By night to thieves a prey are we, to publicans by day,
Lewd folks abound within the realm, when evil kings bear sway.

Distrest by such a fear as this, men to the forest flee,
And round their dwellings scatter thorns, for their security.

[103] On hearing this the king addressing his chaplain said, "Master, the old man speaks truly: it is our fault. Come, let us return and rule the kingdom righteously." Then the Bodhisatta, taking possession of the body of the chaplain, stood before him and said, "Great king, let us investigate the matter." And passing from that village to another one they listened to the words spoken by an old woman. She was, it is said, a poor woman and had two grown up daughters under her care, whom she would not allow to enter the forest. But she herself brought fire-wood and leaves of trees and ministered to her daughters. One day she climbed up a bush to gather leaves and falling rolled upon the ground, and she cursed the king, threatening him with death, and uttered this stanza:

Oh! when will Brahmadatta die, for long as he shall reign,
Our daughters live unwedded and for husbands sigh in vain?

Then the priest checking her spoke this stanza:

Evil and profitless withal these words of thine, O jade,
Whence shall the king find in his realm a husband for each maid?

[104] The old woman on hearing this repeated two stanzas:

Not evil are these words of mine, nor spoken all in vain,
So long as thy defenceless folk are by oppressors slain.

By night to thieves a prey are we, to publicans by day,
Lewd folks abound within the realm, when evil kings bear sway,
When times are bad, poor maids are sad, for husbands none have they.

Hearing her words they thought, "She speaks to the point," and going farther on they listened to what a ploughman was saying. As he was ploughing, they say, his ox called Saliya was laid low, being struck by the ploughshare, and its owner cursed the king and repeated this stanza:

So may Pancala fall to earth by spear-thrust of his foe,
As Saliya by ploughshare hurt, poor wretch, here lieth low.

Then the priest, to check him, spoke this stanza:

With Brahmadatta thou art wroth, though no good cause is shown,
And while thou dost revile the king, the guilt is all thine own.

Hearing this the ploughman replied in three stanzas:

With Brahmadatta I am wroth, and rightly I maintain;
Defenceless folk are ever thus by their oppressor slain.

By night to thieves a prey are we &c.

[105] The slave had twice to cook the food and brought it late to me;
While all agape for her, my ox was wounded fatally.

Going on still further they stayed in a certain village. Next day early in the morning a vicious cow kicked a milkman and upset him, milk and all. The man cursed Brahmadatta and repeated this stanza: