty thousand associates of his life remain behind 
 and follow him no further, and having thus sent them back he resumed 
 his journey, directing Ma-dee to tell him if she saw any mendicants 
 coming to ask for alms. 
 
 What a picture ! The prince after having given away all his possessions, 
 driving to his place of exile, absorbed, it may be supposed, in the 
 thought of good deeds performed and of the merit thus stored up for 
 the future, and the fair Princess, just torn from home and friends, yet 
 happy in the company of her husband and children, seated in the chariot, 
 looking out for recipients of his further charity. 
 
 She has not long to wait ; four begging brahmins appear, who, too late 
 to be present at the offering of the " seven hundreds," but determined to 
 get something, have learnt from the people the route taken by the prince, 
 and hearing also that he still has some property with him, such as the 
 chariot and horses, have lost no time in coming after him. 
 
 So Ma-dee tells the Prince that four beggars are following them ; where- 
 upon he draws up and waits. The four brahmins then approach, and 
 beg for the four horses that draw the chariot. Without hesitation the 
 Prince dismounts, detaches the animals and gives them to the brahmins, 
 who take one each and depart. It might be supposed that the loss of his 
 horses would hinder the Prince's further progress. But a prodigy happens. 
 The pole of the chariot without falling to the ground remains in the air, 
 just as if the horses were still attached to it, and by the power of the 
 merit of the Prince, four nats take upon themselves the form of wild bulls 
 and submitting their necks to the yoke, draw the chariot along. 
 
 The Prince calls Ma-dee's attention, (knowing all the time that the 
 animals were nats) : " Look, Ma- dee, at this wonder, how these four crea- 
 tures, the denisons of the forest, put their necks to the yoke, and draw the 
 chariot like well broken horses." 
 
 He then drives on, but not for long ; another mendicant appears and 
 asks for the chariot. So the Prince stops, and making his children and 
 Ma-dee get down, without any hesitation gives it up. The four bulls as if 
 by magic disappear, and the four princely travellers being left with only 
 their feet for their conveyance, the prince bids Ma-dee take up and carry 
 
28 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA, 
 
 little Ga-hna-zain, the younger and lighter of the children, while he takes 
 Za-lee the older and heavier ; and thus carrying their two children, the 
 Prince and Ma-dee in loving converse go on their way. 
 
 One cannot but be struck with the Prince's steadfastness in the course 
 he had resolved to pursue ; and Ma-dee's unquestioning reliance on, and 
 affection for her husband, are worthy of all honour. She sees him resign 
 all worldly possessions, and reduce himself and her, together with their 
 children, to absolute destitution, without a murmur, without a hint even, 
 that a less complete sacrifice would suffice. She accepts all he does as 
 right, and finds his company sufficient for her happiness. 
 
 They pursue their journey, asking all whom they meet, the way to the 
 Winga hills. Those whom they question burst into tears, as they 
 recognise the Prince, and answer that the mountains are yet very far off, 
 and then go on their way. 
 
 The children, as they go, cry at the sight of the fruit trees on the sides 
 of the road ; so the trees, shocked at their tears, bend their branches 
 that their fruit may be within reach of the Prince, who accordingly gathers 
 some for the children. 
 
 Ma-dee, on seeing the trees bend thus without there being any breeze, 
 thinks that never on earth was such a thing heard of, much less seen, 
 and perceiving that the miracle must be in recognition of the Prince's 
 merit, cries out in admiration. 
 
 The Prince and his family thus journey on, five yoo-zana to Thoo- 
 won-na-ta-la hill, five more to Kaun-tee-ma-ra river, five more to A-reen- 
 sa-ra-gee-ree hill, thence five more to Na-lee-dan-ta, a Brahmin village, 
 thence ten, to the city of king Mad-da the Prince's uncle in the coun- 
 try Z-ta. This journey of thirty yoo-za-na was accomplished in one day, 
 the nats having shortened the road, lest the children should suffer dis- 
 comfort and fatigue. 
 
 Arrived at his uncle's city, the Prince did not enter therein, but took 
 up his quarters (as a common traveller) in a za-yat at the gate. Ma-dee, 
 like the dutiful wife she was, having wiped the dust from his feet and 
 shampood them, took measures to let his kindred know of his arrival. 
 She went and stood at the outside door of the za-yat opposite Pa-ya-loung 
 so that the people, going and coming through the city'gate might perceive 
 her. Her device succeeded. The passers by, women and girls of every 
 age, on seeing the fair Ma-dee standing at the za-yat, were seized with 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 29 
 
 curiosity to know who she was, etc., etc. ; and crowding around they 
 questioned her. This was just what Ma-dee wanted : she told them who 
 she was, and they recognising her as their own Princess, the daughter 
 of their king, broke into loud lament that she, who had always 
 been accustomed to go about in a golden litter, should now have to put 
 her delicate feet to the ground. They then went and made all known 
 to the Princess' royal relations in the city. On learning the story, they, 
 some sixty thousand in number, at once hastened to the za-yat, beating 
 their breasts and crying violently, and burst into a torrent of questions. 
 " O Prince how are you ? are you well ? and your royal parents ? and the 
 " people of Thee-wa ? Is the country prospering ? Where are your 
 " officers, your nobles and your guards ? Where your chariots, elephants 
 " and horses ? How is that you, with your princess and children, come 
 " all alone, without chariot or horses, from Thee-wa thirty yoo-za-na 
 " away ? Is it because another king has ravaged the country, that 
 " you are obliged to fly ?" 
 
 The Prince replied, " Dear relations, I, my parents, relations and friends 
 " are all well. The people of Thee-wa also are free from sickness and 
 " distress. The country is prosperous and happy, and it is not because 
 " another sovereign has ravaged the country and so made it impossible 
 " for me to remain in it, that I, my consort and children, have come here, 
 " without nobles, soldiers, or followers. The reason is this : I, on the 
 " past full moon, did give away to eight brahmins from Ka-lain-ka the 
 " sacred white elephant, (of which, by virtue of my merit, I had become 
 " possessed,) with his trappings worth 2,400,000 pieces, and six emeralds 
 " of priceless value, together with yak tail fans, white umbrella, and five 
 " hundred elephant keepers, as well as attendants and doctors. For 
 " this the populace became enraged with me, and the king, my father, 
 " being compelled to grant their demands, I have been banished from 
 " the country, and am therefore now on my way to the Winga hills. Can 
 " you direct me thither ?" 
 
 The Ze-ta princes in reply, tell We-than-da-ya that under these cir- 
 cumstances, he is without any blame, and that his coming is a good one. 
 They offer him their hospitality, and beg him to take up his abode in 
 their land for a time, while they go to Se-dot-ta-ya, and intercede for him 
 with King Thain-see, and they promise when they shall have obtained 
 his recall, to conduct him in great state back to his kingdom. The 
 
30 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA, 
 
 Prince, in reply, thanks them for their preferred hospitality, but explains 
 that he is not banished at his father's wish, but that King Thain-see has 
 been unable to restrain the anger of the people ; in fact, that had not the 
 king given way, the people would have driven him out too. He assures 
 the Ze*-ta princes that they would be unable to gain over the people, 
 that their journey would therefore be in vain, and only result in fatigue 
 and trouble to themselves. He therefore begs them not to go. 
 
 He consents however to stay one night with them, but announces his 
 intention of resuming his journey at break of day. The princes persist 
 in trying to persuade him to give up going to the Winga hills, and to stay 
 with them ; in fact, to become their king, offering him their couutry in 
 all its prosperity and happiness. Fa-ya-loung does not hesitate an 
 instant in his refusal, although he admits that their offer is one worthy 
 of acceptance. But he reminds his friends, that the faculty of the wise, 
 accustomed not to act for their own good alone, but rather to seek the 
 general happiness of all, is to be neither unduly cast down when 
 adversity comes, nor too quickly elated at the advent of prosperity. In 
 the present even, said he, we should look forward and consider whether 
 the ultimate result (of an action contemplated) will be good or evil. One 
 single individual should not be benefitted at the expense of the many. 
 The evil to come should from a distance be foreseen and shunned. 
 Pa-ya-loung added that were he to accept their offer, King Thain-see 
 would be made uneasy, for the ministers would represent to him, that his 
 (We-than-daya's) acceptance of his father-in-law's throne, was a sign of 
 enmity, and an indication of an intention to contest the matter, and that 
 the people, too, would be disturbed and uneasy. Moreover that even 
 though King Thain-see did not form a wrong impression, the populace 
 would certainly refuse to allow the people of Ze-ta to give support to the 
 Prince they had banished, and making it a ground of quarrel would come 
 to fight against Ze-ta with great armies. Whereupon the people of Ze-ta 
 would rise in self defence, and so two nations would be brought into con- 
 flict on account of one man, himself. " In fact," said the Prince, " the 
 " two countries, Ze"-ta and Thee-wa, long united in friendship, like two 
 " pieces of gold soldered together, would on my account come to a 
 " rupture, and burst into the flame of a great war. Such being the case, 
 " I have no desire to become your king, but will go and live among the 
 " Winga hills." 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 31 
 
 The Ze-ta Princes next entreat We-than-daya, since he will not be their 
 king, at least to live with them as long as he pleases so to do, but in vain. 
 The Prince is firm. He will neither enter the city, nor stay over the next 
 morning. So they are obliged to be content with making his za-yat 
 as much like a palace as possible, by means of costly furniture, and the 
 usual paraphernalia of a king. 
 
 So We-than-daya passes the night at the za-yat, in conversation with 
 the Ze-ta princes and his relations. At day-break he performs his 
 ablutions and partakes of a sumptuous repast ; then accompanied by his 
 friends, he sets forth again on his journey. 
 
 His relatives, sixty thousand in number, bear him company a distance 
 of fifteen yoo-za-na from Mad-da, to the edge of the great forest which 
 lies at the foot of the mighty Hee-ma-won-ta. Arrived there, the Prince 
 begs them to direct him which way to go, and then to return. They, 
 wiping away their tears as they speak, describe to him the points he is to 
 take as way marks, for the remaining fifteen yoo-za-na he has to travel 
 before he can arrive at the place of his exile. Pointing with their right 
 hands they direct him thus : " That brown hill you see, is called 
 " Gan-da-ma-da-na, on accounts of its sweet flowers ; keep this hill before 
 " you, and travel north until you reach it. Thence directing your gaze in 
 " the same direction, you will see the brown tints of the We-poo-la hill, so 
 " called for the pleasant shade found under the thick foliage of its trees. 
 " On reaching that point you will see winding in the north at the foot of 
 " the hills, the river Ke-too-ma-dee ; when you arrive at its pleasant banks, 
 " you, your consort, and your children, will refresh yourselves with draughts 
 " of its cool water, and also with a bath, and will then go on to a not far 
 " distant Pee-nyoung (Banian) tree, which, looking north from the river, 
 " you will see at the top of a hill. You will stay to rest in its pleasant 
 " shade, and enjoy its sweet fruit. Then, still looking north, you 
 " will see the rocky mountain Na-lee-ka, where many kinds of Kain-na-ra 
 " sing and disport themselves. Arrived there, you will see to the north- 
 " east, the Mon-sa-lain-ta lake, with its surface covered with the five kinds 
 " of lilies. Thence look again to the north-east, and you will behold 
 " a thick cool wood, whose masses of foliage resemble the piled up layers 
 " of brown cloud, seen during a thunder storm at the beginning of the 
 " rainy season. A wood, at the sight of which the heart is unable to con- 
 " tain itself, so densely covered is it with trees, whose mighty limbs, cov- 
 
32 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " ered with countless leaves and flowers, and bending under their wealth 
 "of fruit, meet overhead, and form a roof; while the ground beneath is 
 " hidden by a fine soft grass, green as the emerald. There maybe heard 
 " the voices of the many kinds of birds who live among the trees. Into 
 " that fearful wood, enter without fear, like K-tha, l the lion king look- 
 " ing for prey, and making your way boldly through the bushes and 
 " grass, follow the narrow and crooked path towards the north-east. 
 " This wood is called Winga-ba 2 because the road through it winds 
 " among the gorges and precipices. If you follow to their source the little 
 " streams and brooks that flow from these ravines, you will come to a 
 " great square tank, surrounded by Ka-det 3 trees, whose waters covered 
 " with lilies of the five kinds, are indeed well suited for the use (drink and 
 " ablutions) of hermits and monks, who have attained to Zan-tha-ma-pat 4 . 
 " The water of this tank, clear, sweet, cool and deep, is the happy abode 
 " of great fish. O Prince, make that spot your abiding place ; a little to 
 " the north-east of the tank, in a fit place build yourself a cell, and there 
 " free from fear, subsisting on the fruit and other products of the forest, 
 " day and night with diligence, practice virtue and live in peace." 
 
 Then, remembering that the first part of We-than-da-ya's journey lies 
 among many dangers, and over a road he has never traversed, the Ze-ta 
 princes direct a man of Ze-ta, clever in hunting and wood craft, to 
 accompany the prince, to protect him from danger, and set him on his 
 way. Having done this, they take their leave of him at the edge of the 
 forest, and return home. 
 
 Our pilgrims then continue their journey, and follow their guide into 
 the forest, the Prince armed with sword, bow, and arrows. The story 
 gives us no details of their journey, which appears to have been without 
 any adventure. We are told that they arrived, the same evening, 
 at the Gan-da-ma-da-na hill, and having slept there, at break of day set 
 out again, and passed by the foot of We-poo-la hill to Ke"-too-ma-dee 
 river, where they partook of a repast provided for them by their guide. 
 
 1. Pali; Kesari, a maned lion. 
 
 2. Wingaba ; a labyrinth. Pali, Vanko, crooked, bent ; the maze of hills at 
 
 the foot of the Himalaya. At many pagodas in Burma a * maze' is to be 
 found generally formed of low brick walls which a man can easily see 
 over, but the difficulty of finding the way in or out is not greatly lessened 
 thereby. 
 
 3. Cratoeva Roxburghii. 
 
 4. An extraordinary attainment. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 33 
 
 Having refreshed themselves with a bath in the river, they parted from the 
 hunter, who, after receiving from the prince the gift of a golden hair pin, 
 returned to guard the entrance to the forest, while Pa-ya-loung and his family 
 crossed the river and pursued their journey north towards the Pee-nyoung 
 tree. They made a short halt there to rest and enjoy the fruit, and then 
 went on to Na-lee-ka hill, and thence again to the Mon-sa-lain-ta lake. 
 There they recruited themselves with fruits, and lily sprouts and buds; 
 then, by a narrow crooked way, only wide enough for one person to pass 
 at a time, they pursued their journey through the dense dark forest. On 
 emerging from it, they followed the course of the streams which flowed 
 from the ravines to their source and found the four sided tank, covered 
 with water lilies, the long looked for end of their weary pilgrimage. 
 
 And now again their celestial guardian comes to their aid. The 
 Tha-gya looks down to earth, and perceives the pious object of his care 
 entering the Hee-ma-won-ta, and thinks it only fit that he should provide 
 a ceil for him to dwell in. This is not a matter of difficulty for so great 
 a power ; he has indeed but to give his commands. He calls the young 
 nat Wee-tha-gyon, and bids him go down to earth and construct a suitable 
 dwelling among the Winga hills for the good prince. 
 
 The nat accepts his lord's commands, descends to the spot desig- 
 nated, and in a suitable and pleasant place forthwith creates two cells, 
 complete with cloisters (walking places,) dormitories, etc., etc. In front 
 of the cloisters, he plants flowers of various kinds, and plantain 
 trees (bananas ;) within the cell he provides all the utensils and articles 
 required by recluses. He also leaves in the cells inscriptions stating that 
 these things are for the use of those intending to become recluses. 
 Finally he drives away from the neighbourhood all Bee-loos (ogres,) 
 spirits of the earth and air, together with all birds and beasts of prey, 
 which are wont to make awful noises, and then, his task accomplished, 
 soars again to the nats' abode. 
 
