risen so early and had sung in the elephant stables in so beautiful a voice. And the young boy was taken to the king, who liked him well and employed him as his attendant.
It so happened that on one occasion the king went out to hunt, taking young Dighavu with him. Dighavu 's secret resentment was burning within him, and he so drove the royal chariot that the hosts went one way, and the king's chariot went another way.
At last the king was wearied and fell asleep, resting his head in Dighavu 's lap.
"And young Dighavu thought, O Bhikkhus, 'This King Brahmadatta, of Kasi, has done much harm to us. By him we have been robbed of our troops and vehicles, our realm, our treasuries, and storehouses. And he has killed my father and mother. Now the time has come for me to satisfy my hatred '—and he unsheathed his sword."
But with the recollection of his father, the last words of his dying parent came to the remembrance of the vengeful prince. "Not by hatred, dear Dighavu, is hatred appeased. By love, dear Dighavu, hatred is appeased"—and the prince put back his sword.
The king dreamed a frightful dream, and started up terrified and alarmed. Dighavu told him the whole truth. The king was astonished, and exclaimed, "Grant me my life, my dear Dighavu! Grant me my life, my dear Dighavu!" whereupon the prince forgave his father's murder by carrying out his father's injunction and granting Brahmadatta his life. And Brahmadatta
