Soul

OLLANTAY. Where, young fleet-foot, hast thou been? Hast thou the starry Ñusta seen? PIQUI CHAQUI. The Sun forbids such sacrilege ’Tis not for me to see the star. Dost thou, my master, fear no ill, Thine eyes upon the Inca’s child? OLLANTAY. In spite of all I swear to love That tender dove, that lovely star; My heart is as a lamb with her, And ever will her presence seek. PIQUI CHAQUI. Such thoughts are prompted by Supay; That evil being possesses thee. All round are beauteous girls to choose Before old age, and weakness come. If the great Inca knew thy plot And what thou seekest to attain, Thy head would fall by his command, Thy body would be quickly burnt.

PIQUI CHAQUI. But if Supay himself should come? OLLANTAY. I’d strike the evil spirit down. PIQUI CHAQUI. If thou shouldst only see his nose, Thou wouldst not speak as thou dost now. OLLANTAY. Now, Piqui Chaqui, speak the truth, Seek not evasion or deceit. Dost thou not already know, Of all the flowers in the field, Not one can equal my Princess? PIQUI CHAQUI. Still, my master, thou dost rave. I think I never saw thy love. Stay! was it her who yesterday Came forth with slow and faltering steps And sought a solitary path? If so, ’tis true she’s like the sun, The moon less beauteous than her face.

OLLANTAY. My beating heart is filled with dread, Beholding thee so suddenly; Perchance thy coming is a sign, Of evils overtaking me. UILLAC UMA. Fear not, Ollantay! not for that, The High Priest comes to thee this day. It is perhaps for love of thee, That, as a straw is blown by wind, A friend, this day, encounters thee. Speak to me as to a friend, Hide nothing from my scrutiny. This day I come to offer thee A last and most momentous choice ’Tis nothing less than life or death.

UILLAC UMA. ’Tis well. Now listen, warlike. Chief: My science has enabled me, To learn and see all hidden things Unknown to other mortal men. My power will enable me To make of thee a greater prince. I brought thee up from tender years, And cherished thee with love and care I now would guide thee in the right, And ward off all that threatens thee. As chief of Anti-suyu now, The people venerate thy name; Thy Sovereign trusts and honours thee, E’en to sharing half his realm. From all the rest he chose thee out, And placed all power in thy hands; He made thy armies great and strong, And strengthened thee against thy foes How numerous soe’er they be, They have been hunted down by thee. Are these good reasons for thy wish, To wound thy Sovereign to the heart? His daughter is beloved by thee; Thy passion thou wouldst fain indulge, Lawless and forbidden though it be.

I call upon thee, stop in time, Tear this folly from thy heart. If thy passion is immense, Still let honour hold its place. You reel, you stagger on the brink I’d snatch thee from the very edge. Thou knowest well it cannot be, The Inca never would consent. If thou didst e’en propose it now, He would be overcome with rage; From favoured prince and trusted chief, Thou wouldst descend to lowest rank.

OLLANTAY. How is it that thou canst surely know What still is hidden in my heart? Her mother only knows my love, Yet thou revealest all to me. UILLAC UMA. I read thy secret on the moon, As if upon the Quipu knots; And what thou wouldst most surely hide, Is plain to me as all the rest. OLLANTAY. In my heart I had divined That thou wouldst search me through and through Thou knowest all, O Councillor, And wilt thou now desert thy son?

UILLAC UMA. How oft we mortals heedless drink, A certain death from golden cup Recall to mind how ills befall, And that a stubborn heart ’s the cause. OLLANTAY. (kneeling). Plunge that dagger in my breast, Thou holdst it ready in thy belt; Cut out my sad and broken heart I ask the favour at thy feet. UILLAC UMA. (to Piqui Chaqui). Gather me that flower, boy. (Piqui Chaqui gives him a withered flower and lies down again, pretending to sleep.)

OLLANTAY. Once for all, I now confess To thee, O great and mighty Priest; Now learn my fault. To thee I speak, Since thou hast torn it from my heart. The lasso to tie me is long, ’Tis ready to twist round my throat Yet its threads are woven with gold, It avenges a brilliant crime. Cusi Coyllur e’en now is my wife, Already we’re bound and are one; My blood now runs in her veins, E’en now I am noble as she. Her mother has knowledge of all, The Queen can attest what I say; Let me tell all this to the King, I pray for thy help and advice. I will speak without fear and with force, He may perhaps give way to his rage Yet he may consider my youth, May remember the battles I’ve fought; The record is carved on my club.

(Walks up and exit.) OLLANTAY. Ollantay, thou art a man, No place in thy heart for fear; Cusi Coyllur, surround me with light. Piqui Chaqui, where art thou? PIQUI CHAQUI. (jumping up). I was asleep, my master, And dreaming of evil things. OLLANTAY. Of what? PIQUI CHAQUI. Of a fox with a rope round its neck. OLLANTAY. Sure enough, thou art the fox. PIQUI CHAQUI. It is true that my nose is growing finer, And my ears a good deal longer.

Thou must not feed, O Tuyallay, In Ñusta’s field, O Tuyallay. Thou must not rob, O Tuyallay, The harvest maize, O Tuyallay. The grains are white, O Tuyallay, So sweet for food, O Tuyallay. The fruit is sweet, O Tuyallay, The leaves are green O Tuyallay; But the trap is set, O Tuyallay. The lime is there, O Tuyallay. We’ll cut thy claws, O Tuyallay, To seize thee quick, O Tuyallay. Ask Piscaca, O Tuyallay, Nailed on a branch, O Tuyallay. Where is her heart, O Tuyallay? Where her plumes, O Tuyallay? She is cut up, O Tuyallay, For stealing grain, O Tuyallay. See the fate, O Tuyallay, Of robber birds, O Tuyallay.