 Pa-ya4oung is not long in finding out the dwelling thus prepared for 
 him. Following a narrow and crooked path he meets with to the north- 
 east of the tank, he comes suddenly upon the hermitage, and recognises 
 it at once as a dwelling prepared for a recluse. He leaves Ma-dee and 
 the children at the entrance, while he himself opens the door and enters 
 the cell. He there finds the inscription, and on reading it, at once 
 
34 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 understands that the place has been prepared for him by the Tha-gya. 
 He forthwith lays aside his arms, changes the robe he is wearing for an 
 under dress woven from the inner bark of a tree, and dyed in a decoction 
 of bark ; then puts on a brown upper dress which also he found in 
 the cell, arranging it to fall in a roll over .one shoulder and under the 
 other arm, and finally does up his hair in a knot at the top of his head. 
 Having thus assumed the garb and appearance of a hermit, he takes his 
 bamboo staff in hand and goes outside, where inspired with the spirit of 
 a recluse, he bursts forth into joyful verse: 
 
 " A-hau-thoo-kan, A-hau-thoo-kan. Pap-piz-za-me, A-dee-ga-ta. 
 " What joy ! What happiness ! I have become a recluse." 
 
 He next enters the cloister, and walks about for a time ; then full 
 of the peace felt by Pis-se-ga-buddhas l and Areeyas, 2 goes to rejoin his 
 companions. 
 
 Ma-dee at first failed to recognise her husband under so changed an 
 appearance, and when she did so, was unable to control her feelings, but 
 prostrated herself at his feet and burst into tears. She and her husband 
 then enter the hermitage, and going to the cell provided for her, she enters 
 it, and speedily reappears in the dress of a recluse. The two children are 
 next made to follow their parents' example, and thus, as the story says, 
 all the four become recluses, and dwell in cells among the Winga hills. 
 Ma-dee forthwith engages Pa-ya-loung not to go to the forest to seek for 
 fruits for food, but to remain with the children ; so to provide the 
 daily food of the family from that time becomes her peculiar care. 
 Pa-ya-loung then begs that now they have both become celibate 
 recluses, she will not approach him at unsuitable hours, or without due 
 reason, for that the presence of women is incompatible with the practice 
 of celibacy. She gives a simple assent and accepts the injunction, and 
 thus they enter upon their life in the forest. 
 
 Their peaceful influence extends beyond their cells. For a distance 
 of five yoo-za-na around, owing to the power of Pa-ya-loung's virtue, all 
 the wild creatures live in peace and happiness with one another. Daily 
 at dawn, Ma-dee brings water for drinking and bathing, and having given 
 
 1. Semi-buddhs, who occasionally appear in the intervals between real 
 
 buddhs. 
 
 2. A being who will attain Naibban at the close of his current existence. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA, 35 
 
 Pa-ya-loung his tooth stick, and water to wash his face, and swept his cell, 
 she leaves the children with him, and then with spade, basket, and hooked 
 stick to pluck fruit with, goes to the forest for roots, sprouts, tubers, and 
 fruits. Having filled her basket with these, she, in the cool of the even- 
 ing, returns to the hermitage, when she bathes and dresses the children. 
 Then, at the door of their dwelling, the four exiles enjoy the repast which 
 her care has provided. Having eaten and drunk, Ma-dee and the 
 children retire to their sleeping cell, Pa-ya-loung to his. 
 
 These are all the details given of the daily life of the subjects of the 
 story, except that while they thus dwell in the Winga hills leading the 
 peaceful lives of hermit recluses, a period of seven years passes away. 
 
 What a picture ! a loving husband and wife, alone in the forest In 
 daily intercourse, yet living celibate lives, happy in each other's society 
 and in that of their children, and in the practice of virtue. 
 
 The next portion of the legend which forms the subject of our sketch 
 is told at considerable length in the Burmese text, but we shall condense 
 it as much as possible, since it only indirectly relates to the exiles. It 
 sets forth in detail, how the powers that are thought in a measure to rule 
 the lives of all created beings, made provision for the further trial of the 
 unfortunate hero of the story, and of his wife and children. It will suffice 
 to give an outline of this portion of the legend, relating at length a few 
 of the more remarkable passages. 
 
 It is stated that about the end of the seven years above mentioned, a 
 mendicant brahmin, named Zoo-za-ga, was living in a brahmin village 
 known as Don-nee-wee-ta, and situated in the province Ka-lain-ka. l He, 
 as he wandered hither and thither, had by begging amassed a store of 
 one hundred pieces of money. His greed being still unsatisfied, as he was 
 unable to carry his hoard about with him, he delivered it for safe custody 
 to a brahmin living in a certain village. He then started away on another 
 begging expedition, and after some time had elapsed, returned to demand 
 his treasure, only to find that the custodian had spent it all. Being 
 unable to make restitution, the defaulter gave Zoo-za-ga his daughter, 
 A-mait-ta, to wife, and the couple went away home to Don-nee-wee-ta 
 village. Notwithstanding the queer wayin which the girl found a husband she 
 seems to have had a sort of regard for him ; at any rate she did her duty by 
 
 i. Name of a country on the Coromandel coast. 
 
36 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 him as a wife, by looking after his house and attending upon him, for very 
 soon the other and younger brahmins of the village began to draw compari- 
 sons between the dutiful behaviour of A-mait-ta to her old husband, and 
 that of their own wives to them. They lost no time in calling the delin- 
 quents to account, pointing out how dutiful the young and fair A-mait-ta 
 was to her decrepit old spouse, while they shewed their husbands, 
 though as young in years as themselves, no respect whatever. And 
 the men threatened and abused their wives. The result might have 
 been foreseen. The village women conceive an intense hatred for 
 A-mait-ta, and determine to make her life in the village unbearable in 
 fact, they resolve, that at river side, about the village, or wherever they meet 
 her, to overwhelm her with insult and ridicule. Accordingly the next 
 time A-mait-ta goes to the river for water the attack is begun. 
 
 One remarks that her parents have behaved outrageously towards her, 
 in giving her, a young girl scarcely of marriageable age, to an old white- 
 headed grey-beard ; another suggests that it looks as if her relations or the 
 people of her village out of ill will to her or jealously, had persuaded her 
 parents to marry her, a mere child too young to set up housekeeping, to 
 her old brahmin husband, with his skin and flesh dried up like leather. 
 Some tell her that it would be better for her to die than live with such an 
 old man, and ask her what advantage she expects to get for so doing ; 
 others say that it seems as though in spite of her youth and beauty, her 
 parents had been unable to find her a husband of suitable age and so 
 were obliged to marry her to an old black brahmin. 
 
 It is suggested by some of her tormentors, that when she made an 
 offering of Yagoo 1 with the hope of securing a good husband, she must 
 have chosen an inauspicious day, when an old crow carried away and ate 
 her offering, and that on that account she now has for a husband, a white- 
 headed creature old enough to be her grandfather ; or else that she must 
 have neglected to propitate the fire nat with offerings ; or perhaps that at 
 some time or other she has cursed or reviled a hermit recluse of pious life. 
 It is not misery, say others, to die by a snake's venom, or in a tiger's 
 clutches, or by the spear, the arrow or the sword; but the woman, fated to 
 be the wife of a senile old man, of all unhappy beings is the most 
 miserable. 
 
 i. Rice boiled soft, gruel, 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA YA. 37 
 
 How, she is asked, can your old and fast failing husband fall in with your 
 wishes and make you, a young girl, happy ? How can you bear fo be seen 
 talking to him ! Truly the sight of your intercourse is not a comely one. 
 
 The happiness of a young couple of similar age able to fall in with each 
 others tastes and wishes is indeed goodly to look upon, but the spectacle of 
 this broken toothed, hollow cheeked old man, (with his tongue falling out 
 before he opens his mouth to laugh,) united to a young woman of 
 your age is shameful, and altogether unseemly. It is no good for you to 
 live with him, you had better leave him and go home to your parents. 
 Thus they exhaust their powers of sarcasm on the girl, her parents and 
 husband. 
 
 Poor A-mait-ta is unable to face the torrent of invective poured 
 upon her, so takes up her water pot and returns weeping home. Old Zoo- 
 za-ga inquires the reason of her tears. She replies that, no matter what he 
 wishes, or what may happen, she will never again go to the river side for 
 water, because she is outrageously abused by the village women for having 
 married an old man like him. He tells her not to trouble, but to stay 
 quietly at home, and he will himself draw water, and do all that has to be 
 done outside the house. To this she will not consent ; she does not 
 come, she exclaims, of a race whose women allow their husbands to become 
 their slaves. She says if he insists on doing the work, instead of finding 
 a male or female slave to do it, she will not remain in his house, but will 
 leave him. " If you love me," says she, " get me a slave." He asks in 
 reply, how he, utterly poor and not knowing how to work, is to buy a slave, 
 and tells her again not to fret, but to allow him to do the household 
 work. " Look," she replies, " I have heard that We-than-da-ya is living 
 " among the Winga hills ; go to him and beg a slave, the prince will give 
 " you one." The brahmin replies that he is old and weak, and the place 
 she mentions very far off, so far that he cannot go to it, but that she need 
 not trouble, for he will take care of her, etc., etc. But A-mait-ta has 
 set her heart upon having slaves to wait upon her. So she tells the old 
 man that he is like a general, who cries out that he is beaten, before 
 he reaches the battle-field, and again tells him plainly, that if he will 
 not look for slaves for her, she will leave him ; and predicts that if she 
 does so, he will be very miserable. " When you shall see me," she cries, 
 " the wife of another, all bedecked, and enjoying myself at the festivals 
 " held at the changes of the moon, and also at the beginning of 
 " the six seasons of the year, you will be overcome with heavy grief, and 
 
38 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " your back, already bent with the weight of years, will bend yet more, 
 " until your face almost comes in contact with the ground, while your 
 " hair will become as white as the flower of a rush." 
 
 This coarse taunt produces the desired effect. Moved by strong passion 
 for his young wife, the " aged, crooked-backed, wrinkled, grey bearded, 
 " white headed, toothless, hollow cheeked, at-death's-door-standing old 
 " Zoo-za-ga" (as he is graphically described) gives in, and tells the fair 
 A-mait-ta not to be anxious for that he will forthwith do what she asks. 
 Accordingly without loss of time he makes her prepare provisions for his 
 journey. While she is doing this, he repairs the broken places in the 
 floors and sides of his cottage, makes secure the door, brings in from 
 the wood a supply of fuel, cuts it up, and fills the water pots with water. 
 His domestic labours being concluded he disguises himself as an ascetic 
 or recluse, tells his wife not to go from home at unfit times until his 
 return, and not to be afraid. Then putting on his sandals, he takes his 
 tinder box, l pitcher etc., slings his bag of provisions over his shoulder, 
 says farewell to his wife and staff in hand, with streaming eyes sets out 
 on his journey to the prosperous country, Se-dot-ta-ya. 
 
 On his arrival he approaches an assembly of people, and asks where to 
 find Prince We-than-da-ya. At the sight of the horrible old man, the peo- 
 ple begin to abuse him for a decrepit old brahmin, ready always to look 
 out for himself, but heedless of the welfare of others, and tell him that 
 owing to mendicants like himself having continually worried the prince 
 into repeated offerings, he has been unable to remain in the country, and 
 has gone away with his wife and children to the Winga hills ; the result 
 being they said, that they themselves were left without a helper, and their 
 well being was in consequence imperilled. " How do you dare come near 
 us," they cried ; and then, with sticks and stones, they pelted and beat him, 
 pulled him about and buffeted him, and finally drove him away. The old 
 brahmin ran off in a great fright, but guided by the nats, (always careful 
 that Pa-ya-loung's attainment of perfection should not be frustrated), took 
 the right road for the Winga hills. On the way thither passing through 
 the forest, he came near the dwelling place of the hunter, who had been 
 Pa-ya-loung's guide. He was ranging the wood in pursuit of game, with 
 
 i. Literally fire rubber; two sticks, one of which being rubbed against the 
 other, fire is produced by the friction. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 39 
 
 a pack of dogs, who, shewing their teeth and with their hair all bristling 
 ran after the brahmin as soon as they saw him. 
 
 The old man fled for his life, but quickly lost his way in the forest, 
 and seeing no help near was obliged to take refuge in a tree, his body 
 all scratched and torn in his flight through the thick bushes. 
 
 The dogs having treed their game, keep watch below, while the brahmin 
 indulges in the following amusing soliloquy : " On account of what long 
 " since committed evil deed it happens I cannot imagine, but I am first 
 " abused and ridiculed by the people of my village ; next am scolded and 
 " taunted by my wife ; then, to please her I, though an old man 
 " and unfit to perform so long a journey, go to S-dot-ta-ya where 
 " the people not only abuse but maltreat me ; now while travell- 
 " ing in this Hee-ma-won-ta forest, I have to fly from the fangs of 
 " these dogs, lose my way, and don't know north from south. Oh ! 
 " where shall I, thus lost in the forest far away from any village or habit- 
 " tation, look for any assistance." Thus perched up in a tree, did this 
 caste-broken old brahmin, who foolishly gave way to his wife, bewail 
 his sad fate. 
 
 " Oh ! who will tell me where to find We'-than-da-ya, the refuge of the 
 " destitute ? To mendicant brahmins, the prince is, what the earth is to 
 " all created beings. Mendicants hasten to him as rivers flow towards 
 " the sea. To the weary traveller, he is like a calm cool lake, or a 
 " pleasant tree planted by the way side. Oh ! that some one would 
 " come and direct me to that haven of rest." 
 
 The hunter, coming by in search of birds, heard the old man's cries, 
 and thought to himself : " This brahmin, so anxious to reach the 
 " prince's dwelling, cannot have come for any good purpose. He must 
 " intend to ask either for the Princess Ma-dee or for the children, and 
 " if he does find the prince, he will certainly get whatever he demands, 
 " and then the prince will be left all alone in the forest without assistance, 
 " which will indeed be a great calamity. Now the Ze-ta princes placed 
 " me to keep evil away from the Prince." So he made up his mind to 
 kill the brahmin, and with that intention drew near, stringing his bow 
 and getting ready a poisoned arrow. But first he addresses his intended 
 victim : " O Brahmin, owing to some of your vile race having obtained, 
 " by begging, the sacred white elephant, Prince We-than-da-ya is now an 
 " exile among the Winga hills ; and this even it seems is not enough, for 
 " now again even as a heron seeks for fish in the water, you, you white 
 
40 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " headed, toothless, crooked-backed, inconsiderate old brahmin rascal, 
 " are come with evil design, seeking for the prince. On my arrow's sharp 
 " point your life shall expire ; of that be well assured. My arrow's point 
 " just now will drink your blood. Then cleaving open your breast, I 
 " will tear out your heart and liver, and offer them to the guardian nats 
 " of the forest and of fire. In truth I will make a fine offering to them. 
 " Rather than you shall get the prince's wife or children you shall die." 
 and thus threatening him he takes careful aim. 
 
 The wretched old brahmin thinks to himself that he has escaped one 
 danger after another, only to fall into this one, and sees no way of avoid- 
 ing death by the arrow of the hunter except by a ruse. So he cleverly 
 resolves to try to save his life, and at the same time obtain the informa- 
 tion he wants, by concocting a bold story. 
 
 He asks the hunter why he purposes to shoot him without any inquiry, 
 and promises to explain matters. " Listen" he says and commences with a 
 little sermon ; " religious recluses and brahmins, being men of pure 
 " lives, should not be put to death, neither should ambassadors, they 
 " being the custodians of the affairs of their countries and of their 
 " kings. This is an ancient maxim." He then coolly announces 
 himself as king Thainsee's ambassador. He says the anger of 
 the people of Se-dot-ta-ya has passed away, and that they are 
 sorry for what they have done. That the king longs to see his son, 
 while the queen, from passing day and night in tears, has wasted away, 
 and become nearly blind with weeping, and that therefore the king, 
 after consulting with his nobles, ministers and people, has sent him (the 
 brahmin) to recal the prince, and he therefore begs the hunter to tell him 
 where to find him if he knows where he is living. 
 
