The Venerable Nārada

Translated by E. M. Hare

[1][bodh] Thus have I heard:

One time the venerable Nārada^[1] dwelt near Pāṭaliputta,^[2]
in the Cock's Park.^[3]

Now at that time Bhaddā, the dear and beloved ranee of rajah Muṇḍa,^[4] died;
and because of the loss of his dear ranee, Bhaddā,
he neither bathed,
nor anointed himself,
nor partook of any food,
nor concerned himself with any affairs,
but day and night
clung in grief to her body
as though a-swoon.

■

After a while he summoned his treasurer, Piyaka,
and said to him:

'Prythee, friend Piyaka,
place the body of the ranee, Bhaddā,
in an oil vessel made of iron
and cover it over with another iron vessel,^[5]
so that we shall see her body longer.'

'Yes, sire,' Hyaka replied,
and he placed the body of the ranee, Bhaddā,
in an oil vessel made of iron
and covered it over with another iron vessel.

■

Now Piyaka, the treasurer, thought to himself:

Bhaddā,
the dear, beloved ranee of rajah Muṇḍa, is dead;
and because of this [49] loss,
the rajah not even bathes
or anoints himself,
nor eats food,
nor concerns himself with his affairs,
but clings in grief to her body
as though a-swoon.^[6]

What if rajah Muṇḍa go
and wait upon some recluse or godly man!

When he had learnt Dhamma,
he would pluck out the dart of sorrow.

■

And again he thought:

'Near Pāṭaliputta,
in the Cock's Park,
dwells this venerable Nārada;
and of that same reverend sir
this fair report is gone abroad:

"A sage is he,
accomplished,
wise,
learned,
an able speaker,
of ready, gracious wit,
both venerable
and arahant.^[7]

Methinks, if rajah Muṇḍa were to go and wait upon the venerable Nārada,
perhaps, after listening to the venerable one's Dhamma,
he would pluck out the dart of sorrow.

■

So Piyaka, the treasurer,
approached the rajah and said to him:

'Sire, this venerable Nārada dwells hard by Pāṭaliputta,
in the Cock's Park;
now of him a fair report has gone abroad,
that he is a sage,
accomplished,
wise,
learned,
an able speaker,
of ready, gracious wit,
both venerable
and arahant.

Maybe, if my lord were to go and wait upon the venerable one,
he could,
after listening to the venerable Nārada's Dhamma,
pluck out the dart of sorrow.'

'Very well, friend Piyaka,
announce (my coming) to the venerable Nārada.'

And he thought:

How, I wonder,
ought one like me
to approach a recluse or godly man,
previously unknown,
dwelling in the kingdom?

'Yes, sire,' he replied;
and Piyaka, the treasurer,
went and visited the venerable Nārada
and saluted him
and sat down at one side.

So seated,
he spoke thus to the venerable one:

'Reverend sir, Bhaddā, the dear and beloved ranee of rajah has died;
and because of his loss
the rajah neither bathes
nor anoints himself,
,
nor eats food,
nor concerns himself with his affairs,
but [50] clings in grief to her body
as though a-swoon.

Good it were, reverend sir,
if the venerable Nārada were to teach such Dhamma
that rajah Muṇḍa, having heard,
might pluck out the dart of sorrow.'

'Now is the time, Piyaka,
for the rajah Muṇḍa to do as he thinks fit.'

■

Then Piyaka, the treasurer, got up from his seat,
saluted the venerable Nārada
and took his leave,
keeping the venerable one on his right;
and approaching the rajah,
he said to him:

'Sire, I have made occasion with the venefable Nārada;
sire, now is the time to do as you think fit.'

'Then, friend Piyaka,
have our state carriages got ready.'

'Yes, sire,' he replied;
and when he had done so,
he told the rajah:

'Sire, the state carriages await you.'

■

Then rajah Muṇḍa got up into a state carriage
and with many others
went off in royal pomp and power
to see the venerable Nārada
at the Cock's Park.

And having gone by carriage as far as the ground allowed,
he got down and entered the Park on foot.^[8]

And the rajah Muṇḍa approached the venerable Nārada,
saluted him
and sat down at one side;
and the venerable Nārada spoke thus to him,
so seated:

'There are, Maharajah, five states not to be got to
by recluse or godly man,
by deva,
Māra
or Brahmā,
nor by anyone in the world.

What five?

Where ageing brings no old age —
that state is not to be got to
by recluse or godly man,
by deva,
Māra
or Brahmā,
nor by anyone in the world.

■

Where sickening brings no sickness —
that state is not to be got to
by recluse or godly man,
by deva,
Māra
or Brahmā,
nor by anyone in the world.

■

Where dying death —
that state is not to be got to
by recluse or godly man,
by deva,
Māra
or Brahmā,
nor by anyone in the world.

■

Where wasting destruction —
that state is not to be got to
by recluse or godly man,
by deva,
Māra
or Brahmā,
nor by anyone in the world.

■

Where ending brings the end —
that state is not to be got to
by recluse or godly man,
by deva,
Māra
or Brahmā,
nor by anyone in the world.

Maharajah, to the unlearned,
average man,
ageing brings old age;
and when he is old,
he reflects not thus:

"Not to me only
does ageing bring old age,
but wheresoever there is a coming and going,
a passing on
and an arising of creatures,
to all,
ageing brings old age:
and if, when old age comes,
I should mourn and pine,
weep and wail
and beat the breast
and fall into distraction;
food would not please me,
ugliness would come upon my body,
affairs would be neglected,
enemies would rejoice,
while friends would grieve."

And when old age comes,
he mourns,
pines,
weeps,
wails,
beats his breast
and falls into distraction.