OLLANTAY. Strike me to the heart. PACHACUTI. ’Tis for me to see to that, And not for thee to choose. Thy presumption is absurd. Be gone! (Ollantay rises and exit R.)

OLLANTAY. Alas, Ollantay! Ollantay! Thou master of so many lands, Insulted by him thou servedst well. O my thrice-beloved Coyllur, Thee too I shall lose for ever. O the void within my heart, O my princess! O precious dove! Cuzco! O thou beautiful city! Henceforth behold thine enemy. I’ll bare thy breast to stab thy heart, And throw it as food for condors; Thy cruel Inca I will slay. I will call my men in thousands, The Antis will be assembled, Collected as with a lasso. All will be trained, all fully armed, I will guide them to Sacsahuaman. They will be as a cloud of curses, When flames rise to the heavens. Cuzco shall sleep on a bloody couch, The King shall perish in its fall; Then shall my insulter see How numerous are my followers. When thou, proud King, art at my feet, We then shall see if thou wilt say, ‘Thou art too base for Coyllur’s hand.’ Not then will I bow down and ask, For I, not thou, will be the King— Yet, until then, let prudence rule.

(Enter PIQUI CHAQUI from back, R.) Piqui Chaqui, go back with speed, Tell the Princess I come to-night. PIQUI CHAQUI. I have only just come from there— The palace was deserted quite, No soul to tell me what had passed, Not even a dog was there. All the doors were closed and fastened, Except the principal doorway, And that was left without a guard. OLLANTAY. And the servants? PIQUI CHAQUI. Even the mice had fled and gone, For nothing had been left to eat. Only an owl was brooding there, Uttering its cry of evil omen.

PIQUI CHAQUI. I too would like to give a stroke At least, if my enemy was unarmed. OLLANTAY. To whom? PIQUI CHAQUI. I mean that Urco Huaranca chief, Who lately was in search of thee. OLLANTAY. Perhaps the Inca sends him here If so my anger is aroused. PIQUI CHAQUI. Not from the King, I am assured, He cometh of his own accord And yet he is an ignoble man. OLLANTAY. He has left Cuzco, I believe; My own heart tells me it is so I’m sure that owl announces it. We’ll take to the hills, at once.

Her eyelashes brighten her face, Two rainbows less brilliant and fair, Her eyes full of mercy and grace, With nought but two, suns can compare. The eyelids with arrows concealed, Gaily shoot their rays into the heart They open, lo! beauty revealed, Pierces through like a glittering dart. Her cheeks Achancara on snow, Her face more fair than the dawn, From her mouth the laughter doth flow, Between pearls as bright as the morn.

OLLANTAY. Gallant friends! Ye hear those words, Ye listen to the mountain chief. Filled with compassion for my men, I thus, with sore and heavy heart, Have spoken to the cruel king: ‘The Anti-suyu must have rest; All her best men shan’t die for thee, By battle, fire, and disease— They die in numbers terrible. How many men have ne’er returned, How many chiefs have met their death For enterprises far away?’ For this I left the Inca’s court, Saying that we must rest in peace; Lot none of us forsake our hearths, And if the Inca still persists, Proclaim with him a mortal feud.

Thou knowest now thy heart did beat And flutter like a butterfly; Thy skill thou couldst not then apply, No course was left thee but retreat. They had recourse to a surprise, Our warriors immolated quite. Ah! that alone could turn thee white— From shame like that, canst e’er arise? By thousands did thy warriors fall, I hardly could alone escape, With open mouth fell death did gape, A great disaster did befall.

Holding that traitor to be brave, I sought to meet him face to face— Rushing to seek him with my mace, I nearly found a warrior’s grave. My army then was near the hill, When suddenly the massive stones Came crashing down, with cries and moans, While clarions sounded loud and shrill. A rain of stones both great and small Down on the crowd of warriors crashed, On every side destruction flashed, Thy heart the slaughter did appal.

YMA SUMAC. Pitu Salla, ever you repeat The same thing and the same advice; I will open to thee my whole heart, And say exactly what I think. Know that to me this court and house Are insupportable—no less; The place oppresses—frightens me— Each day I curse my destiny. The faces of all the Mama Cuna Fill me with hatred and disgust, And from the place they make me sit, Nothing else is visible. Around me there is nothing bright, All are weeping and ne’er cease If I could ever have my way, No person should remain within. I see the people pass outside, Laughing as they walk along. The reason it is plain to see— They are not mewed and cloistered here. Is it because I have no mother, That I am kept a prisoner? Or is it I’m a rich novice? Then from to-day I would be poor. Last night I could not get to sleep, I wandered down a garden walk; In the dead silence of the night, I heard one mourn.

A bitter cry, As one who sought and prayed for death. On every side I looked about, My hair almost on end with fright, Trembling, I cried, ‘Who canst thou be?’ Then the voice murmured these sad words: ‘O Sun, release me from this place!’ And this, amidst such sighs and groans! I searched about, but nothing found— The grass was rustling in the wind. I joined my tears to that sad sound, My heart was torn with trembling fear. When now the recollection comes, I’m filled with sorrow and with dread. You know now why I hate this place. Speak no more, my dearest friend, Of reasons for remaining here.

RUMI-ÑAUI. Hast thou not seen already That Cuzco is plunged in grief? The great Inca Pachacuti is dead, All the people are in mourning, Every soul is shedding tears. PIQUI CHAQUI. Who, then, succeeds to the place Which Pachacuti has left vacant? If Tupac Yupanqui succeeds, That Prince is the youngest There are some others older. RUMI-ÑAUI. All Cuzco has elected him, For the late king chose him, Giving him the royal fringe; We could elect no other.