 The hunter, a simple woodman, not wont (as the text says,) to 
 pause to consider whether a story is reliable or not, but only too ready to 
 accept as true what pleased his ear, was delighted at the words of the 
 brahmin, at once called off his dogs, and having tied them up, made the 
 old man descend from the tree. Then declaring that the friend of We- 
 than-da-ya was also his own, he invites the brahmin to eat, giving him, 
 in addition, honey and dried flesh for his journey. He then 
 points out the road he must follow, enumerating at consider- 
 able length, the kinds of trees he would meet with, and the 
 varieties of birds resting in them. He also describes the dwell- 
 ing of the prince, with the fruit trees growing around it, mangoes, 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 41 
 
 bananas and figs. He speaks of the flowers that, in their number and 
 brightness, rival the stars at night ; also of the tank, the haunt of count- 
 less wild fowl, covered with lilies and full of fish, turtles etc., etc. The 
 brahmin was glad at having gained his object, and offered the hunter 
 some of the food he had brought with him, (boiled rice dried and then 
 pounded with honey,) which however was refused, the hunter telling 
 him to keep it for his own use. " Follow the road," he said, and at an easy 
 " distance, you will find the cell of the hermit Iz-zoo-ta of dust-besmeared 
 " body ; ask him about We-than-da-ya's abode, and he will shew you where 
 " it is." 
 
 The old brahmin goes on his way rejoicing, and soon arrives at the 
 hermit's cell. Him he accosts with civil inquiries, such as : " Are you free 
 " from illness ? Are fruits and roots sufficiently abundant for your 
 " subsistance, and easily obtained ? Are you free from annoyance from 
 " the venomous insects, reptiles, and wild animals, with which this wood 
 " abounds?" These questions the hermit answers in the affirmative, 
 and says that though he has lived many years in the cell, he remem. 
 bers no illness as having troubled him. He invites the brahmin to 
 come in to wash his feet, and eat of the fruits, and drink of the 
 water which he will find. The brahmin does not at once accept 
 the invitation, but says he makes homage to the hermit with the fruit 
 thus offered, and returns it. He then proceeds to explain the object of 
 his visit. He has come, he says, reverently to look upon Prince We- 
 than-da-ya, exiled from his country by his subjects, and begs the hermit 
 to direct him to the prince's dwelling. 
 
 The hermit guesses the brahmin's true object, and tells him he believes 
 that it is not with any good intention that he wishes to behold the prince, but 
 to ask for the Princess Ma-dee, (who so carefully administers to the wants 
 of her husband) and her two children, Ga-hna-zain and Za-lee, that he may 
 carry them away to be his slaves. What advantage will be gained, he 
 asks himself, by this brahmin going to We-than-da-ya ? On hearing his 
 words the brahmin thought to himself: "It is no use for me to try to 
 " deceive this hermit with the same story I told the hunter, for if I say 
 " I am a messenger from King Thain-see, he considering my age and 
 " appearance will not believe me. I must devise another tale that shall 
 " receive credence." So he replies : " O hermit, I am not a person who 
 
42 THE STORY Of WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " desires to harm any one ; nor am I now going to beg any thing, I am in 
 " truth the prince's religious teacher. O hermit, it is difficult indeed to 
 " see even once a really righteous person, not to say to associate with one ; 
 " though to behold and associate with the righteous is great happiness, I 
 " have not seen the prince since the day when the people of Thee-wa 
 " drove him away. Now desiring again to behold him I am come ; if you 
 " know where he is, O hermit guide me to him." 
 
 The cunning old brahmin is again believed. The hermit accepts the 
 tale, and saying that the day is far spent, invites the brahmin to pass the 
 night in his cell, promising to put him on his way at dawn next day. 
 So he entertains him during the night, and at day-break points out the 
 road, describing, at great length as did the hunter, the trees and birds he 
 would see and the various beauties surrounding the prince's abode. We 
 hasten over this portion of the narrative and set out again with the 
 brahmin on his journey. Of what befel him on the way we are told 
 nothing, until he arrives near his destination. It is evening, and he 
 considers that Princess Ma-dee will have returned home from her daily 
 search for fruit and roots, and that it would not be advisable for him to 
 try and gainjiis object while shejs near. " Women are," he says, "naturally 
 " of a greedy and deceitful disposition. Although the prince may be 
 " ready to give me what 1 ask, Ma-dee will interfere to prevent him." So 
 he determines to wait till the following morning, when Ma-dee having 
 gone out to look for food, the prince will be all alone. Then he will go 
 and beg the children, and take them away before their mother's return. 
 Thus designing, he goes to the top of a little Hill called Tha-noo, near 
 the four sided tank, and there, on the ground at the foot of a tree, passes 
 the night. 
 
 Ma-dee is not without warning that something is about to happen. 
 That same night just before dawn, she dreams a dream. In her sleep 
 she sees a dark man, of ugly appearance dressed in a dyed dress, wearing 
 red flowers in his ears, and armed, who forces his way with threats into 
 her cell, and taking her by the hair of her head, throws her on the 
 ground. Then, heedless of her cries, he tears out her eyes, next cuts off 
 her hands, and finally tears her heart from out her breast. At this awful 
 dream, Ma-dee awakes in terror, and knowing that there is no one at 
 hand but the prince able to interpret her dream, she hastens to 
 his cell, and knocks at the door. The prince, hearing the knock, asks ; 
 " Who is there ?" " It is I," replies Ma-dee, whereupon the prince rebukes 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 43 
 
 her for coming, saying " O Ma-dee, at the time that you and I became 
 " celibates, we agreed that neither of us should go to the other's abode at 
 " unsuitable hours ; why do you, breaking this promise, at this unseason- 
 " able hour, now come to me ?" Ma-dee replies : " O prince, my coming 
 " to you is not prompted by any improper motive, but indeed because I 
 " have seen a terrible dream, and am come to tell you of it." The prince 
 thereupon asks her to relate it, which she does. On hearing her 
 dream, he at once understood it to indicate that his practice of offering 
 would shortly be made complete ; that at dawn even, some one would 
 come asking for charity. But thinking that if he gave Ma-dee this inter- 
 pretation, she would be much troubled and saddened, he told her that the 
 dreams arising from an agitated brain were many, and that therefore all 
 dreams were not to be looked upon as omens. So telling her not to 
 be anxious, he quiets her fears, and sends her away to her couch again. 
 
 At daybreak Ma-dee rose, and having performed her accustomed 
 duties, kissed her two children on their foreheads, telling them to be 
 careful of themselves, as she had in the night dreamed an evil dream. 
 She takes them to their father, begging him to watch over them during 
 her absence, and then, with her basket, spade etc., sets out as usual to the 
 forest for food. 
 
 The old brahmin, judging that Ma-dee would by this time be out of the 
 way, now comes down from the hill where he passed the night, and walks 
 towards the prince's dwelling by a narrow path wide enough for one man 
 only to pass. Pa-ya-loung, having quitted his cell, was then seated calmly, 
 like a golden image, on a stone bench at the door, anxiously longing for the 
 advent of the expected mendicant, even as a drunkard longs for drink, * 
 while the children played about near him. At last he catches sight of the 
 brahmin at a distance, and feels rejoiced to think that he is now about to 
 resume the practice of charity, a practice that had been in abeyance for 
 seven long years. He calls his son Za-lee, and tells him to get up and 
 see whether a brahmin is not approaching, in appearance like unto the 
 mendicants that used to come from all quarters, when he (the prince) 
 lived in Se dot-ta ya. Pa-ya-loung says that from the moment he saw the 
 brahmin, pleasure took possession of his soul, even as it does that of the 
 hot and perspiring traveller, over whose head pots of cool refreshing 
 
 :. To European ideas Burmese similies frequently appear somewhat strange, 
 
44 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 water are poured. " Yes," said Za-lee. " I see a person coming. In appear- 
 ance he resembles a brahmin ; he must be coming to us," and thereupon 
 the little prince hastens to meet the visitor, and offers to carry his bur- 
 den for him. The brahmin regards the boy attentively and says to himself, 
 " this must be the son of Prince We-than-da-ya ; if I am severe with him 
 '* from the first he will be more easy to manage afterwards," so he thrust 
 him aside with his hand, saying, " Get out of the way, get out of the 
 way." Za-lee stands aside, thinking the brahmin indeed very rough 
 and discourteous ; wondering what it might portend, he carefully regards 
 him, and perceives in him the ten characteristics of a vile man. 
 
 The brahmin draws near Prince We-than-da-ya with words of salutation : 
 " O prince art thou free from illness ? Are fruits and roots sufficiently 
 " abundant and easy to be procured ? Are horse-flies, musquitoes, snakes, 
 " scorpions and lice few in number ? Art thou happy and in safety 
 " from wild animals ?" The prince replies that he is well ; that food is 
 abundant ; that of noxious insects and reptiles there are but few, and 
 that wild animals in no way molest him. He further tells the brahmin, 
 that he and his family have passed seven years in that place far away 
 from the haunts of men, and that during that time no man has ever 
 visited him. " Now," says he, " I see thee come, O brahmin, leaning 
 " on a staff, (brown like a ripe bale fruit), with tinder box and water 
 " vessel. May thy coming be auspicious and free from evil, O brahmin." 
 He then invites the old man to enter the cell, to wash his feet, and 
 refresh himself with the various fruits, (sweet as honey), and with cool 
 water from the mountain springs, that he will find there. 
 
 At the same time, Pa-ya-loung was thinking to himself that the old 
 brahmin could not have come to so wild and distant a wood, without 
 some object, and determines to find out his desire, and to satisfy it as 
 soon as possible. So he asks him to make known the reason of 
 his visit. 
 
 The brahmin answers : " O Prince ; I am come to beg an offering of 
 " thee, for thou being filled with a proper disposition, art the inexhausti- 
 " ble refuge of mendicants, even as the water of the five great rivers, 
 " which cannot fail though many drink there from. So, O prince, to me 
 " thus coming, offer thou thy two children." 
 
 On hearing these words, the prince, glad, as when at his birth his 
 mother placed in his extended hand the bundle of one thousand pieces, 
 uttered the verses beginning : Da-da-mee-ta-wa ma-shan pot-ta-ke, the 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 45 
 
 whole hill resounding, with short claps. The meaning of the verses is as 
 " follows : I offer my son and daughter to be thy slaves, O brahmin. Con- 
 " sider thyself their master to do unto them as thou shalt please. Never- 
 " theless, their mother Ma-dee is now absent, and will only return in the 
 " evening with the fruits she has gathered, sleep thou here this night, and 
 " to-morrow morning with the two children go on thy way. Wait until Za- 
 " lee's mother shall come, and we will send thee away with sufficient provi- 
 " sions for thy journey." 
 
 The brahmin replies : " O Prince, thy words are not pleasing to me ; 
 " and wherefore ? women are of deceitful artifice, and ready to incite to 
 " vile and wicked actions. Thou, O prince, art one who believes in the 
 " fruits of destiny. Women are capable of being a hindrance to any 
 " good deed, and apt to stand in the way of the coveteousness of mendi- 
 " cants. Therefore Princess Ma-dee had better know nothing about this 
 " giving away of thy children ; I would rather take them away before she 
 " returns, so call them hither." 
 
 The Prince answers : " O brahmin, be thy desire granted, that my dear 
 " consort who so carefully takes thought for her husband, shall not see 
 " what is done, yet take Ga-hna-zain and Za-lee, my two children, to their 
 " grandfather, King Thain-see. When he shall see them, and hear soft 
 " loving words spoken by their sweet voices, he will be exceeding glad, 
 " and give great gifts to thee." 
 
 The brahmin will not agree to this. He says : " O Prince, let me 
 " again speak, and listen to my words. If I do as you propose and take 
 " these two children to King Thain-see, I fear that harm will befall me. 
 '' When I shall appear before him, his anger will break forth and he will 
 " inflict a heavy punishment upon me. It may be that he will sell me 
 " away for a slave, or even put me to death. Or at the best, I may fail 
 " to secure a gift, in addition lose my slaves, and then have to bear the 
 " abuse and scorn of A-mait-ta the brahminess." 
 
 The Prince tries once again to persuade the brahmin. ' O brahmin, do 
 " not be afraid. My father, King Thain-see, is not wont to oppress any 
 " one. He is a close observer of the rules which kings should follow. 
 " He will certainly rejoice greatly at the sight of his grand-children, 
 "and it cannot be otherwise than that he will give thee a great gift." 
 
 " O prince," replies the brahmin, " I refuse thy proposal, I desire not 
 " wealth j but the two children I will take away and make them servants 
 " to wait upon and work for A-mait-ta." 
 
46 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 During the colloquy the two children are listening, and say to each 
 other: " The words of this brahmin are very harsh." So being greatly 
 terrified, they run behind the cell, and hide themselves in a clump of 
 bushes. There even their terror continues, and they seem to see the face 
 of the brahmin, following them in pursuit. They are unable to control 
 their fears, and run hither and thither, north and south, unable to feel safe 
 in any place. At last they fly to the four sided tank, and dressed as they 
 are, there take refuge, their bodies in the water, and their heads concealed 
 among the lily leaves. 
 
 The brahmin remarking their absence, at once turns in anger to abuse 
 the prince. " Just now, prince, you gave me the children, but on my saying 
 " I would not go to Se-dot-ta-ya, but would take them to A-mait-ta's 
 " house, you winked at them with your eye, and made them run away ; 
 " verily in all this world there is not one who cheats like you." 
 
 The prince then perceived that the children had run away for fear, so 
 saying, " O brahmin, do not be troubled, I will call them and give them 
 " to thee," he rose from his seat, and went to the back of the cell, 
 suspecting that the children had hidden themselves in the bushes. 
 Following their foot-prints he comes to the side of the tank, and 
 finding they led to the water's edge, he at once concluded 
 that the fugitives were hidden somewhere in the tank. Standing 
 by the side of it, he calls out to Za-lee, " Beloved son, come hither 
 " to me ; let thy father's duty of charity be made complete ; cast 
 " away, or patiently restrain thy fear either of the rough words or of the 
 " ill treatment of the brahmin. Take heed to the words of thy father. 
 " Do thou be the goodly barque which, (like a ship in the great ocean 
 " that the waves are powerless to injure,) shall convey me, a voyager 
 " across the sea of existences, even unto naib-ban. So shall thy father in 
 " this ship cross this great sea to the shores of that naib-ban which is free 
 " from the burden of repeated re-birth. If I accomplish my purpose, I 
 " shall rescue both nats and all mankind." l 
 
 Za-lee, on hearing his father's words, is filled with filial respect and 
 love, and heroically resolves that the brahmin shall treat him as he pleases. 
 So, without a word of reply, he thrusts aside the lily leaves, and raises his 
 
 i. It is curious how in buddhist literature the idea occasionally crops out that 
 Buddha's attainment of universal knowledge and naib-ban will secure the 
 salvation of mankind in general. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 47 
 
 head, then comes up out of the tank and falls in tears at his father's right 
 foot. Pa-ya-loung then asks him where his sister is. The boy avoids a 
 direct answer, and makes this evasive reply. " O father, in time of dan- 
 " ger all creatures are wont to take thought, each for its self alone," 
 from which Pa-ya-loung perceives that there is a compact between the 
 children, apparently, not to betray each other ; so he calls out to Ga-hna- 
 zain, " Dear Ga-hna, come hither to thy father, do thou also aid him 
 " to fulfil his religious duty of giving. Fear not the oppression of the 
 " brahmin. Patiently bear thy trouble, and listen to thy father's words," 
 even as he had spoken to his son. Little Ga-hna-zain follows her 
 brother's example, and without a word, comes out from the tank, and 
 throws herself weeping on her father's left foot. The tears of the two 
 weeping children drop on the lotus like feet of Pa-ya-loung while his own 
 sacred tears fall on the golden slab like backs 1 of the two victims. 
 Presently he bids them rise up, and quiets their fears with the assur- 
 ance that they will not long be the slaves of the vile brahmin. He then 
 addresses Za-lee : " Dear son, thou knowest, dost thou not, that thy father 
 " has given thee away ? Do thou, dear son, so act that his desire may be 
 " accomplished." He then proceeded to appraise the children standing 
 before him, even as he might have valued a bullock, a buffalo, an ele- 
 phant, or a horse. " Dear son, should any one wish to redeem thee, let 
 " him do so on giving the brahmin a thousand pieces of silver. Should 
 " any man for her beauty, desire to redeem and espouse thy sister, giving 
 " to the brahmin a ransom, let such a man's condition be what it may, if 
 " he can give the brahmin one hundred male slaves, one hundred female 
 " slaves, one hundred elephants, one hundred horses, one hundred 
 " bullocks and one hundred pieces of silver, let him so ransom her, and 
 " take her in marriage." 
 
