safely into harbor."
The fourth one said: "To those bound in chains of evil, he has come like a redeemer. His law will set the world free."
The fifth one said: "To those tormented by old age and sickness, he has come like a savior. His law will bring deliverance from birth and death."
Three times they bowed, then continued on their way.
In the meanwhile, King Suddhodana wondered what had become of the prince, and he sent many servants out to search for him. One of them found him absorbed in meditation. The servant drew near, then suddenly stopped, overcome with admiration. For the shadows of all the trees had lengthened, except of that tree under which the prince was seated. Its shadow had not moved; it still sheltered him.
The servant ran back to the palace of the king.
"My lord," he cried, "I have seen your son; he is meditating under a tree whose shadow has not moved, whereas the shadows of all the other trees have moved and lengthened."
Suddhodana left the palace and followed the servant to where his son was seated. Weeping for joy, he said to himself:
"He is as beautiful as fire on a mountain-top. He dazzles me. He will be the light of the world, and my limbs tremble when I see him thus in meditation."
The king and his servant dared neither move nor speak. But some children passed by, drawing a little chariot after them. They were making a noise. The servant said to them, in a whisper:
"You must not make a noise."
"Why?" asked the children.
"See him who meditates under the tree? That is Prince Siddhartha. The shadow of the tree has not left him. Do not disturb him, children; do you not see that he has the brilliance of the sun?"
But the prince awoke from his meditations. He rose and approaching his father, he said to him:
"We must stop working in the fields, father; we must seek the great truths." And he returned to Kapilavastu.
7
SUDDHODANA kept thinking of what Asita had told him. He did not want his family to die out, and he said to himself:
"I will arouse in my son a desire for pleasure; then, perhaps, I shall have grandchildren, and they shall prosper."
So he sent for the prince, and he spoke to him in these words:
"My child, you are at an age when it would be well to think of marriage. If there is some maid that pleases you, tell me."
Siddhartha replied:
"Give me seven days to consider, father. In seven days you shall have my answer."
And he mused:
"Endless evil, I know, comes of desire. The trees that grow in the forest of desire have their roots in suffering and strife, and their leaves are poisonous. Desire burns like fire and wounds like a sword. I am not one of those who seek the company of women; it is my lot to live in the silence of the woods. There, through meditation, my mind will find peace, and I shall know happiness. But does not the lotus grow and flourish even amid the tangle of swamp-flowers? Have there not been men with wives and sons who found wisdom? Those who, before me, have sought supreme knowledge spent many years in the company of women. Arid when the time came to leave them for the delights of meditation, theirs was but a greater joy. I shall follow their example."
He thought of the qualities he would value most highly in a woman. Then, on the seventh day, he returned to his father.
"Father," said he, "she whom I shall marry must be a woman of rare merit. If you find one endowed with the natural gifts I shall enumerate, you may give her to me in marriage."
And he said:
"She whom I shall marry will be in the bloom of youth; She whom I shall marry will have the flower of beauty; yet her youth will not make her vain, nor will her beauty make her proud. She whom I shall marry will have a sister's affection, a mother's tenderness, for all living creatures. She will be sweet and truthful, and she will not know envy. Never, not even in her dreams, will she think of any other man but her husband. She will never use haughty language; her manner will be unassuming; she will be as meek as a slave. She will not covet that which belongs to others; she will make no inconsiderate demands, and she will be satisfied with her lot. She will care nothing for wines, and sweets will not tempt her. She will be insensible to music and perfume; she will be indifferent to plays and festivals. She will be kind to my attendants and to her maidens. She will be the first to awaken and the last to fall asleep. She whom I shall marry will be pure in body, in speech and in thought."
And he added:
"Father, if you know a maid who possesses these qualities, you may give her to me in marriage."
The king summoned the household priest. He enumerated the qualities the prince sought in the woman he would marry, then:
"Go," said he, "go, brahman. Visit all the homes of Kapilavastu; observe the young girls and question them. And if you find one to possess the necessary qualities, bring her to the prince, even though she be of the lowest caste. For it is not rank nor riches my son seeks, but virtue."
The priest scoured the city of Kapilavastu. He entered the houses, he saw the young girls, he cleverly questioned them; but not one could he find worthy of Prince Siddhartha. Finally, he came to the home of Dandapani who was of the Sakya family. Dandapani had a daughter named Gopa. At the very sight of her, the priest's heart rejoiced, for she was beautiful and full of grace. He spoke a few words to her, and he doubted no longer.
The priest returned to King Suddhodana. "My lord," he exclaimed, "I have found a maid worthy of your son."
"Where did you find her?" asked the king.
"She is the daughter of the Sakya, Dandapani," the brahman replied.
Though he had great confidence in his household priest, Suddhodana hesitated to summon Gopa and Dandapani. "Even the wisest men can make mistakes," he thought. "The brahman may be exaggerating her perfections. I must put the daughter of Dandapani to a further test, and my son himself shall judge her."
He had many jewels made out of gold and silver, and by royal command a herald was sent through the streets of Kapilavastu, crying:
"On the seventh day from this day, Prince Siddhartha, son of King Suddhodana, will present gifts to the young girls of the city. So may all the young girls appear at the palace on the seventh day!"
On the day announced, the prince sat on a throne in the great hall of the palace. All the young girls of the city were present, and they filed before him. To each one he presented a jewel, but, as they approached the throne, his striking beauty so intimidated them that they lowered their gaze or turned their heads away. They hardly took the time to receive their presents; some were even in such haste to leave that they merely touched the gift with the tips of their fingers, and it fell to the floor.
Gopa was the last one to appear. She advanced fearlessly, without even blinking her eyes. But the prince had not a single jewel left. Gopa smiled and said to him:
"Prince, in what way have I offended you?"
"You have not offended me," replied Siddhartha.
"Then why do you treat me with disdain?"
"I do not treat you with disdain," he replied. "You are the last one, and I have no jewel to give you."
But suddenly he remembered that on his finger he was wearing a ring of great value. He took it off and handed it to the young girl.
She would not take the ring.
She said, "Prince, must I accept this ring from you?"
"It was mine," replied the prince, "and you must accept it."
"No," said she, "I would not deprive you of your jewels. It is for me, rather, to give you a jewel."
And she left.
When