RUMI-ÑAUI. Thou knowest me, O mighty chief. I am that stone that fell down once, But now I fall before thy feet; O Inca! mercy! Raise me up! (Kneels.) OLLANTAY. Art thou the noble Rumi-ñaui, Great Chief and Lord of Hanan-suyu? RUMI-ÑAUI. Yes, I was that well-known Chief— A bleeding fugitive to-day. Ollantay. Rise, comrade mine. Let us embrace. (Rises.) Who has dared to treat thee thus, And who has brought thee here to me Within my fortress, on my hearth?

(To attendants.) Bring new clothes for my oldest friend. (Exit an attendant.) How is it that thou art alone? Camest thou not fearing death? RUMI-ÑAUI. A new king reigns in Cuzco now— Tupac Yupanqui is installed. Against the universal wish, He rose upon a wave of blood; Safety he sees in headless trunks, The sunchu and the nucchu red Are sent to all he would destroy. Doubtless you have not forgot That I was Hanan-suyu’s Chief. Yupanqui ordered me to come; Arrived, I came before the king, And as he has a cruel heart, He had me wounded as you see; And now thou knowest, king and friend, How this new Inca treated me.

OLLANTAY. Grieve not, old friend Rumi-ñaui, Thy wounds before all must be cured; I see in thee th’ avenging knife, To use against the tyrant’s heart. At Tampu now we celebrate The Sun’s great Raymi festival; On that day all who love my name, Throughout my realms hold festival. RUMI-ÑAUI. Those three days of festival To me will be a time of joy, Perhaps I may be healed by then, So that my heart may pleasure seek.

A corridor in the palace of Chosen Virgins. (Enter YMA SUMAC and PITU SALLA.) YMA SUMAC. Pitu Salla, beloved friend, How long wilt thou conceal from me The secret that I long to know? Think, dearest, of my anxious heart, How I shall be in constant grief Until you tell the truth to me. Within these hard and cruel bounds Does some one suffer for my sins? My sweet companion, do not hide From me, who ’tis that mourns and weeps Somewhere within the garden walls. How is it she is so concealed That I can never find the place?

PITU SALLA. My Sumac, now I’ll tell thee all— Only concerning what you hear, And still more surely what you see, You must be dumb as any stone; And you too must be well prepared For a most sad heart-rending sight— ’Twill make thee weep for many days. YMA SUMAC. I will not tell a living soul What you divulge. But tell me all, I’ll shut it closely in my heart.

A secluded part of the gardens of the Virgins, (L.) flowers, (R.) a thicket of mulli and chilca, concealing a stone door. (PITU SALLA and YMA SUMAC.) PITU SALLA. In this garden is a door of stone, But wait until the Mothers sleep, The night comes on. Wait here for me. (Exit.) (Yma Sumac reclines on a bank and sleeps. Night comes on, Yma Sumac awakes.) YMA SUMAC. A thousand strange presentiments Crowd on me now, I scarce know what— Perhaps I shall see that mournful one Whose fate already breaks my heart.

(Pitu Salla returns with a cup of water, a small covered vase containing food, and a torch which she gives to Yma Sumac. She leads Yma Sumac through bushes to the stone door, fixes the torch, presses something, and the door swings round.) (CUSI COYLLUR is discovered senseless, extended on the ground, a snake twining itself round her waist.) PITU SALLA. Behold the princess for whom you seek. Well! is thy heart now satisfied?

CUSI COYLLUR. O charming child, the seed of love, Sweet flower for my broken heart, I have been thrust in this abyss. I once was joined to a man As pupil is part of the eye; But alas! has he forgotten me? The King know not that we were joined By such indissoluble bonds, And when he came to ask my hand, That King dismissed him in a rage, And cruelly confined me here. Many years have passed since then, Yet, as you see, I’m still alive; No single soul have I beheld For all those sad and dismal years, Nor have I found relief nor hope. But who art thou, my dear, my love, So young, so fresh, so pitiful?

CUSI COYLLUR. And what is thy name? YMA SUMAC. They call me Yma Sumac now, But to give it me is a mistake. CUSI COYLLUR. O my daughter! O my lost love, Come to thy mother’s yearning heart. (Embraces Yma Sumac.) Thou art all my happiness, My daughter, come, O come to me; This joy quite inundates my soul, It is the name I gave to thee. YMA SUMAC. O my mother, to find thee thus! We must be parted never more. Do not abandon me in grief. To whom can I turn to free thee, To whom can I appeal for right?

TUPAC YUPANQUI. (to the Uillac Uma). Pronounce their sentence, great High Priest. UILLAC UMA. The light that fills me from the Sun Brings mercy and pardon to my heart. TUPAC YUPANQUI. Now thy sentence, Rumi-ñaui. RUMI-ÑAUI. For crimes enormous such as these Death should ever be the doom It is the only way, O King! To warn all others from such guilt. To stout tocarpus they should be Secured and bound with toughest rope, Then should the warriors freely shoot Their arrows until death is caused.

PIQUI CHAQUI. Must it be that evermore The Antis must all perish thus? Alas! then let the branches burn What pouring out of blood is here. RUMI-ÑAUI. Silence, rash man, nor dare to speak, (General lamentation outside.) Having been rolled just like a stone, My heart has now become a stone. TUPAC YUPANQUI. Know that tocarpus are prepared. Remove those traitors from my sight, Let them all perish, and at once.