 Having thus placed a value on his children, Pa-ya-loung returned with 
 them to his cell, and taking a golden pitcher (or vase) of water, called the 
 brahmin near ; and then poured out the water, saying, " Ee-dan me poo- 
 nyan thap-pa-nyoo-ta-nya-nath-tha pis-sa-yau hau-too," 2 and so offered 
 his children. As the water drops fall on the ground, this great earth. 
 
 1. The slab alluded to is that on which Indian washermen beat clothes when 
 
 washing them, generally a slab of stone or wood some three feet long 
 by twelve or fifteen inches wide. 
 
 2. May this good deed promote my attainment of omniscience. 
 
48 THE StORV OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 240,000 yoo-za-na thick, resounds with a clattering sound and violently 
 shakes, and a fearful creeping of the skin is felt by all mankind. Mighty 
 ocean is agitated with great waves, while Myim-mo mount bends, like a 
 cane roasted by fire, towards the Winga hills. The Tha-gya applauds, 
 slapping his arms, while the Byam-ma king l and all the nats, join in a 
 chorus of praise, so that a great clamour is heard even unto the Ek-ka- 
 nait-ta Byam-ma 2 abode. The heavens echo with the sound of the earth- 
 quake, and a heavy rain falls ; the lightnings flash from thick clouds 
 though it is not the season of rain ; while the Bom-ma-so and Yok-ka- 
 so s nats, the lions, tigers, leopards, and other animals haunting the Hee- 
 ma-won-ta, make the whole forest resound with their cries. This was the 
 fifth occasion on which a mighty earthquake occurred, and thus did 
 Pa-ya-loung give away his children to the brahmin, loving them indeed 
 greatly, but ten, a hundred, a thousand, yea ten thousand times more 
 regarding that ommiscience which he was striving to attain. Having 
 offered them, he sat gazing on them, while the brahmin went into the 
 bushes and got some creeping plants, (biting them with his teeth), with 
 which he bound the right wrist of Za-lee to the left wrist of Ga-hna-zain. 
 That done he takes the end of the string in one hand, and his stick in the 
 other ; and then, under the very eyes of Pa-ya-loung, beating and goad- 
 ing the children, he sets out on his way. 
 
 The children are indeed to be pitied. They are described as bleeding 
 from the many wounds made by the stick of the brahmin ; their bodies 
 trembling under the blows showered upon them as they stagger one against 
 the other. Suddenly -the brahmin, unable properly to control his limbs, 
 being infirm in body and fatigued, loses his footing on a rough place in 
 the road, and falls even as though he had been struck down. On this the 
 children, with their tender hands, untie the knots that bind them and run 
 weeping back to their father. Reaching him, Za-lee, trembling all over 
 like the leaves of a fig tree shaken by the wind, falls at his father's feet, 
 and making obeisance, cries : " O father, while our mother was yet 
 " absent in the forest, you gave us away ; do so only after she comes 
 " home, and then whether the brahmin sell us or kill us, we do not care. 
 " Give us away if you will, but wait until our mother returns. Oh father ! 
 " this old brahmin has an immense foot as broad as it is long and the 
 
 1. Sovereign of Brahmas, beings of a higher order than the nats. 
 
 2. The sixteenth or highest Brahma heaven. 
 
 3. Guardian spirits of the earth and trees. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 49 
 
 " nails of his feet and hands are all broken, crooked and filthy. 
 " His flesh hangs loosely about his body in lumps, horrible to 
 " look upon, while his wrinkled cheeks hang down like pouches. 
 " His molar teeth are all broken, his thick-lipped mouth extends 
 " almost to his cheek bones, and a disgusting saliva trickles from its 
 " corners. The teeth that yet remain to him stick out in front so that his 
 " lips cannot cover them. His thin crooked nose turns up. His belly 
 " bulges out, rounded like an earthen jar. His back is curved like a harrow 
 " handle or the waxing or waning moon. His squinting eyes, one smaller 
 " than the other, are evil looking, and red and multi-colored. His white and 
 " red hair, coiled up into a knot on his head, is of a tawny hue. His thick 
 " skin is all wrinkled. His chest, his neck and face are bespotted with 
 " moles or blotches of various colours. His eyes are dim, and dull and 
 " of divers colours. His waist, his back, his neck are hollowed out. His 
 " legs are bandied and he walks with aching back in sudden cracks as 
 " though his joints were not united. He is of great stature and strength, 
 " and savage disposition, and wears a dark coloured garment dyed with 
 " mangrove juice, tightly girt around him. 
 
 " This old brahmin, thus possessed of the eighteen evil characteristics of 
 " vile people, cannot be a human being, but is I think a Mye-pot or Bee- 
 " loo, 1 He is indeed fearful, and were it asked ' is he a man or a bee-loo,' 
 " no one would reply ' a man/ but all would say he is a bee-loo, an eater of 
 " human flesh. O father, how can you remain indifferent when this ogre 
 " only comes and asks for us, in order to eat our flesh. Is it because 
 " you do not dare to prevent him ? It is the nature of parents, 
 " when they see their children suffer, to feel as if they bore the pain 
 " themselves. Yet, alas ! is your heart as a stone banded with iron, 
 " and you sit unmoved and silent, as though you did not see us stand- 
 " ing before you, our flesh torn with the bonds and blows of the brahmin 
 " and our blood trickling from every wound. He beats us heavily with 
 " his stick, as though we were mere cattle, until our skin and flesh is cut. 
 " Still although I have to suffer such misery, I will endure it for the 
 " benefit of my father. But my little sister Ga-hna, nursed in her 
 " parents' bosoms, is still young and tender and has never before had 
 " to surfer any pain or sorrow. If, (like an unweaned fawn, who has lost 
 
 l. Evil spirit of the ground. Ogre. 
 
50 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " its dam, and hungry, runs crying hither and thither seeking her^) Ga- 
 " hna-zain be unable to see her mother, she will weep, and die of grief. 
 " So do not give away Ga-hna, but keep her here and give me alone." 
 Notwithstanding that Za-lee, in his helplessness thus cried to him, Pa-ya- 
 loung said nothing, but sat silent, controlling his heart. Za-lee, seeing his 
 father still unmoved, again broke forth. " We are not the only ones 
 " who suffer, we but endure the lot of all created beings who struggle in 
 " this sea of existence; and the grief that we, thus carried away without 
 " being permitted to see our mother, shall feel when we no longer see 
 '' our parents, far outweighs the brahmin's ill usage. And little sister 
 " Ga-hna, the cherished of her parents, being thus carried off by the 
 " brahmin, their grief at no more seeing her will be a heavy burden for 
 " them to bear through the long days and nights. Her mother, at mid- 
 " night and dawn, will think lovingly of her, and will be as a rivulet in 
 " which the water has dried up. And we must follow the brahmin and 
 " abandon altogether the forest gardens full of various fruit trees, and 
 " the river winding round our cell, in whose cool water we, with our 
 " parents, were wont to enjoy ourselves ; and the hills and valleys in which 
 " we used continually to find many sweet tasting fruits and beautiful ? 
 " flowers. We must, too, leave these play-things, which our parents made 
 " for our amusement, this toy elephant, this horse, this ox, with which 
 " we have played so happily together." 
 
 While Za-lee is thus lamenting, the brahmin comes to look for him 
 and his sister, crying out : " What have you run away for ?" Overwhelming 
 them with abuse, even in their father's presence he ties them again 
 with cords made of creepers, and takes them away, beating them 
 as he goes along. Za-lee cries out : " O facher, we are compelled to 
 " follow this brahmin. When our mother comes, tell her that we are well. 
 " O father, do not be unhappy ; give to our mother these toy elephants, 
 " horses, and oxen, that she may forget her sorrow." 
 
 Pa-ya-loung, on thus seeing his children dragged away, under his 
 very eyes, by the brahmin, who beat and illtreated them as though he 
 bore them illwill, was roused to deep grief, and trembled vio- 
 lently, even as an elephant when seized by Ke-tha the lion-king, 
 or as the full moon entering the mouth of Rahoo *. Unable 
 
 i . Rahu, name of an Asura who is supposed to cause eclipses by taking the 
 the sun and moon into his mouth. Asura, a Titan or fallen angel. The 
 Burmese hold that Yahu is the greatest of nats, 48,000 yoozana in 
 height, who is thought to eat the moon once in six months. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 51 
 
 to restrain his grief, his eyes full of tears, he rises from his seat and 
 enters his cell, where he breaks out into pitiful lamentation. " Oh ! to 
 " whom shall my son and daughter look for food when they become 
 " hungry ? Who shall give to them their accustomed morning and even- 
 " ing meal ? When, in their hunger, they shall cry, who shall sooth them 
 " and give them to eat? Oh ! how shall my tender-footed children, who 
 " have never yet gone on foot, be able to perform the long journey of 
 " sixty yoo-za-na that they have before them ? Oh ! who shall take them 
 " up, and carry them, when on the way, crying with fatigue, they shall be 
 " unable to go further ? Even before my eyes has this brahmin, shame- 
 " lessly and without pity, cruelly beaten my innocent children. Why ! 
 " anyone of proper feeling, would not thus ill treat even the slave of my 
 " slave, to say nothing of these innocents. As for this brahmin, using 
 (C them as he would not his own children without a spark of pity, he has 
 " cruelly maltreated them, even in my sight, just as fishermen beat the fish 
 " they have caught in a trap. Such treatment is not to be borne ; I will 
 " even now follow him, kill htm with my sword, and rescue my children." 
 But on reflection he considered, that his sorrow for the children was no 
 reason for taking such a course ; for that an instance of anxiety or regret 
 on behalf of an object once offered, was nowhere to be found in the 
 examples of the righteous of past time. So restraining his feelings he 
 thus admonished himself. " We'-than-da-ya, art thou not a wise man, 
 " knowing the rule and practice of former Pa-ya-loung and other holy 
 " men ? All former Pa-ya-loung have only attained to perfect knowledge 
 " after having performed the five great acts of sacrifice, viz, those of 
 " property ; limbs, eyes, &c ; children ; wife ; of life itself. No Pa-ya- 
 " loung can attain omniscience without such sacrifices, and art thou not 
 " now a Pa-ya-loung, striving to reach that supreme attainment ? Such 
 " being the case, how dost thou, having given away thy children, now 
 l( repent ? Didst thou not know, that he to whom thou shouldest give 
 " them would make them his slaves ? So even although the brahmin 
 " should now kill them, let not thyself be troubled thereat or moved." 
 Thus with the hand wisdom, by the strong cord steadfastness > does Pa-ya- 
 loung securely bind to the firm post heedfulness, the wild elephant his 
 angry anxiety. Having thus regained the mastery over his feelings, he 
 comes out of his cell, and seats himself at his door, his mind again 
 at peace. 
 
52 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 Meanwhile the brahmin goes on his way, continuing to maltreat the 
 children. Za-lee before long again begins to lament. " It is said that even 
 " though he have a father, a child bereaved of his mother, cannot escape 
 " from pitiful distress, and we are even now rinding out how true this is. 
 " Come here sister, we shall die before long, what good is it to live. Our 
 " father, suppressing all desire after worldly possessions, has given us to 
 " this Beeloo brahmin, who beats us as he would his ox. O Ga-hna- 
 " zain, we are now going away from our happy haunts and all our old 
 " enjoyments." 
 
 As they thus sorrow, the old brahmin again slips and falls down, on 
 which the children lose no time in untying their bonds and running back 
 to their father, while their oppressor, as soon as he can rise from the 
 ground, follows them raging like a fire, with the ropes in one hand, and 
 his staff in the other. On reaching them, he, in their father's presence, 
 once more abuses and beats them violently for having again run off, and 
 then having bound them as before, he drags them away. 
 
 Ga-hna-zain turning her head towards her father tearfully cries out : 
 " O Father, this brahmin illuses us even as though we were his own 
 " born-slaves. I cannot believe that he is really a brahmin, for a true 
 " brahmin is an observer of the law, and has compassion on others. 
 " 1 think this creature must be a beeloo, who has assumed the form of a 
 " brahmin, so that he may devour us. How can you, O father, thus see 
 " us dragged away to be eaten, and still look on silent and unmoved?" 
 
 On seeing his beloved daughter thus go away weeping and trembling, 
 Pa-ya-loung is seized with the most poignant grief. His breast grows 
 hot like molten iron in the smelter's furnace, while his hot breath comes 
 and goes through his lips, his nostrils being insuffient to give it passage, 
 and his tears, like drops of blood, fall from his eyes. Still he considers : 
 " The grief I suffer is only on account of the affection I have for the 
 " children. Were I indifferent (my mind undisturbed by passion) it would 
 " not be thus," so he again calls forth the strength of his wisdom to 
 control his anxieties, and soon recovers his ordinary composure. 
 
 The children go on their way lamenting their hard fate, calling upon 
 the guardian spirits of the earth, the hills, the lakes, and rivers, the trees 
 and plants, to tell their mother that they are well. They lament that 
 their mother stayed so long in the forest, for had she returned earlier, 
 she would have reached home before their departure, and would have 
 entertained the brahmin with sweet fruits, etc. Had he, they thought, 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA YA. 53 
 
 well eaten of these refreshments he would not thus illtreat us. And thus 
 they tearfully pursue their weary way towards the confines of the Winga 
 hills. 
 
 And why had not Ma-dee returned before the departure of the 
 children ? The story explains that it was owing to the interference of the 
 supernatural powers. The sounds which had marked Pa-ya-loung's giving 
 away of the children, and whose echoes had reached to the Ek-ka-nait-ta By- 
 amma seats, was listened to with pleasure by the various guardian nats of the 
 Hee-ma-won-ta forests. The cries and lamentations of the two children too 
 are heard by these celestial beings, whose hearts are filled with pity at the 
 sound. The most powerful of them at once take note of the matter. 
 They foresee that should Ma-dee return early to the cell, she would miss 
 the children, and would learn from the prince that he had given them to a 
 brahmin ; when she, moved by her great affection for Ga-hna-zain, would 
 follow their footsteps and in the thick wood meet with danger from wild 
 animals. Thus she would fail to find her children, in addition Ipe all alone, 
 and so come to destruction, while her husband would.be ignorant of her 
 fate. To prevent such a misfortune, these guardians of the unhappy exiles 
 call three subordinate nats, and direct them to assume the forms of a lion, 
 a tiger, and a leopard, respectively, and to take up positions in the road 
 Ma-dee would have to follow, to prevent her passing until after sundown, 
 and then to protect her from other wild animals, until, by the light of the 
 moon, she should have regained her cell. The three nats do as they are 
 directed, and crouch down in the road by which Ma-dee will pass. 
 
 Ma-dee, as the day passes, feels uneasy on account of her dream, and 
 long before sunset determines to return home, with such fruits and roots, 
 as she has by that time collected. Even as she thus resolves, her tender 
 delicate frame is seized with a sudden tremor ; she puts down her fruit 
 and stands gazing into space ; her spade falls from her hand, her basket 
 and hook from her shoulder. Her right eye twitches ; * she sees trees 
 bearing fruit, as if without any ; trees with only leaves seem covered with 
 fruit ; while the ten cardinal points are no longer clear, (i. e. her head 
 turns giddy). " What is the matter with me ?" she cries, " never has this 
 " happened to me before. Does it betoken a danger to me, to the children, 
 " or to the prince?" Weeping she hastens on towards the cell. Just then 
 
 i. All involuntary movements of the eyes, head or forehead are considered as 
 indications of the fortune of those by whom they are experienced. 
 
