"To hell shall go he that delights in lies,
And he who having done a thing, denies:
[417] Both these, when death has carried them away,
As men of evil deeds elsewhere shall rise ."

The king directed some men to find out whether Sundari had been killed by anybody else. Now the ruffians had drunk the blood-money, and were quarrelling together. Said one to another, "You killed Sundari with one blow, and then threw her in the dust-heap, and here you are, buying liquor with the blood-money!" "All right, all right," said the king's messengers; and they caught the ruffians and dragged them before the king. "Did you kill herd" asked the king. They said, yes, they did. "Who bade you?" "The heretics, my lord." The king had the heretics summoned. "Lift up Sundari," said he, "and carry her round the city, crying as you go: 'This woman Sundari wanted to bring disgrace upon the priest Gotama; we had her murdered; the guilt is not Gotama's, nor his disciples'; the guilt is ours!'" They did so. A multitude of the unconverted believed, and the heretics were kept out of mischief by receiving the punishment for murder. Thenceforward the Buddha's reputation grew greater and greater. And then one day they began to gossip in the Hall of Truth: "Friend, the heretics thought to blacken the Buddha, and they only blackened themselves: ever since, our gains and glory have increased!" The Master came in, and asked what they were talking about? They told him. "Brethren," said he, "it is impossible to make the Buddha impure. Trying to stain the Buddha, is like trying to stain a gem of the first water. In bygone ages people have wished to stain a fine jewel, and no matter how they tried, they failed to do it." And he told them an old-world tale.

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Once upon a time, when Brahmadatta was king of Benares, the Bodhisatta was born into a Brahmin family. When he grew up, perceiving the suffering that arises from desire, he went away, and traversed three ranges of Himalaya, where he became a hermit, and lived in a hut of leaves.

Near his hut was a crystal cave, in which lived thirty Boars. Near the cave a Lion used to range. [418] His shadow used to be reflected in the crystal. The Boars used to see this reflection, and terror made them lean and thin-blooded. Thought they, "We see the reflection because this crystal is clear. We will make it dirty and discolour it." So they got some mud from a pool close by, and rubbed and rubbed the crystal with it. But the crystal, being constantly polished by the boars' bristles, got brighter than ever.