RUMI-ÑAUI. Take these three men without delay To the dreaded execution stakes; Secure them with unyielding ropes, And hurl them from the lofty rocks. TUPAC YUPANQUI. Stop! Cast off their bonds. (The guards unbind them. They all kneel.) (To Ollantay, kneeling). Rise from thy knees; come to my side. (Rises.) Now thou hast seen death very near, You that have shown ingratitude, Learn how mercy flows from my heart; I will raise thee higher than before. Thou wert Chief of Anti-suyu, Now see how far my love will go; I make thee Chief in permanence. Receive this plume as general, This arrow emblem of command.

(Gives him a ring, or bracelet.) This mace receive, ’tis from the king, (Gives him a mace (champi).) It is his gracious gift to thee. OLLANTAY. With tears I shall nearly consume That mace thus presented to me; I am tenfold the great Inca’s slave, In this world no equal is found, My heart’s fibres his latchets shall be; From this moment my body and soul To his service alone shall belong. TUPAC YUPANQUI. Now, Mountain Chief! come near to me, Ollantay is given the arrow and plume, Though to me he gave fury and war. Notwithstanding all that has passed He continues the Andean chief, And will lead his rebels to peace; Thee also I choose for the plume; From this day thou art a great chief, And never forget in thy thoughts, I saved thee from death and disgrace.

UILLAC UMA. Illustrious King, thou wilt consent; Let us all seek this luckless one— Thou canst release from cruel bonds. Lot us go, O King! TUPAC YUPANQUI. (rising). Come all! Come all! In midst of reconciliations This young maid assaults my heart. (Exeunt.)

TUPAC YUPANQUI. My heart is torn and sorrowful At sight of so much misery. Who art thou, my poor sufferer? Child, tell me now thy mother’s name? YMA SUMAC. Father! Inca! Clement Prince! Have those cruel bonds removed. UILLAC UMA. It is for me to remove them, And to relieve this sore distress. (Cuts the rope fastening Cusi Coyllur to the wall.) OLLANTAY. (to Yma Sumac). What is thy mother’s name? YMA SUMAC. Her name was once Cusi Coyllur, But it seems a mistake. Her joy Was gone when she was prisoned here.

OLLANTAY. O renowned King, great Yupanqui, In her you see my long lost wife. (Prostrates himself before the Inca.) TUPAC YUPANQUI. It all appears a dream to me. The ‘Star’! my sister! and thy wife. O sister! what newly found joy. O Cusi Coyllur, my sister, Come here to me, and embrace me, Now thou art delivered from woe. (Music.) Thou hast found thy loving brother; Joy calms the anguish of my heart. (Embraces Cusi Coyllur.)

CUSI COYLLUR. Alas! my brother, now you know The cruel tortures I endured During those years of agony; Thy compassion now has saved me. TUPAC YUPANQUI. Who art thou, dove, that hast suffered? For what sin were you prisoned here? Thou mightest have lost thy reason. Thy face is worn, thy beauty gone, Thy looks as one risen from death. OLLANTAY. Cusi Coyllur, I had lost thee, Thou wast quite hidden from my sight, But thou art brought again to life— Thy father should have killed us both. My whole heart is torn with sorrow. Star of joy, where is now thy joy? Where now thy beauty as a star? Art thou under thy father’s curse?

All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with an evil thought, pain follows him, as the wheel follows the foot of the ox that draws the carriage.

All that we are is the result of what we have thought: it is founded on our thoughts, it is made up of our thoughts. If a man speaks or acts with a pure thought, happiness follows him, like a shadow that never leaves him.

"He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me,"--in those who harbour such thoughts hatred will never cease.

"He abused me, he beat me, he defeated me, he robbed me,"--in those who do not harbour such thoughts hatred will cease.

For hatred does not cease by hatred at any time: hatred ceases by love, this is an old rule.

The world does not know that we must all come to an end here;--but those who know it, their quarrels cease at once.

He who lives looking for pleasures only, his senses uncontrolled, immoderate in his food, idle, and weak, Mara (the tempter) will certainly overthrow him, as the wind throws down a weak tree.

He who lives without looking for pleasures, his senses well controlled, moderate in his food, faithful and strong, him Mara will certainly not overthrow, any more than the wind throws down a rocky mountain.

He who wishes to put on the yellow dress without having cleansed himself from sin, who disregards temperance and truth, is unworthy of the yellow dress.

But he who has cleansed himself from sin, is well grounded in all virtues, and regards also temperance and truth, he is indeed worthy of the yellow dress.

They who imagine truth in untruth, and see untruth in truth, never arrive at truth, but follow vain desires.

They who know truth in truth, and untruth in untruth, arrive at truth, and follow true desires.

As rain breaks through an ill-thatched house, passion will break through an unreflecting mind.

As rain does not break through a well-thatched house, passion will not break through a well-reflecting mind.

The evil-doer mourns in this world, and he mourns in the next; he mourns in both. He mourns and suffers when he sees the evil of his own work.

The virtuous man delights in this world, and he delights in the next; he delights in both. He delights and rejoices, when he sees the purity of his own work.

The evil-doer suffers in this world, and he suffers in the next; he suffers in both. He suffers when he thinks of the evil he has done; he suffers more when going on the evil path.

The virtuous man is happy in this world, and he is happy in the next; he is happy in both. He is happy when he thinks of the good he has done; he is still more happy when going on the good path.

The thoughtless man, even if he can recite a large portion (of the law), but is not a doer of it, has no share in the priesthood, but is like a cowherd counting the cows of others.

The follower of the law, even if he can recite only a small portion (of the law), but, having forsaken passion and hatred and foolishness, possesses true knowledge and serenity of mind, he, caring for nothing in this world or that to come, has indeed a share in the priesthood.