54 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 the sun sinks behind the hill, and the three beasts created by the nats, 
 rise from their crouching positions, and stand barring the way. Ma-dee 
 breaks out into loud lament. " Alas the sun has gone down, the cell is 
 " still far distant. My husband and children at home will be looking for 
 " the food I bring. If I do not arrive at my usual hour, what will they 
 " do ? My prince would come to look for me thus delayed, but I suppose 
 " he is obliged to remain at home to sooth and quiet the children, 
 " hungry for want of their evening meal. They, at supper time, will be 
 " like orphaned fawns looking for milk. They were wont to run to meet 
 " me, as little calves run to meet their dams. Alas ! this road is only 
 " wide enough for one person to pass at a time, precipices are on both 
 " sides of it ; there is no other way by which to go. O ye mighty beasts, 
 " supreme in your strength, do you be my brothers. 1 beg you, lovingly 
 " regard me as your sister ; and open the way for me to pass. I am the 
 " wife of W^-than-da-ya, an exile from his country. Never have I 
 " behaved disrespectfully to him. Even as in former time, when Prince 
 " Ya-ma, son of Da-tha-ya-ta, king of Ba-ra-na-thee, was banished by his 
 " father, and lived in a forest, did his sister, Princess Thee-ta, follow him 
 " into exile, and as his consort, respectfully care for his wants, so 
 " have I followed my prince, (banished also by his father,) and respectfully 
 " attended upon him. O my brothers, out of pity for my supperless children 
 " now at home, out of pity for me longing to see their faces, allow me 
 " to pass on my way. If you want food, lo ! I will give you the half of 
 " the fruits in this basket, You, by your strength, are very kings among 
 " beasts ; I, too am a princess born of parents of unbroken royal lineage. 
 " So we are alike, and I regard you as my brothers ; consider me your 
 " sister, and out of regard for her let me pass on." And as she thus 
 spoke, she put down her basket, and clasping her hands, made obeisance 
 to the animals before her. 
 
 By this time, the hour had come when they might allow poor Ma-dee 
 to go on her way, which perceiving, the three beasts stand aside, and 
 then return to their abodes. It was then the day of full moon. Ma-dee 
 continues on her way, till she arrives at the end of the avenue in front of 
 the cell, when not seeing the children, she feels surprised at their not 
 running joyfully to meet her, as it was their habit to do, when she daily 
 returned from the forest. She remembers that at the sight of them, all 
 feelings of fatigue used to vanish ; but " now," she cries, " alas ! where are 
 " they ? As a she-goat leaves her kids, as a bird leaves her young in the 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 55 
 
 " nest, as a lioness leaves her cubs in her den and goes in search of food, 
 " so I, for the same purpose, have left my children at home in the cell ; 
 " but alas ! I do not see them. Every day, when from a distance they 
 " see me returning, they hasten to meet me, running and jumping hither 
 " and thither, and all around, but now alas ! where are they?" 
 
 Ma-dee's lamentations are too long to give in full. She pursues her 
 weary way, struck with the silence that surrounds the cell, and at last 
 arrives at her home, where she sees Pa-ya-loung sitting all alone and 
 silent. She draws near to him, and putting down her basket cries : " O 
 " prince, what has happened that you sit thus, motionless and silent ? 
 " Oh ! was not the dream I dreamed at dawn this day indeed a portent ? 
 " The birds even now are all dumb. Are my children dead ? Prince, 
 " why do you remain silent ? Oh ! is it not even according to my dream ? 
 " Are the children dead ? What has happened ? Have they been eaten 
 " by the wild beasts of this silent forest ? Oh who has taken them away ? 
 " Or have you, prince, sent them away to their grandfather King Thain- 
 " see, in Se-dot-ta-ya ? Or are they sweetly asleep within the cell, or gone 
 " away outside to play ? Alas ! I cannot see them any where. Can it 
 " be that the great elephant bird Hat-tee-lain-ga "" tha-koo-na, 2 has 
 " swooped down and carried them off? Oh ! who can have taken my 
 " children away ?" 
 
 Thus does Ma-dee, helpless in her grief, lament ; but all in vain. 
 Pa-ya-loung remains perfectly silent, replying not a word. And Ma-dee 
 continues : " Oh prince, why will you not speak to me ? What have I 
 " done ? Although banished from our native country, we have had to 
 " dwell in this forest, yet having our children with us we have been 
 " happy. Now not seeing them, who are the joy of their parents, I am 
 " bitterly grieved. But that you will not speak to me, O prince, is even 
 " a greater grief still. It is like beating a man already suffering from the 
 " bite of a great serpent, or striking one who has fallen from the top of a 
 " sugar palm tree, or like thrusting a sharp thorn into a bleeding wound. 
 " If indeed, prince, you all this night continue without speaking to me, 
 " at to-morrow's dawn you will certainly behold my breathless body 
 " lying dead before you." 
 
 1. Pali. Hatthilingo, a sort of vulture with a bill like an [elephant's trunk. 
 
 2. Sakuno. A bird. 
 
56 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 Pa-ya-loungcan no longer remain unmoved. To relieve Ma-dee's anxiety, 
 (by diverting her thoughts) he speaks to her in the stanzas : " Na-noo-mad- 
 dee-wa-ra-rau-ha ra-za-pot-tee-ya-thath-thee-nee pa-tau-ga-ta-thee-ot-'ta ya 
 kee-mee-dan tha-ya-ma-ga-ta," piercing her heart as though with a needle. 
 " O Ma-dee, you are altogether beautiful in form and feature. In this 
 " dark forest many hermits, recluses, magicians, woodmen, and hunters are 
 " continually passing to and fro. Who was to know what had become of 
 " you in the forest ? Why did you not return to-day at your usual hour ? 
 " At early dawn even you went away, forsaking your son, leaving your 
 " daughter, and now at night, at an unseemly hour only, do you return. 
 " A. woman who, for the support of husband and children, frequents the 
 " forest for food and fuel, does not act like you, but goes and comes at 
 " certain appointed times. You have had no thought of what might 
 " happen to your children, or of what your husband might be thinking, but 
 " have followed your own inclination, and now, after moon rise only, do 
 " you return home. You have made my mind uneasy, and for your late 
 " return you are to blame." Thus does Pa-ya-loung, by means of the 
 clever artifice of speaking harsh words to his consort, though piercing her 
 heart as if with a needle, for a moment divert her anxious thoughts 
 from her children. 
 
 To the cruel insinuations conveyed, poor Ma-dee meekly replies : 
 " O prince, you should not be unjust (supicious) ; let me speak, and listen 
 " to my words. At dawn this day I dreamed an evil dream, and with my 
 " heart full of anxiety, I went to the forest as usual to seek for fruit and 
 " roots. I could only think of my dream, and my heart could feel no 
 " peace ; so as soon as I had collected a bare sufficiency of food, I 
 " resolved to return home at an early hour, and was doing so with all 
 " haste, when the earth suddenly shook with violence, while the birds 
 " broke into joyful song, and the whole forest echoed with a mighty sound. 
 " O prince, did you not hear the voices of the birds ? During all the 
 " seven years we have lived here in the forest, I never heard the like. And 
 " being all alone in the deep forest I was seized with great fear, so I 
 " raised my hands in obeisance to the earth beneath, to the sky above, 
 " and to the eight points, (of the compass) and prayed that no leopard, 
 " tiger, lion, bear, rhinocerus, or other wild creature might molest my 
 " husband and children. When the unusual sounds of the wild animals 
 " and birds fell on my ears, I remembered my dream, and longed to 
 " return early to the cell, even before sun-set, but whenever I drew near 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 57 
 
 " to a fruit covered tree, to gather fruit, though it bent with the weight, 
 " it seemed as though there was none on it, while trees destitute of fruit, 
 " appeared as though heavily laden. So having collected what fruits, 
 " roots, etc., I could under such difficulties, I was going home, when an 
 " evil omen befel me. The hook I held tightly in my hand fell to the 
 " ground, while from my left shoulder slipped the baskets of fruit there 
 " slung. At this omen I was seized with an access of terror and anxiety 
 " and was hastening to get home before sunset, when a lion, a tiger, and 
 " a leopard stopped my path so that I could not pass ; only after they 
 " went away elsewhere could I go on, and thus have been delayed beyond 
 " my usual hour. O Prince, be not angry with me. Forgive me, Oh 
 " forgive me." 
 
 Ma-dee's explanation receives no notice from Pa-ya-loung. He sits 
 silent, without uttering a single word, and Ma-dee thus resumes her 
 lamentation : " Alas ! I have carefully tended the Prince my husband, 
 " like as a pupil, who knotting his hair as a recluse abandons the 
 " life of his fellow villagers to practise the cardinal virtues, l and obser- 
 " vant of the five duties 2 tends on his teacher. I have carefully watched 
 " over my children that they should not suffer. O beloved children ! 
 " where are you ? Come to your mother, who continually goes hither and 
 " thither, searching for your food lest you should hunger. Come to her 
 " who daily, on her return from the forest, forgets her fatigue, and gives 
 " you, when you have bathed, powder of the turmeric root, yellow as gold, 
 " to rub on your bodies. She has brought you now ripe ot-shee 3 fruit 
 " to play with ; she has brought you lily roots, lily stems, and the seed 
 " vessels with the stamens of the flower, and kek-koo 4 fruits, sweet like 
 " honey. Come and enjoy them with your father. O Prince, Lord of 
 " the people of Thee-wa, give to your son Za-lee this lotus lily, which I 
 " have brought from the tank, and this brown lily to your daughter 
 " Ga-hna-zain. Oh ! call the children, that they may bedeck themselves 
 " with these flowers, and dance about and sweetly sing. If you see them, 
 " Oh ! shew them to me. If indeed they are here, why do you torment 
 
 1. Good will, compassion, sympathy (in others happiness,) stoicism. 
 
 2. Rising to meet his teacher; learning what his teacher teaches; attending 
 
 on his teacher thrice daily; doing as his teacher directs ; cheerfully per- 
 forming the greater and lesser duties. 
 
 3. Bengal quince; bale fruit. 4. Gum benzoin. 
 
58 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " me to death with anxiety. Since your father banished you to this forest 
 " we have not been parted in joy, we have been together in sorrow, but 
 " it seems now as though you cursed me, saying, * look no longer upon 
 " my children.' " 
 
 Pa-ya-loung pays no attention to Ma-dee's pitiful complaint but remains 
 silent as before. 
 
 She therefore gets up and leaves him, and, by the light of the moon, 
 goes seeking the children in the places where they were wont to play ; 
 crying, when she comes to the foot of certain trees : " Alas ! in the shade 
 " of this tree my children used to amuse themselves, but now they are no 
 " longer here," and so she wanders from tree to tree, till she reaches 
 the brook in which they used to play ; and to the top of the hill where 
 they gathered flowers and plucked sweet fruits \ crying everywhere : 
 " These were the haunts of my children, whom alas ! I no longer can 
 " see." Returning to the cell, her eyes fall on the toy animals with which 
 they used to amuse themselves, and again her grief breaks out. The 
 birds and animals of the forest, on hearing her cries, and the sound of 
 her feet, are frightened and fly away, at which she, remembering how 
 the children used to play among them, cries all the more. 
 
 Again leaving the cell, she hastens, weeping, to all the other places 
 where the children were accustomed to play, to the clumps of flowering 
 shrubs, to the tank covered with beautiful lilies, and countless water fowl, 
 but of course in vain, so she returns again to Pa-ya-loung, and seeing 
 him sitting with sad countenance, lost in thought, she thus again 
 addresses him. " O prince, daily you were wont to split wood for fuel, 
 " to fetch water, and kindle the fire in the fire place, but now not one 
 " of these three household duties have you performed. And why do 
 " you now sit sorrowing with downcast face, even like a man devoid 
 "of wisdom? I do not approve of your behaviour. Than you, my 
 " prince, to me there is no one dearer. You are even dearer to me than 
 " life itself. And though, living with you, I have had painfully to seek 
 " for food in the forest, yet when I saw your face, all my troubles used to 
 " vanish and leave only joy behind. But though I now behold 
 " your dear face my grief is not assuaged ; but only am I more sorrowful. 
 " My grief is that, when I ask you about my children whom I no longer 
 " see, you will not answer me a word." 
 
 Pa-ya-loung keeps silence as before, and Ma-dee goes trembling away. 
 She soon returns however, and once more addresses the prince. " O 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 59 
 
 " prince I cannot see the children anywhere. Oh ! who can have taken 
 " them away? Are they dead? Not a crow or black cuckoo even is 
 " to be seen. Alas ! it is evident that my son and daughter are dead !" 
 
 Pa-ya-loung still takes no notice, and Ma-dee again wanders away, 
 seeking her lost ones in various directions. The story states that the dis- 
 tance travelled by the poor princess during the night in her three expedi- 
 tions of search was about fifteen yoo-za-na. At dawn she comes 
 again to Pa-ya-loung and cries out bitterly : " O prince, I have spent all 
 " this night looking for my children and have gone to the forest, to the 
 " top of the hill, to the caverns, gorges and precipices ; to the pond, lake 
 " and tank ; to the river bank and to the trees, but cannot find them. 
 " Alas ! my children must indeed be dead ;" and clasping her hands above 
 her head, upright as she stands she faints, and falls insensible at 
 Pa-ya-loung's feet, even like a golden plantain tree cut through at its roots. 
 
 Pa-ya-loung, thinking that she is indeed dead, is seized with a violent 
 tremor. Alas !" he cries, " my princess is dead, in this lonely forest, and 
 " not in our own land. Had she indeed died in Se-dot-ta-ya, among 
 " her kindred, friends, and the nobles of the land, the two countries 
 " of S-ta and Thee-wa would have been troubled. But now what shall 
 " I do here all alone." He is seized with great grief, but presently, 
 somewhat controlling himself, he thinks, " Is she indeed dead ?" So he 
 rises up, and bending down, puts his hand on her bosom, and finds 
 that she still breathes. Then he hastens to get water in a pitcher, and, 
 although for seven years past he has not so much as touched her with his 
 hand, his sorrow is too heavy upon him for him to remember that they 
 are living as celibate recluses, and with tears in his eyes, he gently 
 raises Ma-dee's head upon his knees, and sprinkles water upon it, chafing 
 her face and bosom, to bring her back to consciousness. After a time 
 Ma-dee regains her senses and in confusion at once gets up ; then making 
 obeisance to Pa-ya-loung, she asks him what has become of the children. 
 Whereupon he tells her plainly that he has given them away to a brahmin, 
 who came to beg for them. On hearing this, she reproachfully asks him, 
 how he could allow her to pass the whole night seeking after them, and 
 in bitter sorrow running to and fro hither and thither. Pa-ya-loung 
 replies that, man as he was, he was deeply grieved at parting from the 
 children, and that as women's hearts were very tender, he feared to tell 
 her the truth lest her's should break. " O Ma-dee, he says, yesterday 
 " morning a miserable old brahmin mendicant came begging to this cell. 
 
60 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " To him, I gave the children even to be slaves. Do not you be troubled, 
 " but be easy. Look not for their faces, but look only on mine. Do not 
 " weep. When my father shall hear that the brahmin has taken away 
 " the children, he will recall us to our country. When we get there, we 
 " shall recover the children uninjured, and also our slaves and retinue ; 
 " our gold, silver and all our property, and live together in peace and 
 " prosperity. O Ma-dee, when a righteous man has set his heart on a 
 " good object, he will give away his children, or opening his breast, give 
 " even his heart to the mendicant, who comes asking for it. Rejoice 
 " thou at this my most excellent offering, of our son and daughter. 1 " 
 
 Ma-dee replies : " O prince, I am content that you should have given 
 " away to this troublesome brahmin the children whom, for ten months, 
 " I bore in my womb, and whom since their birth, I daily have bathed 
 " three times, anointed with fragrant ointments, and nursed in my bosom. 
 " O prince, in making this offering have you set your mind at peace 
 " and are you free from all wavering ? I congratulate you. May you yet 
 " make even a greater offering than this. 
 
