Posted by: ADMIN | April 9, 2011
the life of the Buddha: The Death of Devadatta
12. The Death of Devadatta
DEVADATTA was eager to succeed the Buddha as head of the community. One day, he said to King Ajatasatru: “My lord, the Buddha holds you in contempt. He hates you. You must put him to death, for your glory is at stake. Send some men to the Bamboo Grove with orders to kill him; I shall lead the way.”
Ajatasatru was easily persuaded. The assassins came to the Bamboo Grove, but when they saw the Master, they fell at his feet and worshipped him. This added fuel to Devadatta’s rage. He went to the royal stables where a savage elephant was kept, and he bribed the guards to release him when the Master passed by, so that the animal could gore him with his tusks or trample him underfoot. But at the sight of the Master, the elephant became quite gentle, and going up to him, with his trunk he brushed the dust from the sacred robes. And the Master smiled and said:
“This is the second time, thanks to Devadatta, that an elephant has paid homage to me.”
Then Devadatta himself tried to do harm to the Master. He saw him meditating in the shade of a
tree; and he had the audacity to throw a sharp stone at him. It struck him in the foot; the wound began to bleed. The Master said:
“You have committed a serious offense, Devadatta; the punishment will be terrible. Vain are your criminal attempts upon the life of the Blessed One; he will not meet with an untimely death. The Blessed One will pass away of his own accord, and at the hour he chooses.”
Devadatta fled. He decided he would no longer obey the rules of the community, and, wherever he could, he would seek followers of his own.
In the meanwhile, Vimbasara was starving. But he did not die. A mysterious force sustained him. His son finally decided to have him put to death, and he gave orders to burn the soles of his feet, to slash his limbs and to pour boiling oil and salt on the open wounds. The executioner obeyed, and even he wept to see an old man tortured.
A son was born to Ajatasatru on the day he issued the order for his father’s death. When he saw the child, a great joy came to him; he relented, and he hurriedly sent guards to the prison to stop the execution. But they arrived too late; King Vimbasara had died amid frightful suffering.
Then Ajatasatru began to repent. One day, he heard Queen Vaidehi saying to the infant prince, as she carried him in her arms:
“May your father be as kind to you as his father was to him. Once, when he was a child, he had a sore on his finger; it hurt him, and he cried; no ointment would heal it; so Vimbasara put the finger to his lips and drew out the pus, and Ajatasatru was able to laugh again and play. Oh, love your father, little child; do not punish him with your cruelty for having been cruel to Vimbasara.”
Ajatasatru shed bitter tears. He was overwhelmed with remorse. At night, in his dreams, he saw his father, bleeding from his wounds, and he heard him moan. He was seized with a burning fever, and the physician Jivaka was summoned to attend him.
“I can do nothing for you,” said Jivaka. “Your body is not sick. Go to the Perfect Master, the Blessed One, the Buddha; he alone knows the words of consolation that will restore you to health.”
Ajatasatru took Jivaka’s advice. He went to the Blessed One; he confessed his misdeeds and his crimes, and he found peace.
“Your father,” the Buddha said to him, “has been reborn among the most powerful Gods; he knows of your repentance, and he forgives you. Heed me, King Ajatasatru; know the law, and cease to suffer.”
Ajatasatru issued a proclamation, banishing Devadatta from the kingdom, and ordering the inhabitants
to close their doors to him if he were to seek refuge in their homes.
Devadatta was then near Cravasti where he hoped to be received by King Prasenajit, but he was scornfully denied an audience and was told to leave the kingdom. Thwarted in his attempts to enlist followers, he finally set out for Kapilavastu.
He entered the city as night was falling. The streets were dark, almost deserted; no one recognized him as he passed, for how could this lean, wretched monk, slinking in the shadow of the walls, be identified with the proud Devadatta? He went straight to the palace where princess Gopa dwelt in solitude.
He was admitted to her presence.
“Monk,” said Gopa, “why do you wish to see me? Do you bring me a message of happiness? Do you come with orders from a husband I deeply reverence?”
“Your husband! Little he cares about you! Think of the time he wickedly deserted you!”
“He deserted me for the world’s salvation.” “Do you still love him?”
“My love would defile the purity of his life.”
“Then hate him with all your heart.”
“With all my heart I respect him.”
“Woman, he spurned you; take your revenge.”
“Be quiet, monk. Your words are evil.”
“Do you not recognize me? I am Devadatta, who loves you.”
“Devadatta, Devadatta, I knew you were false and evil; I knew you would be a faithless monk, but I never suspected the depths of your villainy.”
“Gopa, Gopa, I love you! Your husband scorned you, he was cruel. Take your revenge. Love me!”
Gopa blushed. From her gentle eyes fell tears of shame.
“It is you who scorn me! Your love would be an insult if it were sincere, but you lie when you say you love me. You seldom noticed me in the days when I was young, in the days when I was beautiful! And now that you see me, an old woman, worn out by my austere duties, you tell me of your love, of your guilty love! You are the most contemptible of men, Devadatta! Go away! Go away!”
In his rage he sprang at her. She put out her hand to protect herself, and he fell to the ground. As he rolled over, blood gushed from his mouth.
He fled. The Sakyas heard that he was in Kapilavastu; they made him leave the city under an escort of guards, and he was taken to the Buddha who was to decide his fate. He pretended to be repentant, but he had dipped his nails in a deadly
poison, and as he lay prostrate before the Maser, he tried to scratch his ankle. The Master pushed him away with his toe; then the ground opened; fierce flames burst forth, and they swallowed up the infamous Devadatt