Earnestness is the path of immortality (Nirvana), thoughtlessness the path of death. Those who are in earnest do not die, those who are thoughtless are as if dead already.

Those who are advanced in earnestness, having understood this clearly, delight in earnestness, and rejoice in the knowledge of the Ariyas (the elect).

These wise people, meditative, steady, always possessed of strong powers, attain to Nirvana, the highest happiness.

If an earnest person has roused himself, if he is not forgetful, if his deeds are pure, if he acts with consideration, if he restrains himself, and lives according to law,--then his glory will increase.

By rousing himself, by earnestness, by restraint and control, the wise man may make for himself an island which no flood can overwhelm.

Fools follow after vanity, men of evil wisdom. The wise man keeps earnestness as his best jewel.

Follow not after vanity, nor after the enjoyment of love and lust! He who is earnest and meditative, obtains ample joy.

When the learned man drives away vanity by earnestness, he, the wise, climbing the terraced heights of wisdom, looks down upon the fools, serene he looks upon the toiling crowd, as one that stands on a mountain looks down upon them that stand upon the plain.

Earnest among the thoughtless, awake among the sleepers, the wise man advances like a racer, leaving behind the hack.

By earnestness did Maghavan (Indra) rise to the lordship of the gods. People praise earnestness; thoughtlessness is always blamed.

A Bhikshu (mendicant) who delights in earnestness, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, moves about like fire, burning all his fetters, small or large.

A Bhikshu (mendicant) who delights in reflection, who looks with fear on thoughtlessness, cannot fall away (from his perfect state)--he is close upon Nirvana.

As a fletcher makes straight his arrow, a wise man makes straight his trembling and unsteady thought, which is difficult to guard, difficult to hold back.

As a fish taken from his watery home and thrown on dry ground, our thought trembles all over in order to escape the dominion of Mara (the tempter).

It is good to tame the mind, which is difficult to hold in and flighty, rushing wherever it listeth; a tamed mind brings happiness.

Let the wise man guard his thoughts, for they are difficult to perceive, very artful, and they rush wherever they list: thoughts well guarded bring happiness.

Those who bridle their mind which travels far, moves about alone, is without a body, and hides in the chamber (of the heart), will be free from the bonds of Mara (the tempter).

If a man's thoughts are unsteady, if he does not know the true law, if his peace of mind is troubled, his knowledge will never be perfect.

If a man's thoughts are not dissipated, if his mind is not perplexed, if he has ceased to think of good or evil, then there is no fear for him while he is watchful.

Knowing that this body is (fragile) like a jar, and making this thought firm like a fortress, one should attack Mara (the tempter) with the weapon of knowledge, one should watch him when conquered, and should never rest.

Before long, alas! this body will lie on the earth, despised, without understanding, like a useless log.

Whatever a hater may do to a hater, or an enemy to an enemy, a wrongly-directed mind will do us greater mischief.

Not a mother, not a father will do so much, nor any other relative; a well-directed mind will do us greater service.

Who shall overcome this earth, and the world of Yama (the lord of the departed), and the world of the gods? Who shall find out the plainly shown path of virtue, as a clever man finds out the (right) flower?

The disciple will overcome the earth, and the world of Yama, and the world of the gods. The disciple will find out the plainly shown path of virtue, as a clever man finds out the (right) flower.

He who knows that this body is like froth, and has learnt that it is as unsubstantial as a mirage, will break the flower-pointed arrow of Mara, and never see the king of death.

Death carries off a man who is gathering flowers and whose mind is distracted, as a flood carries off a sleeping village.

Death subdues a man who is gathering flowers, and whose mind is distracted, before he is satiated in his pleasures.

As the bee collects nectar and departs without injuring the flower, or its colour or scent, so let a sage dwell in his village.

Not the perversities of others, not their sins of commission or omission, but his own misdeeds and negligences should a sage take notice of.

Like a beautiful flower, full of colour, but without scent, are the fine but fruitless words of him who does not act accordingly.

But, like a beautiful flower, full of colour and full of scent, are the fine and fruitful words of him who acts accordingly.

As many kinds of wreaths can be made from a heap of flowers, so many good things may be achieved by a mortal when once he is born.

The scent of flowers does not travel against the wind, nor (that of) sandal-wood, or of Tagara and Mallika flowers; but the odour of good people travels even against the wind; a good man pervades every place.

Sandal-wood or Tagara, a lotus-flower, or a Vassiki, among these sorts of perfumes, the perfume of virtue is unsurpassed.

Mean is the scent that comes from Tagara and sandal-wood;--the perfume of those who possess virtue rises up to the gods as the highest.

Of the people who possess these virtues, who live without thoughtlessness, and who are emancipated through true knowledge, Mara, the tempter, never finds the way.

As on a heap of rubbish cast upon the highway the lily will grow full of sweet perfume and delight, thus the disciple of the truly enlightened Buddha shines forth by his knowledge among those who are like rubbish, among the people that walk in darkness.

Long is the night to him who is awake; long is a mile to him who is tired; long is life to the foolish who do not know the true law.

If a traveller does not meet with one who is his better, or his equal, let him firmly keep to his solitary journey; there is no companionship with a fool.

"These sons belong to me, and this wealth belongs to me," with such thoughts a fool is tormented. He himself does not belong to himself; how much less sons and wealth?

The fool who knows his foolishness, is wise at least so far. But a fool who thinks himself wise, he is called a fool indeed.

If a fool be associated with a wise man even all his life, he will perceive the truth as little as a spoon perceives the taste of soup.

If an intelligent man be associated for one minute only with a wise man, he will soon perceive the truth, as the tongue perceives the taste of soup.