 Pa-ya-loung replies : " O Ma-dee, why do you ask whether I have satisfied 
 " my mind ? If indeed, having offered my children, I was unable to be 
 " at ease (control my heart,) such wondrous portents would not have 
 " happened to me," and he then related to Ma-dee all the circumstances 
 of the earthquake and echoing noises, that had taken place at the time 
 of the offering. 
 
 While the prince and princess were thus conversing, their guardian 
 angel, the king of the nats, was watching over them, and thus thought to 
 himself, " Only yesterday We-than-da-ya gave his children to Zoo-za-ga the 
 " brahmin ; if now any vile persons come and ask him for the peerless 
 "^Ma-dee, he will give her away also, and having done so, will be left with- 
 " out anyone to care for his wants, all alone, helpless in the forest, and 
 " will indeed be very miserable. So I will go to the prince in the guise 
 " of a brahmim, and beg for Ma-dee, and having in this way secured to 
 " Pa-ya-loung the attainment of supreme intelligence, and arranged that 
 " Ma-dee shall not be given to any one else, I will restore her to him." 
 
 So, at dawn, the Tha-gya puts his design into execution, and in the form 
 of a brahmin appears before the prince and Ma-dee. With the usual 
 
 I. It would seem that the knowledge that everything would come right in the 
 end does not in any way detract from tbe merit of the prince's offering. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 6 1 
 
 saluation he asks the prince if he is well, if his wants are well supplied, 
 and whether he is free from trouble and from wild animals, reptiles, insects 
 etc. etc. The prince replies in the affirmative, and adds that the brah- 
 min he sees before him, staff in hand with the air of a nat, is the second 
 person he has seen come to him during the seven years he has passed in 
 the forest. He expresses a hope that the brahmin has come on a good 
 errand, and invites him to enter the cell to wash his feet, and refresh 
 himself with the sweet fruits and cool water awaiting him therein. He 
 then inquires the object of his visit. 
 
 The pretended brahmin at once states that he has come to receive an 
 offering, the prince being devoted to charity ; an inexhaustible source 
 thereof, even like a river of water which cannot run dry, and asks for 
 Ma-dee. The prince remembers that the day before he gave away his 
 son and daughter, but never thinks, *' How shall I now give away Ma-dee, 
 and remain all alone in the forest ?" He, on the contrary, feels as glad as 
 when the bag of gold was put into his hand. He feels no desire to with- 
 hold her, or any flinching from the sacrifice, but with peaceful happy mind, 
 holding Ma-dee by the hand thus speaks, while the whole forest and 
 hill echo with a clattering noise. " I yesterday gave away my son and 
 " daughter ; to-day I give Ma-dee my princess. I do not give away my 
 " wife and children because I love them not, but because a hundred, 
 " a thousand times more than I care for them, I long for universal know- 
 " ledge." Then pouring water from a pitcher, he makes the offering, 
 whereupon the wonderful prodigies which happened on former occasions, 
 are for the sixth time repeated. 
 
 Ma-dee says to herself : " Let me not be unhappy, that the Prince thus 
 " gives me away, let me not shed even a tear ; let not mine eyes cast an 
 " angry look ; let not my face even be sad. It is not from hatred that 
 " the prince gives away such a woman as myself who, beautiful in every 
 " feature, desires only to be subject to her husband's will. The prince 
 " only gives me away, because he desires an object even more desirable 
 " than I am. May he obtain his wish." And so she stands silent, 
 looking at the prince's face. Pa-ya-loung regards her to see how she 
 bears the trial, on which she asks him why he looks at her, and then 
 speaks out boldly, as a woman of ordinary character would not dare to 
 do, even like a lion, to this effect, her mind free from all fear and flinch- 
 ing. " O Prince, from the time I was sixteen years old, have I been 
 " your wife, and you my husband,, and, we being thus husband and wife, 
 
62 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " you have had authority over me. The one having authority, may give 
 il (his wife) to any one he pleases ; or if he desire riches, may sell her to 
 " obtain them ; or if he desire her flesh, her limbs, her very eyes even, 
 " may kill her, and take them. Prince, do to me as you will, I shall in 
 " no way be vexed with you for so doing." 
 
 The Tha-gya, perceiving Ma-dee's excellent disposition, then addresses 
 Pa-ya-loung : " O great Prince, you have now vanquished and overcome 
 " the two great greeds, namely, that one which arises from a cleaving to 
 " the happiness of the nat abode, and the other which is the outcome of 
 " a regard for the good things of this world of men. Prince, at the offer- 
 " ing of your children and your wife, you caused this whole ocean- 
 " bounded earth to resound and shake. Your illustrious renown has 
 " reached and spread throughout the seats of the nats. All around, 
 " bright lightnings have glitteringly flashed at untimely season, while a 
 " sound as of rending rocks has been heard. The Na-ra-da, Wap-pa-ta, 
 " Paithano, Thau-ma, Ya-ma, Wa-tha-wa-raw Nats j 1 the Tha-gya him- 
 '' self, and the Byam-mas all standing at the doors of their palaces, have 
 " applauded, saying, Behold ! Prince We-than-da-ya, alone in the forest, 
 " has performed an action hard for any one else to attempt ; he has 
 " given away to a brahmin the wife who tended on him ! Although those 
 " oppressed by greed, i, e. the unrighteous, are acquainted with the 
 " practices observed by the righteous, such as religious offerings, etc., 
 " they cannot perform them. It is very difficult for the unrighteous to know 
 " or to observe the laws of the righteous, such as the making of offerings. 
 " So as there are unrighteous ones unable to observe these laws, there 
 " are in this present world two states 2 to which all created beings must 
 " pass, viz. Nee-ree-ya ga-dee, 3 and Theg-ga ga-dee. 4 The unrighteous, 
 " filled with the demerit of such evil actions as greed and reluctance in 
 " giving, must pass to the hell called Nee-ree-ya ga-dee ; while the right- 
 " eous, filled with the merit of such good deeds as charity and alms-giving, 
 " will reach Theg-ga ga-dee the Nats abode. You, O Prince, living here, 
 " moved by your desire to attain supreme intelligence, have given up 
 " even children and wife. O Prince, the three duties of good deeds done 
 " by the body, by the lips, and by the mind, which together obtain the 
 
 i. Certain chief nats. 2. Pali. Ga-ti a future state. 
 
 3. Hell, literally the lowest; probably here means those future states that are 
 
 worse than that of man, or those of brutes and spirits. 
 
 4. Heaven, the states above man, those of nats and brahmas. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 63 
 
 " merit due to charity, may be said to form the excellent carriage, for the 
 " road to highest saintship. O Prince, this carriage, charity, is now perfect- 
 " ed for you. Mount therein and ride, without alighting any where, to 
 " the nat abode To-thee-ta, 1 and after having there enjoyed the happiness 
 " of the nats for 576,000,000 of the years of men, when you return to 
 " this earthly world, may the merit gained by your charity, secure to you 
 " the omniscience you so desire." 
 
 Thus did the disguised Tha-gya congratulate the Prince on his offering. 
 Then not desiring to stay longer, he resolved to restore Ma-dee to her 
 husband, and return to his own abode. So he again addresses Pa-ya-loung 
 thus : " O Prince. I now give back to you your wife, the beautiful Ma-dee, 
 " by her lineage, by her beauty, by her virtues (behaviour) she is indeed 
 " peerless. You are her equal in birth, in physical form, in character ; 
 ' no man, who is wanting in either one of these three qualifications, even 
 " though he may possess the other two, is worthy even to speak to 
 " Ma-dee ; and no woman, wanting in lineage, in beauty, or in virtue, is 
 " worthy to tend on you. Your two minds are like each other, even as 
 " milk in colour is like a newly polished shell. 2 Your respectful, loving 
 " regard for each other, is as that which exists between brother and 
 " sister, teacher and pupil, parents and child. Although you are two 
 " bodies and two minds, yet each giving way to the other's wish, there is 
 " really but one body and one mind, even as Ginga 3 and Ya-mon-na 
 " streams uniting, flow on together as one river. As husband and wife you 
 " have together in Se-dot-ta-ya performed repeated acts of charity, and, 
 " though banished from your country, and compelled to live in this forest, 
 " you O prince, have given up children and wife. And, in after time, you 
 " both together, as long as you shall live, shall continue to make offerings, 
 " greater and more numerous than in time past, and lay up that accumu- 
 " lation of merit which shall prove the foundation of the omniscience 
 " which you seek to attain." 
 
 Having thus restored Ma-dee to Pa-ya-loung, the Tha-gya manifests 
 himself in his proper form in the sky, his nat's body shining like the glori- 
 ous sun, and thus addresses Pa-ya-loung : " O Prince ! behold I am the 
 
 1. Tusita, the fourth Devaloka or nat heaven. Without alighting anywhere, 
 
 means to pass from earth to the nat heaven without undergoing any 
 intermediate existence. 
 
 2. A conch. 3. The Ganges and Jumna. 
 
64 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 Tha-gya, the sovereign of the celestial hosts, who have come to visit 
 you, and now offer to grant you eight boons, Name your desires." 
 Pa-ya-loung hastens to reply. " O Prince of nats, if indeed you will 
 " grant my eight desires, they are these ; may the anger of my father be 
 " appeased, so that he may recall me to my country, and restore me to 
 " my kingly state, even as I was before. May I, thus restored to princely 
 " dignity, have no disposition to cause the execution of anyone, even 
 " though he may, by his wrong doing, be adjudged deserving of death. 
 " May all people, small and great, look on me as their succour, and rely 
 " on me alone for their means of subsistence. May I not as much as look 
 " upon another's wife to desire her, but be content with my own, and let 
 " me not be inclined to follow the will of woman. May those related to 
 " me, children, wife, relations, be granted health and long life, and by the 
 " power of the law overcoming their enemies, be happy in their regal state. 
 " May all necessities, such as food, etc., be provided daily at dawn of day. 
 " May riches inexhaustible be found for alms-giving, and may I following 
 " the three Se-ta-na, 1 charitably and freely give, and on such offerings only 
 " joyfully set my mind. Finally, may I, when I pass away from this 
 " present state, reach the To-thee-ta nat abode, and after that be born 
 " again but once in this world of men, and there attain omniscient 
 " intelligence". 
 
 The Tha-gya then announces that before long Pa-ya-loung's father will 
 desire to see his son, and come to seek him ; will restore him to all his 
 former dignities, and take him back to Se-dot-ta-ya. Moreover that all 
 his other desires will, in due course of time, be accomplished. He then 
 speeds away to his own abode in Ta-wad-ain-tha nat country, and Pa-ya- 
 loung and Ma-dee remain in happy concord in the cells the Tha-gya had 
 so long before prepared for them. 
 
 The story now turns to the unfortunate children of the illustrious 
 recluse, and relates what became of them. The brahmin took them on 
 their long journey of sixty yoo-za-na, and as they went the nats watched 
 over them. Each evening at sun-down, the brahmin tied them with 
 creepers among the bushes, making them sleep on the ground, while he, 
 afraid of wild animals, climbed up and slept in the fork of a tree. As 
 soon as he was asleep, two nats would arrive in the forms of Pa-ya-loung 
 
 i. Inclinations to good thoughts, good words, good deeds* 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 65 
 
 and Ma-dee, and unbinding the children, would wash and dress them, 
 and provide them with nats' food and couches ; would watch over them 
 during the night and at early dawn would tie them again, and then 
 vanish away. So thus cared for and assisted, the two children went 
 safely on their journey. 
 
 The old brahmin travelled on, as he imagined, in the direction of his 
 village Don-nee-wee-ta, in Ka-lain-ka, but the nats contrived that he 
 should not arrive there, but come in fifteen days, to S-dot-ta-ya, sixty 
 yoo-za-na distant from the Winga hills. At dawn, on the day of his 
 arrival, King Thain-see dreamed a dream. He saw himself seated in 
 high durbar, and a dark complexioned man approach, and present to him 
 two blossoms of the Pa -do-ma l lily, which he himself placed as earrings 
 one in each ear, when the stamens fell from the flowers on to his breast. 
 On waking, the king at once sent for his brahmin astrologers (literally, 
 sign readers), and commanded them to interpret his dream. They 
 assured him that it was of happy augury, and foreshewed that some of 
 the king's beloved relations, from whom he had been separated many 
 years were about to come before him. King Thain-see was delighted to 
 hear this, and at an early hour washed his head, it being the day appoint- 
 ed in each month for so doing. Then, having breakfasted on many 
 dainty dishes, he adorned himself, and went to the High Court of Justice 
 where he took his seat, surrounded by his nobility. Just then the 
 brahmin Zoo-za-ga, averse from going to Se-dot-ta-ya but led thither by 
 the power of the nats, was passing on the road, directly before the face of 
 the king. The latter looking down the road, perceived the two children 
 and remarked : " O Nobles, those two children, with faces pleasant to 
 " look upon as pure newly refined gold, are indeed very beautiful. 
 " They are just like each other, who can they be ? One is very like my 
 " grand-son Za-lee, the other like my grand-daughter Ga-hna-zain. My 
 " grand-children were even as two little lion cubs coming out of a 
 " golden cave, and these two children, with faces pleasing as pure gold 
 " are very comely. I think they must be my grand-children." And 
 summoning a noble, he commanded him to go and bring the brahmin 
 and the children to him. The king's order is carried out, and as soon as 
 the brahmin draws near, the king asks him whence he brings the children 
 
 i. Lotus. 
 
66 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 and whither he is taking them. The brahmin replies, (compelled appa- 
 rently by some unseen power to speak the truth for once in his life) : " O 
 " king, these two children were given to me fifteen days ago by the 
 " charitable prince We'-than-da-ya." The king refuses to credit the story. 
 " How," says he, " should any one give away the children of his bosom ?" 
 and commands the brahmin at once to give a satisfactory account of how 
 he became possessed of the children, without any further pervarications, 
 The brahmin replies : " O king, even as this earth is the shelter place 
 " (abode) of all created beings, so is prince We'-than-da-ya the succour of 
 " mendicants. The great ocean is the destination to which all rivers 
 " flow, and prince We-than-da-ya is the goal to which all mendicants 
 " hasten. So the prince, even in the forest, did give away his children 
 " to me, who came to him asking an offering." On hearing these words, 
 all the nobles of the court began to murmur against We-than-da-ya, saying 
 to each other : " Even were the prince here in his country, in his old 
 " prosperity, it would not be right for him to give away his beloved 
 '' children. How therefore can it be right for him, living in the forest to 
 "do so? How can the giving of his dear children to the brahmin as 
 " slaves, be justified ; he being deprived of the happiness of living in his 
 " country, leading a painful existence in the forest, and finding consola- 
 " tion in them alone ? Where," they asked, " is the precedent for such 
 " an offering ? If," they cried, " it is desired to make offerings, ele- 
 " phants, horses, cattle, goats, gold, silver, grain, clothes and jewels may 
 " fitly be given, but certainly it is not right to give one's own loved 
 " children away to be miserable slaves." 
 
 The two children, on hearing the cries of the nobles, were unable to 
 bear in patience the blame cast on their father, and Za-lee spoke out 
 like a powerful nat raising up with his arm great Myimmo mountain, 
 bent by the blast of the Kabba 1 destroying wind : " O king ! even 
 " though my father, living in the forest, desired to give elephants, horses, 
 " goats, cattle, carriages, or slaves, whence was he to obtain them ?" King 
 Thain-see replied : " Dear children, I (or we) can only applaud your father's 
 " gift of his children. I (or we) do not find fault with him. Yet how was 
 " your father's heart when he gave you away ?" " O king," replied Za lee, 
 ;< when our father gave us to this brahmin, he was exceeding sorrowful. 
 
