The King, the Prince, and the Prophecy of Betrayal

In an ancient time, the Bodhisatta was a revered teacher, known far and wide for his wisdom. One of his most promising students was a crown prince, who excelled in his studies under the Bodhisatta’s guidance. As the prince prepared to return to his kingdom, the Bodhisatta, with his deep insight, foresaw a dark future. He predicted that one day, when the prince became king, his own son would plot to harm him. To protect his student, the Bodhisatta wrote four verses and instructed the prince to recite them at specific moments in the future, when danger would arise.

The verses were as follows:

• The first should be recited at the dinner table, while eating;
• The second during a grand reception;
• The third while standing at the head of the stairs, ascending to the palace roof;
• The fourth at the threshold of the royal bedchamber.

The prince, grateful for the Bodhisatta’s wisdom, left for his kingdom, unaware of the exact moment when his son’s betrayal would unfold.

Years later, the prince became king. His son, now sixteen years old, became consumed with the ambition to seize the throne for himself. His servants, eager to support his claim, suggested that it would be better to rule while young, rather than wait for old age. They devised a plan to poison the king’s dinner, and the prince, with malice in his heart, prepared to carry it out.

However, when the king sat down to eat, he recited the first verse from the Bodhisatta: “Rats are choosy, and while they don’t like the husks, they do eat the grains.” The prince, startled by these words, feared that his plot had been discovered and refrained from poisoning his father’s food.

Undeterred, the prince and his servants devised a new plan: during an upcoming great reception, the prince would kill his father with a sword. As the king entered the hall, the prince waited for the perfect moment, but again, the king spoke words that echoed the second verse: “I heard the plot devised during the secret meeting in the forest.” The prince, now convinced that his father had learned of his scheme, fled the scene, but his servants urged him to proceed.

A week later, the prince hid with his sword at the top of a staircase, waiting for the king to ascend. As the king climbed the stairs, he spoke the third verse: “A monkey made evil plans but could not perform them.” The prince, now filled with dread, fled once more.

Two weeks passed, and the prince, growing more desperate, decided to try one final attempt. He hid his sword beneath a couch in the royal bedchamber, planning to kill his father when he entered. But as the king stood at the threshold of the room, he uttered the final verse: “I know someone is here creeping like a one-eyed goat in a mustard field!” The prince, terrified that his father had discovered his plot, revealed himself and begged for forgiveness.

The king, heartbroken and betrayed, had his son imprisoned, where he remained until his death. Only after the prince’s passing was the throne finally passed to him.

In the Lifetime of the Buddha:

In a future lifetime, the Buddha recounted a story to a king who had been deeply troubled by an ominous prophecy about his son. The prophecy foretold that the prince would one day kill the king to seize the throne. The king, unshaken by this prediction, had his knee cut open to satisfy his wife’s strange cravings for blood, which were believed to be a result of the prophecy.

The queen, fearing the prediction, twice attempted to abort the pregnancy, but the king stopped her each time. When the young prince was born, the king, despite the prophecy, continued to raise his son with love and affection.

Years later, the Buddha came to preach to the king, and during the sermon, the prince was brought to the king’s lap. As the prince played there, the king’s attention wavered, and the Buddha remarked that kings who feared their sons often kept them locked away. The Buddha then shared the story of the Bodhisatta’s past life to show how kings’ fears of their sons were often justified, yet they still loved them.

Despite the prophecy and the fears, the king remained steadfast, not allowing the ominous words to rule his actions. The Buddha did not identify any other earlier births except for his own in this case.

Moral: Even when prophecies or fears suggest betrayal, wisdom and patience in the face of adversity can lead to peace. One must not act in fear but rather trust in one’s own virtues and the power of right conduct.