Fools of little understanding have themselves for their greatest enemies, for they do evil deeds which must bear bitter fruits.

That deed is not well done of which a man must repent, and the reward of which he receives crying and with a tearful face.

No, that deed is well done of which a man does not repent, and the reward of which he receives gladly and cheerfully.

As long as the evil deed done does not bear fruit, the fool thinks it is like honey; but when it ripens, then the fool suffers grief.

Let a fool month after month eat his food (like an ascetic) with the tip of a blade of Kusa grass, yet he is not worth the sixteenth particle of those who have well weighed the law.

An evil deed, like newly-drawn milk, does not turn (suddenly); smouldering, like fire covered by ashes, it follows the fool.

And when the evil deed, after it has become known, brings sorrow to the fool, then it destroys his bright lot, nay, it cleaves his head.

Let the fool wish for a false reputation, for precedence among the Bhikshus, for lordship in the convents, for worship among other people!

"May both the layman and he who has left the world think that this is done by me; may they be subject to me in everything which is to be done or is not to be done," thus is the mind of the fool, and his desire and pride increase.

"One is the road that leads to wealth, another the road that leads to Nirvana;" if the Bhikshu, the disciple of Buddha, has learnt this, he will not yearn for honour, he will strive after separation from the world.

If you see an intelligent man who tells you where true treasures are to be found, who shows what is to be avoided, and administers reproofs, follow that wise man; it will be better, not worse, for those who follow him.

Let him admonish, let him teach, let him forbid what is improper!--he will be beloved of the good, by the bad he will be hated.

Do not have evil-doers for friends, do not have low people for friends: have virtuous people for friends, have for friends the best of men.

He who drinks in the law lives happily with a serene mind: the sage rejoices always in the law, as preached by the elect (Ariyas).

Well-makers lead the water (wherever they like); fletchers bend the arrow; carpenters bend a log of wood; wise people fashion themselves.

As a solid rock is not shaken by the wind, wise people falter not amidst blame and praise.

Wise people, after they have listened to the laws, become serene, like a deep, smooth, and still lake.

Good people walk on whatever befall, the good do not prattle, longing for pleasure; whether touched by happiness or sorrow wise people never appear elated or depressed.

If, whether for his own sake, or for the sake of others, a man wishes neither for a son, nor for wealth, nor for lordship, and if he does not wish for his own success by unfair means, then he is good, wise, and virtuous.

Few are there among men who arrive at the other shore (become Arhats); the other people here run up and down the shore.

But those who, when the law has been well preached to them, follow the law, will pass across the dominion of death, however difficult to overcome.

A wise man should leave the dark state (of ordinary life), and follow the bright state (of the Bhikshu). After going from his home to a homeless state, he should in his retirement look for enjoyment where there seemed to be no enjoyment. Leaving all pleasures behind, and calling nothing his own, the wise man should purge himself from all the troubles of the mind.

Those whose mind is well grounded in the (seven) elements of knowledge, who without clinging to anything, rejoice in freedom from attachment, whose appetites have been conquered, and who are full of light, are free (even) in this world.

There is no suffering for him who has finished his journey, and abandoned grief, who has freed himself on all sides, and thrown off all fetters.

They depart with their thoughts well-collected, they are not happy in their abode; like swans who have left their lake, they leave their house and home.

Men who have no riches, who live on recognised food, who have perceived void and unconditioned freedom (Nirvana), their path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air.

He whose appetites are stilled, who is not absorbed in enjoyment, who has perceived void and unconditioned freedom (Nirvana), his path is difficult to understand, like that of birds in the air.

The gods even envy him whose senses, like horses well broken in by the driver, have been subdued, who is free from pride, and free from appetites.

Such a one who does his duty is tolerant like the earth, like Indra's bolt; he is like a lake without mud; no new births are in store for him.

His thought is quiet, quiet are his word and deed, when he has obtained freedom by true knowledge, when he has thus become a quiet man.

The man who is free from credulity, but knows the uncreated, who has cut all ties, removed all temptations, renounced all desires, he is the greatest of men.

In a hamlet or in a forest, in the deep water or on the dry land, wherever venerable persons (Arhanta) dwell, that place is delightful.

Forests are delightful; where the world finds no delight, there the passionless will find delight, for they look not for pleasures.

Even though a speech be a thousand (of words), but made up of senseless words, one word of sense is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet.

Even though a Gatha (poem) be a thousand (of words), but made up of senseless words, one word of a Gatha is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet.

Though a man recite a hundred Gathas made up of senseless words, one word of the law is better, which if a man hears, he becomes quiet.

If one man conquer in battle a thousand times thousand men, and if another conquer himself, he is the greatest of conquerors.

One's own self conquered is better than all other people; not even a god, a Gandharva, not Mara with Brahman could change into defeat the victory of a man who has vanquished himself, and always lives under restraint.

If a man for a hundred years sacrifice month after month with a thousand, and if he but for one moment pay homage to a man whose soul is grounded (in true knowledge), better is that homage than sacrifice for a hundred years.

If a man for a hundred years worship Agni (fire) in the forest, and if he but for one moment pay homage to a man whose soul is grounded (in true knowledge), better is that homage than sacrifice for a hundred years.

Whatever a man sacrifice in this world as an offering or as an oblation for a whole year in order to gain merit, the whole of it is not worth a quarter (a farthing); reverence shown to the righteous is better.

He who always greets and constantly reveres the aged, four things will increase to him, viz. life, beauty, happiness, power.

But he who lives a hundred years, vicious and unrestrained, a life of one day is better if a man is virtuous and reflecting.

And he who lives a hundred years, ignorant and unrestrained, a life of one day is better if a man is wise and reflecting.

And he who lives a hundred years, idle and weak, a life of one day is better if a man has attained firm strength.

And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing beginning and end, a life of one day is better if a man sees beginning and end.

And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing the immortal place, a life of one day is better if a man sees the immortal place.

And he who lives a hundred years, not seeing the highest law, a life of one day is better if a man sees the highest law.

If a man would hasten towards the good, he should keep his thought away from evil; if a man does what is good slothfully, his mind delights in evil.

If a man commits a sin, let him not do it again; let him not delight in sin: pain is the outcome of evil.

If a man does what is good, let him do it again; let him delight in it: happiness is the outcome of good.

Even an evil-doer sees happiness as long as his evil deed has not ripened; but when his evil deed has ripened, then does the evil-doer see evil.

Even a good man sees evil days, as long as his good deed has not ripened; but when his good deed has ripened, then does the good man see happy days.

Let no man think lightly of evil, saying in his heart, It will not come nigh unto me. Even by the falling of water-drops a water-pot is filled; the fool becomes full of evil, even if he gather it little by little.

Let no man think lightly of good, saying in his heart, It will not come nigh unto me. Even by the falling of water-drops a water-pot is filled; the wise man becomes full of good, even if he gather it little by little.

Let a man avoid evil deeds, as a merchant, if he has few companions and carries much wealth, avoids a dangerous road; as a man who loves life avoids poison.

He who has no wound on his hand, may touch poison with his hand; poison does not affect one who has no wound; nor is there evil for one who does not commit evil.

If a man offend a harmless, pure, and innocent person, the evil falls back upon that fool, like light dust thrown up against the wind.

Some people are born again; evil-doers go to hell; righteous people go to heaven; those who are free from all worldly desires attain Nirvana.

Not in the sky, not in the midst of the sea, not if we enter into the clefts of the mountains, is there known a spot in the whole world where a man might be freed from an evil deed.

Not in the sky, not in the midst of the sea, not if we enter into the clefts of the mountains, is there known a spot in the whole world where death could not overcome (the mortal).

All men tremble at punishment, all men fear death; remember that you are like unto them, and do not kill, nor cause slaughter.

All men tremble at punishment, all men love life; remember that thou art like unto them, and do not kill, nor cause slaughter.

He who seeking his own happiness punishes or kills beings who also long for happiness, will not find happiness after death.

He who seeking his own happiness does not punish or kill beings who also long for happiness, will find happiness after death.

Do not speak harshly to anybody; those who are spoken to will answer thee in the same way. Angry speech is painful, blows for blows will touch thee.

If, like a shattered metal plate (gong), thou utter not, then thou hast reached Nirvana; contention is not known to thee.

As a cowherd with his staff drives his cows into the stable, so do Age and Death drive the life of men.

A fool does not know when he commits his evil deeds: but the wicked man burns by his own deeds, as if burnt by fire.

He who inflicts pain on innocent and harmless persons, will soon come to one of these ten states:

He will have cruel suffering, loss, injury of the body, heavy affliction, or loss of mind,

Or a misfortune coming from the king, or a fearful accusation, or loss of relations, or destruction of treasures,

Or lightning-fire will burn his houses; and when his body is destroyed, the fool will go to hell.

Not nakedness, not platted hair, not dirt, not fasting, or lying on the earth, not rubbing with dust, not sitting motionless, can purify a mortal who has not overcome desires.

He who, though dressed in fine apparel, exercises tranquillity, is quiet, subdued, restrained, chaste, and has ceased to find fault with all other beings, he indeed is a Brahmana, an ascetic (sramana), a friar (bhikshu).

Is there in this world any man so restrained by humility that he does not mind reproof, as a well-trained horse the whip?

Like a well-trained horse when touched by the whip, be ye active and lively, and by faith, by virtue, by energy, by meditation, by discernment of the law you will overcome this great pain (of reproof), perfect in knowledge and in behaviour, and never forgetful.

Well-makers lead the water (wherever they like); fletchers bend the arrow; carpenters bend a log of wood; good people fashion themselves.

How is there laughter, how is there joy, as this world is always burning? Why do you not seek a light, ye who are surrounded by darkness?

Look at this dressed-up lump, covered with wounds, joined together, sickly, full of many thoughts, which has no strength, no hold!

This body is wasted, full of sickness, and frail; this heap of corruption breaks to pieces, life indeed ends in death.

Those white bones, like gourds thrown away in the autumn, what pleasure is there in looking at them?

After a stronghold has been made of the bones, it is covered with flesh and blood, and there dwell in it old age and death, pride and deceit.

The brilliant chariots of kings are destroyed, the body also approaches destruction, but the virtue of good people never approaches destruction,--thus do the good say to the good.

A man who has learnt little, grows old like an ox; his flesh grows, but his knowledge does not grow.

Looking for the maker of this tabernacle, I shall have to run through a course of many births, so long as I do not find (him); and painful is birth again and again. But now, maker of the tabernacle, thou hast been seen; thou shalt not make up this tabernacle again. All thy rafters are broken, thy ridge-pole is sundered; the mind, approaching the Eternal (visankhara, nirvana), has attained to the extinction of all desires.

Men who have not observed proper discipline, and have not gained treasure in their youth, perish like old herons in a lake without fish.

Men who have not observed proper discipline, and have not gained treasure in their youth, lie, like broken bows, sighing after the past.

If a man hold himself dear, let him watch himself carefully; during one at least out of the three watches a wise man should be watchful.

Let each man direct himself first to what is proper, then let him teach others; thus a wise man will not suffer.

If a man make himself as he teaches others to be, then, being himself well subdued, he may subdue (others); one's own self is indeed difficult to subdue.