 I. The world; which is sometimes destroyed by fire, sometimes by water, 
 sometimes by wind. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 67 
 
 " After he had given us away, when my sister Ga-hna, unable to bear the 
 " blows and abuse of the brahmin, ran to him, crying, ' O father, this 
 " brahmin ties me with creepers, and cruelly beats me, as though I were 
 " his born-slave. A true brahmin is wont to observe the law, but this 
 " person is, I think, no brahmin, but an ogre. O father, how could you 
 " give me to this monster, who has come in the form of a brahmin, to beg 
 " me from you, that he may devour me,' when Ga-hna thus bitterly 
 " cried to our father, his eyes were red like Rau-ha-nee, l he could not 
 " restrain his tears, and his heart was exceeding sorrowful." 
 
 The brahmin, although he heard what was being said, made no move- 
 ment to free the children, which king Thain-see perceiving said : " Dear, 
 " children, your mother is a princess of the highest lineage, as also is 
 " your father's and you are my grand-children ; before you went to 
 " the Winga hills, you used to climb up to my bosom as soon as you saw 
 " me ; why do you now stay far off, instead of running to your grand- 
 " father ?" Za-lee answers : " O grand-father, our mother indeed was a 
 " princess and our father a prince, and we were in truth formerly the 
 " grand-children of a king, but now we are that no longer, but only the 
 " slaves of this brahmin," The king answers : " Dear grand-children, do 
 " not speak thus ; your grand-father's heart is hot as though burnt with fire 
 " and his body even as though cast into a fire of bright flaming coals, and 
 " he is dizzy so that he cannot sit at ease. When I hear what you say 
 " I am seized with immeasurable grief. Do not be afraid, I will ransom 
 " you from the brahmin, for why should my dear grand-children be slaves ? 
 " Tell me then what value your father put upon you when he gave you 
 " away. Tell your grand-father exactly at what you were valued, so that he 
 " may redeem you from the brahmin." 
 
 Za-lee then told the king what his father had directed should be the 
 amount of the ransom to be given for himself and his sister, and King 
 Thain-see at once called a noble, and commanded him to procure the 
 monies, elephants, horses, cows, bullocks, slaves, etc., together with one 
 hundred couches regal and princely, with all other furniture, one hundred 
 of each article required, and to give them to the brahmin, which being 
 done, the king appointed for him a palace with a seven staged spire. 
 
 So the brahmin became possessed of much wealth, and many attend- 
 ants, such as he had not merely never inherited, or expected to inherit, 
 
 i. Aldebaran. 
 
68 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 from his ancestors, but had never even seen. So he collected the various 
 things he had got, and sat on a splendid couch in his palace, filled 
 with happiness, enjoying a sumptuous repast. 
 
 Having ransomed his grand-children, King Thain-see had their heads 
 washed, their bodies bathed and dressed in splendid clothes and perfumed 
 with sweet scents. Then their foreheads having been anointed with per- 
 fumed ointments, he bedecked them with beautiful sweet flowers, and 
 took Za-lee on his lap, while Ga-hna-zain sat on her grand-mother Po-tha. 
 dee's. He then began to make inquiries of the child regarding his father 
 and mother, asking whether they were well, whether they had enough to 
 eat, and were free from danger and annoyance from wild animals, noxious 
 insects, etc., etc. To all these questions Za-lee answered in the affirm- 
 ative, and described how his mother, every day after she had performed 
 her duties at the cell, took her spade and basket and went to the forest 
 to procure fruit and roots, returning at evening when they all would take 
 their supper together. 
 
 He related also how she had become thin in body, and of pale wasted 
 appearance, owing to being obliged to labour so hard to find food for them. 
 He told how she, a delicate princess, had become faded like a brown lily 
 when gathered, and tanned by the burning rays of the sun. How, by 
 going under the bushes, and among the trees of the forest full of wild 
 animals, such as leopards, tigers, lions, bears, wild bulls, rhinoceros, bison, 
 etc., her beautiful hair had been torn till but little remained. How her 
 body and limbs were disfigured with dust. How with her hair tied in a 
 knot, her body clothed only in the skin of a black leopard, she slept at 
 night on the bare ground. And that he made humble reverence to the 
 mother who thus painfully had sought their food, and supported him and 
 his sister. 
 
 Having thus made known the distress of his mother, Za-lee, with a view 
 to incite his grand-parents to recall his father and mother to their home, 
 thus proceeded : " O grand-father, in this world men are wont to be very 
 " fond of their children, but it appears as if you had no regard for yours." 
 On hearing these words, king Thain-see was unable to avoid feeling 
 repentance, and acknowledged to Za-lee that he had done wrong in 
 giving way to the desire of the people of Thee-wa, and banishing his son 
 We'-than-da-ya, innocent as he was. That his banishment was unjustifi- 
 able, and that by giving way to the wish of the people, he had brought 
 great trouble both to himself and his son. " O Zalee," he says at last, 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA YA. 69 
 
 "I see my error, and will restore to your father his former princely 
 " position in this land. Let your father, again as before, as a king even, 
 " rule over the people of the country." Thus tacitly he gave Za-lee per- 
 mission to tell his father to return, but with this the boy is not satisfied. 
 
 He answers that the prince, his father, cannot be expected to return at 
 his (Za-lee's) call, and entreats the king to go himself, and consecrate him 
 again as prince, with great dignities, even as a faded tree is restored to 
 life by a heavy fall of rain. 
 
 Then king Thain-see called a noble, a general of the forces, and telling 
 him that he is about to go to the Winga hills to restore prince We-than- 
 da-ya to his former state, commanded that elephants, horses, chariots, 
 troops, Parohait brahmins, and all the military train, should be pre-pared ; 
 that the road to the hills should be made good, and that the sixty 
 thousand nobles, born at the same time as the prince, should assemble 
 before him, martially dressed and armed. And that other troops should 
 be dressed as befitted them, in brown, in red or in white garments stuffed 
 with cotton and quilted. 
 
 " And then," said the king, " when all the nobles and warriors are 
 " assembled in warlike array, wearing their head dresses of state on 
 " their heads, my city shall be resplendent on all sides and be of a 
 " sweet odour, even as the mighty Himalaya Mountain, (abode of nats 
 " and ogres), is bright all round with perfume trees, and covered with 
 " the sweet scented Gan-da ma-da-na flowers." 
 
 " Let the fourteen thousand war elephants be assembled, with howdahs 
 " and trappings of gold, their riders carrying spears and guiding hooks in 
 " their hands. Let also the fourteen thousand cavalry assemble, armed 
 " with bows and arrows, riding on fourteen thousand well-bred horses of 
 " Scinde, swift as the wind ; also four thousand iron-bound chariots, orna- 
 " mented with gold and silver, with flags of victory planted at the front of 
 " each, with men carrying shields, oval and round ; also clever archers, 
 " able to hit the tip of an animal's tail from any distance within their sight." 
 
 King Thain-see also gave orders that the road from Se-dot-ta-ya to the 
 Winga hill sixty yoo-za-na long should be put in order. " O nobles," he 
 said, " let the road that my son shall travel over be cleared from all trees 
 " and bushes for a breadth of eight o-tha-ba 1 wide, and the uneven places 
 " made level. Let the towns, villages, and hamlets along the road, set 
 
 i. One o-tha-pa is equal to 150 feet, 
 
70 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " to the spreading of sand on the way, to the scattering of flowers and 
 " sweet perfumes, to the erection of latticed screens at the sides of the 
 " way and their ornamentation, to the planting of bananas ; to the 
 " raising of white banners, and to all other matters concerning the 
 " decoration of the road. Let there be prepared at the gates of each town 
 " and village on the way, of rice spirit and of palm wine one hundred 
 " pots each ; let also refreshment stalls be opened on both sides 
 " of the way for the supply of rice (boiled), fish, meat curies, bread and 
 " cakes, and other delicacies. Also for the recreation of the weary, let 
 " there be prepared amusements, that on being heard or seen, shall 
 " dissipate their fatigues ; players, conjurors, tumblers, pole-climbers, ring- 
 " jumpers, tight-iope dancers, singing dancers, hand clappers, drummers, 
 ' and all kinds of singers and players of music ; also bards and reciters of 
 " epic and lyric poetry, and singers of all kinds with players on the flute, 
 " conch shell, the small and great drums ; also players of wind instru. 
 " ments and cymbals, and players on sweet instruments such as the 
 " harmonica, three stringed harp, the lictle drums and lute." 
 
 The story next relates the fate of Zoo-za-ga the brahmin. As might be 
 expected it was not a happy one, for it seems that the nats, who had only 
 used him as an instrument whereby Pa-ya-loung's trial might be made, 
 and his advance towards perfection secured, as soon as the children were 
 safe in Se-dot-ta-ya, abandoned him to his own devices. It appears that 
 he, having met with such good fortune as had never happened to him 
 in his life before, was unable to content himself with a moderate quantity, 
 but ate to excess ; was unable to digest his meal and died of the surfeit. 
 His body was honorably cremated by order of King Thain-see, and pro- 
 clamation was made throughout the land by beat of drum, that any 
 person related to the deceased might claim his property. But it being 
 found that he had no relative in the country, his possessions fell to the 
 king as having no owner. 
 
 King Thain-see, having assembled his forces and made ready the road, 
 set out for the Winga hills, on the seventh day after Za-lee's arrival, the 
 boy himself being his guide, with a mighty retinue of nobles, and an 
 army forming a train twelve kau-ba-nee in number * . 
 
 i. Akkhohini, a number expressed by a unit followed by one hundred and 
 five cyphers; io,ooo,ooo 6 . 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 71 
 
 Now at that time, We-than-da-ya's white elephant Pis-sa-ya was in 
 Se-dot-ta-ya, (it having been returned to King Thain-see by the king of 
 Ka-lain-ka in whose country abundant rain had fallen in due season, from 
 the time the animal arrived there,) and King Thain-see commanded 
 that the sacred animal should be made ready to accompany him to the 
 Winga hills, on which the creature knowing that he would again see his 
 master the prince, was exceeding glad, and trumpeted with a sound 
 like a crane. 
 
 When king Thain-see set out on his journey, the trumpeting of the 
 elephants, the neighing of the horses and sound of the chariots and the 
 beasts of burden echoed far and wide, while the whole face of the 
 heavens was obscured with the floating cloud of dust. And King 
 Thain-see pursued his way surrounded by his troops and entering the 
 pleasant Hee-ma-won-ta (beauteous with the streams issuing from its rocky 
 ravines, their rapids and water falls, and with many kinds of fruit and 
 flower trees, where on the tree tops and by the rivers and lakelets multi- 
 tudes of feathered songsters of various kinds in happy pairs desport them- 
 selves flying from tree to tree, and caressing each other with their necks), 
 at last came near the Winga hills where Prince We-than-da-ya had his 
 cell. On arriving near the Mon-sa-lain-da lake Za-lee caused the mighty 
 host to form a fortified encampment of wood, placing the four thousand 
 chariots on the road by which he had come, while he placed the elephants 
 and horse to guard the mouths of the lanes formed by the coming and 
 going of the leopards, tigers, lions, and other wild animals. And the whole 
 Hee-ma-won-ta forest resounded with the sound of this mighty host of 
 men, elephants, horses, and chariots, and was heard by We-than-da-ya, 
 who wondered at it, and was in doubt whether an enemy having overcome 
 and killed King Thain-see, was not now come to put him to death also- 
 So in this fear he called Ma-dee, and they ran to the top of a hill, whence 
 looking on the assembled army, the prince thus spoke : " Listen Ma-dee, 
 " the whole forest resounds with the noise of elephants and horses, 
 " Behold the flashing tips of banners and flags. Verily it looks as though 
 " this army were about to put us to death, even as hunters and fishermen 
 " with the sharp spear kill the deer and fish which they have caught in 
 " their traps and nets. Look now and see whether these troops be of 
 " our own or of some other nation. Oh ! why should they seek to kill us> 
 " fallen from our princely estate, banished from our country, and living 
 " miserably in this forest," 
 
72 THE STOkY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 So Ma-dee carefully looked at the soldiers, and coming to the conclu- 
 sion that they were friends, thus spoke to dissipate the prince's alarm : 
 " O prince, to make the wide ocean hot with a fire of grass and rubbish 
 " is impossible, nor can an enemy succeed in harming you, O prince. 
 " For consider the eight boons the Tha-gya granted to you. Did he not 
 " promise that before long King Thain-see, your father, should come and 
 " carry you back to your county, and re-instate you in all your former 
 " dignities ? And now, even as the Tha-gya promised, shall we from 
 " these troops receive our deliverance." On hearing these words, Pa-ya- 
 loung being somewhat re-assured, with Ma-dee descended the hill, and 
 seated himself peacefully like a golden image, on the stone bench before 
 the door of his cell, feeling assured that no one would molest hermits like 
 themselves ; while Ma-dee went and sat before the door of her dwelling. 
 
 At that time King Thain-see called his queen and said : " O Po-tha-dee, 
 " if we all go at once, it will be too great a shock for the Prince and 
 " Ma-dee, so I will go first alone ; do you come a little time after, with 
 " your attendants ; let Za-lee come shortly after you, and Ga-hna-zain still 
 " later." Thus changing his arrangements for all going at one time, he 
 caused the chariot to return within the camp, and, having placed elephant, 
 horse, and foot troops in fit places round about, as guards against dangers, 
 set out to go to Pa-ya-loung, riding on Pis-sa-ya, the white elephant, and 
 surrounded by the sixty thousand nobles of the prince's retinue. 
 On arriving near Wd-than-da-ya's dwelling he dismounted, and with one 
 end of his mantle thrown over his right shoulder and the other under 
 the left arm, with clasped hands upraised he drew near to the prince, 
 and beheld him sitting on the stone bench quite happy and composed. 
 The prince and Ma-dee, on seeing their father thus come moved by love 
 for his son, rose from their seats, and ran to meet him, making respectful 
 obeisance, Ma-dee falling at the king's feet, crying : " O king, behold I am 
 your daughter Ma-dee, I make obeisance to your feet." 
 
 The king, unable to restrain his joy, clasps the two exiles to his heart, 
 kissing their foreheads, and rubbing their shoulders with his soft hands. 
 And the griefs of the three being washed away in tears of joy, the king 
 asks : " Dear son, dear daughter, how is it with you ? Are you well ? 
 " Have you been able without toil to find sufficient food ? Have fruit 
 " and roots been plentiful, and noisome insects few ? Have you been 
 " free from anxiety on account of the wild animals with which this forest 
 " abounds ?" The prince replies : " O father, our life here, supported 
 
tHE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 73 
 
 " by a bare sufficiency of fruits and roots, has indeed been hard and full 
 " of sorrow, and has been continually full of anxiety, owing to the danger 
 " of the wild creatures that surround us. But though we have thus had 
 (i to live poorly on the fruits and roots of trees, yet even as a poor man, 
 " wanting food or clothes, chastens his body ; or as a charioteer brings 
 " his horse under subjection, we without longing after food or clothes, 
 " but content with what we could get, have chastened our bodies and 
 " minds, and patiently borne our trials. But to us thus unceasingly 
 " oppressed with the fear of wild animals, the grief of being parted from 
 " our parents has day and night been an ever increasing grief) until our 
 " bodies have become thin and wasted frorrfour pining. Oh ! where 
 " should we exiles in the forest look for rest of body or peace of mind ?" 
 
 The prince then asks for news of his children, relating how he had 
 given them to a rude brahmin, who had taken them away, shamefully 
 illtreating them. He begged king Thain-see to tell him whether he had 
 heard anything of the children. " O king," he cried, " if indeed you have 
 " heard of them, heal me, miserable on account of them, that my mind 
 " may be at rest, even as a skilful physician, by his medicine or charms, 
 " quickly draws the poison from a person bitten by a snake." Then the 
 king told the prince that he had ransomed them from the brahmin, and 
 that he need not be anxious on their account. 
 
 The prince's fears were relieved on hearing this, and he then asked his 
 father about himself, whether he was well, and after his mother, whether 
 her eyes were not sore with weeping ; for, said he, she must have wept for 
 grief for her son until her eyes were sore. King Thain-see replied that 
 he and the queen were well, and that her eyes were not sore with tears. 
 The prince next asked after the nobles, generals, armies, and peoples of 
 the country, and whether plenty reigned in the land ; when the king 
 replied that all the people were well and that great prosperity existed in 
 Sfc-dot-ta-ya so that there were no thieves, nor robbers, nor quarrels ; and 
 that peace and plenty universally prevailed. 
 
