prone upon their bellies. The man-eater seized Sutasoma, holding him erect. The rest of the kings he had caught by the foot and held head downwards and had gone off with them, knocking their heads against his heels, but in coming up to the Bodhisatta he stooped down and lifting him up placed him on his shoulders. Thinking it would be a roundabout way by the gate he leaped over the wall, eighteen cubits high, at the point where it faced him, and going forward he trampled on the temples of elephants exuding the juice of rut, overthrowing them as it were mountain peaks. Next he trod on the backs of the horses--swift as the wind were they and of priceless worth--laying them also low. Then as he stepped on the fronts of the splendid chariots, he was like to one whirling a humming top or as it were one crushing the dark green phalaka plant or banyan leaves, and at a single burst he ran a distance of three leagues. Then wondering if anyone were following to rescue Sutasoma, he looked and seeing no one he went on slowly. Noticing the drops that fell upon him from Sutasoma's hair he thought, "There is no man living free from the fear of death: Sutasoma, too, methinks, is weeping from this fear," and he said:

Men versed in lore, in whom high thoughts arise,
Such never weep, the learned and the wise;
All find herein a refuge and a stay,
That sages thus can sorrow drive away.

Is it thy kin, wife, child, perchance thyself,
Thy stores of grain, thy gold and silver pelf--
[479] What, Sutasoma, caused thy tears to flow?
Great Kuru lord, thy answer we would know.

Sutasoma said:

Nay, I no tears am shedding for myself,
Nor for my wife or child, my realm or pelf.
The practice of the saints of old I keep,
And for a promise unfulfilled I weep.

Once to a brahmin I my word did plight,
What time in mine own realm I ruled with might;
That plighted word I fain would keep and then,
My honour saved, return to thee again.

Then the man-eater said:

I'll not believe if any one should be
By happy chance from jaws of death set free,
He would return to yield him to his foe;
No more wouldst thou, if I should let thee go.

[480] Escaped from fierce man-eater shouldst thou come,
Full of sweet longings, to thy royal home,
Dear life with all its charms restored to thee,
Why in the world shouldst thou come back to me?

On hearing this the Great Being, like a lion still fearless, said:

If innocent, a man would death prefer
To life o'erclouded with some odious slur;
Should he, to save his life, a falsehood tell,
It may not shield him from the woes of hell.

The wind may sooner move some mountain high,
Or sun and moon to earth fall from the sky,
Yea, rivers all up stream may flow, my lord,
Ere I be guilty of one lying word.