Self is the lord of self, who else could be the lord? With self well subdued, a man finds a lord such as few can find.

The evil done by oneself, self-begotten, self-bred, crushes the foolish, as a diamond breaks a precious stone.

He whose wickedness is very great brings himself down to that state where his enemy wishes him to be, as a creeper does with the tree which it surrounds.

Bad deeds, and deeds hurtful to ourselves, are easy to do; what is beneficial and good, that is very difficult to do.

The foolish man who scorns the rule of the venerable (Arahat), of the elect (Ariya), of the virtuous, and follows false doctrine, he bears fruit to his own destruction, like the fruits of the Katthaka reed.

By oneself the evil is done, by oneself one suffers; by oneself evil is left undone, by oneself one is purified. Purity and impurity belong to oneself, no one can purify another.

Let no one forget his own duty for the sake of another's, however great; let a man, after he has discerned his own duty, be always attentive to his duty.

Do not follow the evil law! Do not live on in thoughtlessness! Do not follow false doctrine! Be not a friend of the world.

Rouse thyself! do not be idle! Follow the law of virtue! The virtuous rests in bliss in this world and in the next.

Follow the law of virtue; do not follow that of sin. The virtuous rests in bliss in this world and in the next.

Look upon the world as a bubble, look upon it as a mirage: the king of death does not see him who thus looks down upon the world.

Come, look at this glittering world, like unto a royal chariot; the foolish are immersed in it, but the wise do not touch it.

He who formerly was reckless and afterwards became sober, brightens up this world, like the moon when freed from clouds.

He whose evil deeds are covered by good deeds, brightens up this world, like the moon when freed from clouds.

This world is dark, few only can see here; a few only go to heaven, like birds escaped from the net.

The swans go on the path of the sun, they go through the ether by means of their miraculous power; the wise are led out of this world, when they have conquered Mara and his train.

If a man has transgressed one law, and speaks lies, and scoffs at another world, there is no evil he will not do.

The uncharitable do not go to the world of the gods; fools only do not praise liberality; a wise man rejoices in liberality, and through it becomes blessed in the other world.

Better than sovereignty over the earth, better than going to heaven, better than lordship over all worlds, is the reward of the first step in holiness.

He whose conquest is not conquered again, into whose conquest no one in this world enters, by what track can you lead him, the Awakened, the Omniscient, the trackless?

He whom no desire with its snares and poisons can lead astray, by what track can you lead him, the Awakened, the Omniscient, the trackless?

Even the gods envy those who are awakened and not forgetful, who are given to meditation, who are wise, and who delight in the repose of retirement (from the world).

Difficult (to obtain) is the conception of men, difficult is the life of mortals, difficult is the hearing of the True Law, difficult is the birth of the Awakened (the attainment of Buddhahood).

Not to commit any sin, to do good, and to purify one's mind, that is the teaching of (all) the Awakened.

The Awakened call patience the highest penance, long-suffering the highest Nirvana; for he is not an anchorite (pravragita) who strikes others, he is not an ascetic (sramana) who insults others.

Not to blame, not to strike, to live restrained under the law, to be moderate in eating, to sleep and sit alone, and to dwell on the highest thoughts,--this is the teaching of the Awakened.

There is no satisfying lusts, even by a shower of gold pieces; he who knows that lusts have a short taste and cause pain, he is wise;

Even in heavenly pleasures he finds no satisfaction, the disciple who is fully awakened delights only in the destruction of all desires.

Men, driven by fear, go to many a refuge, to mountains and forests, to groves and sacred trees.

But that is not a safe refuge, that is not the best refuge; a man is not delivered from all pains after having gone to that refuge.

He who takes refuge with Buddha, the Law, and the Church; he who, with clear understanding, sees the four holy truths:--

Viz. pain, the origin of pain, the destruction of pain, and the eightfold holy way that leads to the quieting of pain;--

That is the safe refuge, that is the best refuge; having gone to that refuge, a man is delivered from all pain.

A supernatural person (a Buddha) is not easily found, he is not born everywhere. Wherever such a sage is born, that race prospers.

Happy is the arising of the awakened, happy is the teaching of the True Law, happy is peace in the church, happy is the devotion of those who are at peace.

He who pays homage to those who deserve homage, whether the awakened (Buddha) or their disciples, those who have overcome the host (of evils), and crossed the flood of sorrow, he who pays homage to such as have found deliverance and know no fear, his merit can never be measured by anybody.

Let us live happily then, not hating those who hate us! among men who hate us let us dwell free from hatred!

Let us live happily then, free from ailments among the ailing! among men who are ailing let us dwell free from ailments!

Let us live happily then, free from greed among the greedy! among men who are greedy let us dwell free from greed!

Let us live happily then, though we call nothing our own! We shall be like the bright gods, feeding on happiness!

Victory breeds hatred, for the conquered is unhappy. He who has given up both victory and defeat, he, the contented, is happy.

There is no fire like passion; there is no losing throw like hatred; there is no pain like this body; there is no happiness higher than rest.

Hunger is the worst of diseases, the body the greatest of pains; if one knows this truly, that is Nirvana, the highest happiness.

Health is the greatest of gifts, contentedness the best riches; trust is the best of relationships, Nirvana the highest happiness.

He who has tasted the sweetness of solitude and tranquillity, is free from fear and free from sin, while he tastes the sweetness of drinking in the law.

The sight of the elect (Arya) is good, to live with them is always happiness; if a man does not see fools, he will be truly happy.

He who walks in the company of fools suffers a long way; company with fools, as with an enemy, is always painful; company with the wise is pleasure, like meeting with kinsfolk.