 While father and son were thus conversing, Queen Po-tha-dee, thinking 
 that sufficient time had elapsed to allow We-than-da-ya to recover his 
 composure after meeting his father, set out, walking barefoot, even without 
 slippers, accompanied by her female attendants. The prince, when he 
 saw her coming, rose from his seat, and having welcomed her, and pre- 
 pared a place for her, stood reverently before her. Ma-dee bowed down 
 
 10 
 
74 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 before the queen's feet, saying, " I am your daughter Ma-dee, and I make 
 " reverence at your feet." 
 
 At this very moment Za-lee appeared, surrounded by a great retinue of 
 youthful nobles and followers, and just afterwards came Ga-hna-zain, with 
 a numerous train of young ladies and female attendants. 
 
 Ma-dee perceived them coming, ana as she gazed, the sight of her 
 children, unharmed and happy, was too much for her ; unable to control 
 her emotion, she began to tremble violently, (like one into whom an evil 
 spirit has entered) while milk trickled from her breasts. Za-lee and 
 Ga-hna-zain, on catching sight of their mother, ran towards her with joy- 
 ful cries, like little calves long parted from their dams. At this, Ma-dee, 
 with a great cry, and trembling all over, fainted away and fell to the ground. 
 The children, seeing this, as they ran swooned also, and fell senseless on 
 their mother's body. 
 
 On seeing his wife and children lying thus senseless on the ground, Pa- 
 ya-loung, unable to restiain his grief, swooned away even where he sat and 
 fell on the ground, and King Thain-see and Queen Po-tha-dee, seeing 
 what had happened, lost control of themselves and did the same. The 
 sixty thousand nobles of Paya-loung, moved to pity at the sad sight before 
 them, were unable to control their grief, and fell like a grove of young 
 Engyin trees before the world destroying wind with sudden crash, their 
 hands on their heads loosening their hair, and rolled crying on the ground. 
 
 Then again the rocks resounded ; the earth turned round like a potter's 
 wheel, and violently shook ; while the mighty deep was greatly agitated. 
 Myem-mo Mount bent towards the Winga hills, like a cane roasted with 
 fire, and throughout the six abodes of nats, a mighty sound was heard. 
 And this was the seventh earthquake. Now when the Tha-gya per- 
 ceived the six royal personages, lying senseless on the ground, not one 
 of them being able to rise and sprinkle water on the others, he resolved 
 to go to their assistance, and cause the Pouk-ka-ra wa-tha l rain to fall 
 on them, like rain on a pond of lilies. And this Pouk-ka-ra wa-tha rain 
 was such that it fell only on those who wished to be wet, and on those 
 who did not desire it, not a drop fell. 
 
 So the six princes were refreshed and restored to their senses, and all 
 the people cried out with wonder at seeing a rain that fell only on certain 
 
 i. Pokkharain, a lotus, water. PokkharanI ; a lotus pond, a tank, reservoir. 
 Vassati : to rain. 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 75 
 
 persons and not on others, and at the earthquake. " What a fearful 
 prodigy is this," they thought, and then, with their hands raised above their 
 heads, they uttered a pitiful cry to the king, that he would take back the 
 prince and Madee to Se-dot-ta-ya, and restore them to their former pros- 
 perity and princely estate. 
 
 Paya-loung, on hearing the cry of the assembled nobles, thus spoke to 
 his father : " O king, you together with the nobles and people did banish 
 " me, though an observer of the duties incumbent on kings, from the 
 " country and compelled me to live in this forest." The king replied, 
 " Dear son, I did indeed commit an evil action, when giving way to the 
 will of the people of Thee-wa I banished my innocent son, but dutiful 
 children should not hesitate to relieve their parents of any affliction they 
 may be suffering, even at the cost of their own lives. Now I am suffer- 
 ing great sorrow and regret for having banished you. Forget and forgive 
 your father's fault ; and to heal his griefs, accede to his desire. Cast 
 off now your hermit's guise, resume your princely state, and return again 
 to your country. 
 
 Then Paya-loung (who, although wishing to be a prince again, had re- 
 frained from shewing himself glad, remembering that a wise man should 
 not be violently moved under sorrow, nor shew gladness too evidently 
 under joy, and had only reproachfully alluded to his banishment so that 
 the king and the people should in future hold him in proper respect) after 
 King Thain-see acknowledged his wrong-doing, said he was satisfied, and 
 would return to his country. 
 
 Then the sixty thousand nobles addressed the prince, begging him to 
 bathe and wash the dust from his body ; but he told them to wait a little, 
 and going into his cell he took off his hermit's dress, and having put it 
 away in a fit place, dressed himself in a pure white garment of Ka-thee 
 (white like a newly polished conch shell) and then, in princely guise, 
 stepped forth and exclaimed, " I dwelling in this place have practised the 
 " duty of recluse celibates, and have performed the supreme duty of 
 11 giving away wife and children, making the whole earth to tremble ;" and 
 then, in grateful remembrance of his cell, he walked round it thrice, pros- 
 trating himself before it l . 
 
 Then the nobles caused Paya-loung to be bathed, and to shave his 
 beard, after which they dressed him in kingly garments and jewels, 
 
 i. So that his forehead, elbows, waist, knees and feet rested on the ground; 
 the most respectful form of prostration. 
 
7 6 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 till in glory he was even as the Tha-gya himself, and then investing 
 him with the umbrella and the other insignia of royalty they poured over 
 him the water of consecration. 
 
 And then the nobles joined to raise a mighty shout, " Our prince has 
 " attained the pinnacle of greatness may he and Ma-dee his queen, Za-lee 
 " and Ga-hna-zain, with all the royal family, be glorious to the end of 
 " their days ; may they receive the respect and homage of all other rulers, 
 " and be the happiness of all people." 
 
 Then was Paya-loung indeed magnificent, with this mighty surrounding 
 of men of war and nobles, among whom there was not one who did not 
 feel entire respect for him, and, except his father and mother, there was 
 none who dared even to regard him face to face ; all crouched before him, 
 with their faces bowed down, their hands upon their heads ; while the 
 harps, wind instruments and flutes, cymbals, drums great and small, horns, 
 conches, trumpets and other instruments of music joined with one accord 
 to form a mighty sound like the noise of thunder over the vast ocean. 
 And then the white elephant, Pis-sa-ya, harnessed in all his trappings, was 
 brought and placed near to Paya-loung ready for him to mount. 
 
 By this time, Ma-dee, having put off her hermit's dress, had been 
 bathed by her attendants and attired in queenly robes ; and on her 
 appearing, a great shout of acclamation again arose, " May you, O queen, 
 * be happy in the love of the prince and your children, unto the end of 
 " your life. As long as you live may Za-lee and Ga-hna-zain watch over 
 " and take care of you. As long as you live may you be loved and 
 " watched over by King Thain-see." 
 
 The prince, glad again to enjoy his princely state, glad that the trials 
 he had endured during the seven long years he had dwelt in the forest 
 were over, sent the musicians about the Winga hills and caused great 
 festivals to be held. 
 
 Ma-dee, too, rejoiced greatly at her troubles being ended, and at again 
 enjoying the company of her children. She called them to her and said, 
 " O dear children, from the moment the brahmin carried you away, your 
 " mother could only eat once a day, and slept only on the ground, but her 
 " misery arose wholly from her being separated from you. But now she 
 " has you again near her, and has plenty of food and apparel. Although 
 " she was very miserable her sorrow is turned to joy at the sight of your 
 " faces. Your father too is exceeding glad to see you again. May our 
 " united affection for you, even as an umbrella, overshadow and con- 
 

THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 77 
 
 " tinually protect you, and may King Thain-see, your grandfather, watch 
 over and assist you forever." 
 
 Queen Po-tha-dee sent to her daughter-in-law garments and jewels, 
 saying, " Let these raiments of Kau-ma, Kau-dom-pa and Ka- 
 " thee which will become her well, be sent to Ma-dee. Let also 
 " this golden pendant for the neck in shape like a Pa-pa-ya fruit ; this 
 " necklace formed of the ten jewels ; this girdle of precious gems ; 
 " this golden wreath for the forehead ; this ornament for the bosom formed 
 " of various jewels resplendent in green, gold, red and blue ; and these 
 " ornaments for the feet, set with gems of various kinds, be given to 
 " Ma-dee, who, when she wears them, will shine, like a daughter of 
 " the nats in the Nan-da-won garden. l When, having bathed, 
 " anointed with sweet perfumes and arrayed in a pure white robe of 
 " Ka-thee, she is adorned with all her jewels, with her lips, and the nails 
 " of her hands and feet, red (though undyed ) like a ripe Kyee a * 
 " fruit, her body, supple as a golden plaintain tree fanned with the 
 " breeze in the Saitra-la-ta garden, in the lovely Ta-wa-dain-tha 3 nat 
 " abode, she will be exceeding fair to look upon. So take these to 
 " Ma-dee ; when she shall wear them, she shall be beauteous to behold, 
 " even as is the Ma-noo-thee-nee 4 bird of the Hee-ma-won-ta, when she 
 " soars to heaven on wings of varied hue." 
 
 The queen's orders having been carried out, an elephant of moderate 
 size was made ready, with golden howdah and trappings, and brought 
 near for Ma-dee to ride upon. 
 
 Then at last Prince We'-than-da-ya, his sword sheathed in a golden 
 scabbard hanging over his right shoulder, mounted his elephant, and 
 with Ma-dee riding on hers, set out towards king Thain-see's camp with 
 a mighty surrounding of nobles and followers. 
 
 When he left, all the birds ^of the forest, with one accord, gathered to- 
 gether about his dwelling and lamented, crying, " Lo ! while the prince 
 " was with us, there was no quarrelling among us, and only peace and 
 " concord prevailed, but now that he has gone, the peaceful influence 
 " will be destroyed." 
 
 1. A garden in Indra's heaven. 
 
 2. Alsomitra (Zanonia) Sarcophylla. (Mason.) 
 
 3. The lowest devaloka but one and situated on the top of mount Meru. 
 
 4. A fabulous bird of brilliant plumage. 
 
78 THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 And king Thain-see held great festivities on the hills for the space of 
 one month, and during that time, by the glory and power of Prince We'- 
 than-da-ya, not a single person of that mighty host of twelve kau-ba-nee 
 was in any way troubled or injured by wild beast or bird, but everyone 
 continued well and happy. 
 
 At the end of a month King Thain-see called his nobles and officers 
 and said, " We have stayed long enough in the forest, we will now re- 
 " turn to the town. Has the road over which my son must pass been made 
 " ready ?" 
 
 The reply was, that everything was prepared. So the king informed the 
 prince of his intention, and sent the drum among the troops (beat to 
 arms). Then all the soldiers made ready their arms and accoutrements ; 
 the generals sent, as an advanced guard, the archers, accoutred with 
 helmets and shields, brave men, each of whom, though he all alone met 
 a furious mad elephant face to face in a way wide enough for only one 
 person to pass, would scorn to turn and fly. Next the elephants, 
 chariots, and foot soldiers, forming a guard around the elephants ridden 
 by the prince, his queen, and the two children. Then all being ready, 
 the prince with this mighty host of twelve kau-ba-nee set out from the 
 Winga hills, for S4-dot-ta-ya, following the road prepared for him, and, 
 travelling one yoo-za-na per day, at the end of two months, reached his 
 destination. 
 
 On his arrival there, after having resumed his former princely state, he 
 by beat of drum, ordered the release of all prisoners confined in prisons 
 or places of restraint, (not even a dog or a cat was allowed to be caught 
 or ill treated,) so that all the inhabitants of the land greatly rejoiced and 
 in their holiday attire held great festivals. 
 
 On the evening of the day of his arrival Paya-loung thought to himself, 
 " The mendicants, having heard of my return, will throng towards me at 
 " dawn of day. What things shall I be able to give to them ?" 
 
 As he thus thought, the Thagya's throne becoming rigid, 1 indicated 
 that some thing requiring his attention had happened ; and on considera- 
 
 I. Thagya's throne. The great bandoo kambala, a stone sixty yoo-za-na long, 
 fifty wide, fifteen high, beautifully polished yet soft as wool. When the 
 Thagya desires to get on it, it lowers itself, and when he has mounted it, 
 it rises again. In it he sinks up to his neck, as in a down mattrass, so 
 long as affairs in Zampoodaip go on well. But if his attention is required 
 to anything, his couch becomes rigid, or tight like a drum, so that he is 
 raised up high and can view everything. (Sangermano.) 
 
THE STORY OF WE-THAN-fcA-YA. 79 
 
 tion, this all powerful protector of the prince was aware of his protege's 
 dilemma. So he caused a rain of the seven precious things to fall at 
 dawn, until the king's palace was strewn with jewels to the height of a 
 man's waist, while the rest of the town was covered as high as the knee. 
 
 At daybreak, Paya-loung saw what had happened and gave permission 
 to the people to collect for their own the gems that had fallen within the 
 enlosures of their houses ; but what had fallen outside, on the roads and 
 about the town, as well as all that was found within the palace walls, he 
 caused to be collected and stored in his treasury. 
 
 So by this rain the people of the land were enriched ; and prince We- 
 than-da-ya, to the end of his life, was able out of these treasures, every 
 day to make great gifts at six offering places. 
 
 And when at last his life came to an end, he passed away to the Ta-wa- 
 dain-tha nat abode, which is the paradise of those who perform virtuous 
 actions. 
 
 Such was the story related by the Most Excellent Boodha in one 
 thousand stanzas, and thus did he complete his relation : " O listening 
 " congregation, you now see that it is not on this present occasion 
 " alone that I have caused the Pouk-ka-ra rain to fall on the assembly 
 " of my kindred. You now know, that I caused the same rain to fall at 
 " the time when I was Prince We-than-da-ya." 
 
 He then proceeded to explain the connection between the personages 
 of his story, and those then living, as follows ; " O celibate recluses, he 
 " who, when I was We'-than da-ya, was Zoo-za-ga the brahmin, is now 
 " De-wa-dat, 1 the son of my uncle, king De-wa-da-ha ; the brahmin's 
 " wife A-mait-ta is now the beloved Seen-sa-ma na-wee-ka; He who 
 " then guarded the approaches to the Hee-ma-won-ta forest, Ze-ta the 
 " hunter, is now the noble San-na who accompanied me in my retreat to 
 " the forest (i. e. when Gau-da-ma abandoned his family and possessions, 
 " to prepare himself by solitary meditation for Boodha-ship) ; the 
 " hermit Iz-zoo-ta, who dwelt in the Hee-ma-won-ta, is now become my 
 " excellent disciple of the right hand, Tha-ree-poot-tara, the son of the 
 " chief of Oo-pa-daith-tha village ; the Tha-gya is now prince A-noo-rod-da 
 ' the son of my uncle (or step-father) ; he who was then my father, king 
 " Thain-see, is now again my father, Thod-dau-da-na j while she who was 
 <; then my mother, Queen Po-tha-dee. even in accordance with the 
 
 i. The enemy arid rival of Buddha, 
 
8o THE STORY OF WE-THAN-DA-YA. 
 
 " prayer she offered at the feet of the Buddh Wee-path-thee, ninety-one 
 " cycles of years ago, is now my holy mother Ma-ya. She who was then 
 " my wife Ma-dee, is now my consort Ya-thau-da-ya, the mother of 
 " Ya-hoo-la j Za-lee is now prince Ya-hoo-15, ; and Ga-hna-zain has become 
 " the rich merchant's daughter Oo-pa-la-woon, the most excellent disciple 
 '* of my left. The remaining personages around We-than-da-ya now form 
 " my congregation, and he who was then We-than-da-ya, is now myself, 
 " the Buddh, who of himself and alone has become perfectly acquainted 
 " with the five Nye-ya-dam l laws, and so gained the pinnacle of 
 ' universal intelligence." 
 
 I. Five principles, the intuitive knowledge of which is peculiar to a Buddh. 
 
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