Monks, while the god in this way was encouraging the Bodhisattva, a dream occurred to King Śuddhodana. As he was sleeping, King Śuddhodana dreamed that the Bodhisattva was leaving the palace in the quiet of the night, surrounded by a host of gods. As the Bodhisattva left the palace, the king saw that he had become ordained and was wearing the saffron-colored robes.

As soon as the king awoke, he immediately asked the chamberlain, “Is the young prince with the consorts?”

The chamberlain replied, “Yes, Your Majesty.”

King Śuddhodana, sitting in the female quarters, thought to himself, “Then the young prince will surely leave us soon, as these omens foretell.” As a sharp pain shot through his heart, he began to scheme: “My young prince must never even set foot in the palace gardens. He must always remain inside with the maidens so that he will be addicted to their pleasures. He must never leave us!”

Then, in order for the young prince to enjoy himself, King Śuddhodana erected three palaces for each of the three seasons—hot, rainy, and cold. The Hot Season Palace was very cool, the Rainy Season Palace was both cool and warm, and the Winter Palace was naturally warm. At each palace five hundred guardsmen walked up and down the staircase. While they were ascending and descending the stairs, their calls could be heard for a distance of half a league. Everyone thought, “The young prince will never be able to leave without being noticed.”

Nevertheless all the astrologers and fortunetellers kept making the same prediction, saying, “The young prince will leave through the Gate of Auspiciousness.” So the king had massive door panels fitted into the Gate of Auspiciousness, so large that it took five hundred men to open and close each of them. The calls of these five hundred men could be heard half a league away. The king provided the palaces with the five desirable things, the likes of which had never been seen before. There were constantly young maidens around the Bodhisattva, playing their instruments, singing songs, and dancing for him.

Monks, at that point the Bodhisattva told his charioteer, “I will go to the parks, so quick, go and prepare my chariot.”

But the charioteer went to King Śuddhodana and told him, “Your Majesty, the young prince wishes to visit the parks.”

On hearing that, King Śuddhodana thought to himself, “My young prince has never been to the parks to see their lovely grounds. However, if I allow him to visit the parks, the young prince must be surrounded by women. That way he can really enjoy amorous delights and surely he will not leave us then.”

As King Śuddhodana had such love for the Bodhisattva and wanted to please him, he dispatched bell ringers and made the following announcement to the people in his city: “Seven days from now, the young prince will be visiting the grounds of the pleasure grove. You must all make sure that the young prince does not catch sight of anything disagreeable, so take care that everything that is not beautiful has been removed, and every nice thing, pleasing to the senses, has been brought forth!”

Accordingly, on the seventh day, the entire city was beautifully adorned. The parks were also adorned with canopies of cloth in various colors, as well as parasols, flags, and banners. The road on which the Bodhisattva was to proceed had been sprinkled and swept, sprayed with perfumed water, and scattered with fresh flower petals. Incense burners dispensed fragrant smoke, and along the road vases had been placed and plantain trees planted. The road was shaded with silk canopies in many colors, and festooned with nets of tiny jewel bells and decorative garlands and tassels. Four army divisions had also taken position along the route, and members of the retinue were busy adorning the young prince’s consorts.

Amid all this activity, while the Bodhisattva was exiting through the eastern gate of the city on his way to the parks, through the power of the Bodhisattva the gods from the pure realms emanated an old man on the road ahead. He was a decrepit old man, so skinny that the veins on his body protruded. His teeth had fallen out and he was covered in wrinkles everywhere. His hair was gray and he was hunched over like the rafters in a gable roof. Weak and broken, he had to use a stick to keep himself from falling. He was in pain and his vitality was long gone. The only sounds that emerged from his throat were a dry wheezing. As he stood there on the road, with the weight of his upper body supported by his stick, all his limbs were shaking and trembling.

When the Bodhisattva saw the man, he asked his charioteer the following, even though he already knew the answer:

“Charioteer! Who is that decrepit man? He is so weak, emaciated, and wrinkled; His head is all gray, his teeth are few and far between, and his body is so skinny. Holding his stick, he sways in discomfort from side to side.”

The charioteer replied:

“Your Highness, that man is overcome by old age; His senses are weak, he suffers greatly, and his strength and energy are gone. His relatives despise him and no one looks after him; Unable to function, he has been abandoned like a piece of wood in the forest.”

The Bodhisattva then asked:

“Is that a practice specific to his family, Or could that happen to anyone? Quick, tell me the truth! Then I will reflect on what I hear.”

The charioteer replied:

“Your Highness, that is not the practice of his caste or the state; For all beings, old age overcomes youth. Even your father, mother, friends, and relatives Are not free from old age, nor is any other class of people.”

The Bodhisattva then remarked:

“Charioteer, how sad! Childish and ignorant beings do not see old age, Proud and crazed as they are in youth. I will go back now—quick, turn my chariot around! If I shall also be old, how can I enjoy myself and play games?”

So the Bodhisattva turned his fine chariot around and returned to the city.

However, monks, sometime later, while the Bodhisattva was setting out for the parks through the southern city gate, again accompanied by a large parade, he saw on the road a man suffering from disease. His body was weak, and he was suffering greatly as he lay in his own urine and feces. There was no one to take care of him or assist him, and he was breathing only with the greatest difficulty. When the Bodhisattva saw this man, he turned to the charioteer and asked him the following, even though he already knew the answer:

“Charioteer, the body of this poor man is covered in sores and discolored; His senses are weak, he is crippled, and he breathes so heavily. He is so skinny, his belly is in convulsions, and he suffers; He is lying in his own excrement, in a revolting state.”

The charioteer replied:

“Your Highness, that man is seriously ill; Confronted by the terrors of disease, he is now on the brink of death. The splendor of his former health is gone and his strength has been lost; He has no protection, refuge, or sanctuary, and nowhere to go.”

The Bodhisattva then exclaimed:

“Health is just like a play in a dream! What wise person, having witnessed Such unbearable terrors of disease, Would have a positive view of playful games?”

And so, monks, once again the Bodhisattva turned his beautiful chariot around and returned to the city.

However, monks, sometime later, while the Bodhisattva was setting out for the parks through the western city gate, accompanied by a large parade, he saw on the road a dead man who had reached his end. The corpse was lying on a stretcher, covered by a cotton cloth. It was surrounded by a group of relatives who wailed, cried, and lamented. As they followed the deceased, they pulled out their hair, threw dust on their heads, beat their chests, and lamented loudly.

When he saw this, the Bodhisattva turned to the charioteer and asked him the following, even though he already knew the answer:

“Charioteer, who is this man carried on the stretcher? The other people have surrounded him, And they keep pulling their hair, scratching their faces with their fingernails, Throwing dust on their heads, beating their chests, and crying in distress.”

The charioteer replied:

“Your Highness, this man has died in Jambudvīpa; Never again shall he see his parents, wife, or children. He must abandon his possessions, his house, his friends, and his relatives, And proceed to the next world, where he shall never see his relatives again.”

The Bodhisattva exclaimed:

“How sad that old age destroys youth! How sad that health is destroyed by various sicknesses! How sad that the life of a wise man does not last long! How sad that scholars are attached to pleasure!

“Even if there were no old age, sickness, or death, The five aggregates would still be ridden with great suffering. What then about old age, sickness, and death, which always occur together? Well then! Turn around—I will think about how to be liberated from this state.”

And so, monks, once again the Bodhisattva turned his fine chariot around and returned to the city.

Monks, sometime later, while the Bodhisattva was setting out for the parks through the northern city gate, through the power of the Bodhisattva the gods emanated a mendicant in the street where they were passing. The Bodhisattva saw the mendicant and noticed that he was peaceful. He was self-controlled and restrained. He had pure conduct, and his eyes didn’t wander but looked down ahead at a distance of six feet. His behavior was beautiful and exquisite, as was the way he walked. The way he looked ahead and to the left and right was also beautiful. When he bent and stretched his limbs, he did so in an exquisite manner. The way he wore his robes and his offering bowl was delightful to see.

When he saw this monk, the Bodhisattva turned to the charioteer and asked him the following, even though he already knew the answer:

“Charioteer, who is this peaceful and calm person? He walks with his eyes toward the ground at a distance of six feet. His clothes are saffron colored and his actions so peaceful; He carries his offering bowl and is not overbearing or haughty.”

The charioteer replied:

“Your Highness, that person is what we call a ‘monk.’ He has abandoned sensual enjoyments and now acts in a very gentle manner; He has become a mendicant and searches for peace. Free from attachment and anger, he lives from alms.”

The Bodhisattva said:

“What you say is very true, and I agree; Wise beings always praise the life of a monk. Such a life is beneficial for oneself and it also helps others; It is a happy life that results in the sweet nectar of immortality.”

And so, monks, once again the Bodhisattva turned his fine chariot around and returned to the city.

Monks, King Śuddhodana both saw and heard that the Bodhisattva had been inspired in these ways. So in order to guard the Bodhisattva even more, he erected a perimeter wall around the palace, dug trenches, and strengthened the gates. He also posted guards, alerted his brave soldiers, and even prepared the cavalry. All of them were in full armor. In order to guard the Bodhisattva, he placed a full army division at each of the junctions by the four city gates to keep watch day and night, and told them to prevent the Bodhisattva from eloping. At the quarters of the consorts he directed everyone to continuously sing and play music, and not to stop for even a moment.

“You must apply all your skills in pleasure and games!” he told them. “Use all your female trickery and keep persevering with the young prince so that when his mind becomes attached to you, he will not want to leave for the sake of ordination!”

On this topic, it is said:

At the gates there are men fond of combat, holding their swords aloft; There are elephants, horses, chariots, and men in armor on rows of elephants. Ditches have been dug, and tall walls and archways with turrets have been built; There are gates so solid that their noise can be heard for several miles.

All the Śākyas are worried and keep guard day and night; The great noise of the powerful army is heard everywhere. The city is in turmoil and full of terrified cries: “May the Gentle One not depart! If the holder of the Śākya lineage leaves, this royal line will be broken!”

The women are told, “You must never stop your songs and music; You must make him stay, so captivate his mind with your games of pleasure. Demonstrate all your many ways of female trickery and make a good effort; Watch over him and create hindrances so that the Gentle Being does not depart!”

These are omens that foretell the departure of the best of charioteers: The swans, cranes, peacocks, mynas, and parrots do not make any sounds. They sit on terraces, by palace windows, on gateways, parapets, and pedestals; Depressed, unhappy, and miserable, they hang their heads and remain silent.

Even the beautiful lotuses in the ponds and the pools wither and die; The foliage and the flowers in the trees disappear, and the trees blossom no more. The strings on the lutes and the sitars break for no apparent reason; The drums, big and small, all break when touched and emit no sounds.

The whole city is disturbed and overcome by lethargy; Nobody has any desire for dancing, singing, or making merry. Even the king is severely depressed and given to brooding; He wonders, “Oh no, will the Śākya lineage, of such fortune, now be destroyed?”

As Gopā and the prince lie asleep in the same bed, A dream appears to Gopā in the middle of the night. She dreams that the entire earth with all its mountains is shaken; The trees are rocked by the wind, and uprooted they fall to the ground.

The sun, the moon, and the stars that adorn them fall from the sky onto the earth; She sees her shorn-off hair in her right hand, and her diadem crumbling into pieces. Her hands and feet are cut off and she finds herself naked; Her pearl necklace and the jewel in her girdle break apart.

The four legs of her bed break off, and she ends up lying on the ground; The beautiful and splendorous handle of the king’s parasol is broken. All her ornaments fall off and are scattered about and carried off by water; Her husband’s ornaments, clothes, and crown lie scattered on their bed.

Torches are carried out from the city, which is left behind in darkness; The beautiful jewel lattices she sees in her sleep are broken. The tassels of pearl fall off and the ocean is stirred; She dreams that Meru, the king of mountains, is shaken in its foundation.

These are the dreams that appear to the daughter of the Śākyas. As she awakens with tearful eyes, she asks her husband, “Lord, what is going to befall me? Please tell me the meaning of these dreams! My memory is confused, and I cannot see clearly. My heart is aching!”

The Lord replies to Gopā in a voice as sweet as the nightingale, a drum, or Brahmā, “Cheer up! Nothing bad is in store for you. Only beings who have created previous merit have such dreams; People for whom there is suffering in store could never dream like that.

“When you dream that the earth is shaken And the mountains crumble to the earth, It shows that gods, nāgas, rākṣasas, and bhūtas All rank you as the highest among those worthy of worship.

“When you dream that the trees are uprooted And you cut off your hair with your right hand, It shows that you, Gopā, will quickly cut the web of afflictions And free yourself from the web of viewing conditioned phenomena.

“When you dream that the sun and the moon fall to the ground And that the stars fall as well, It shows that you, Gopā, will quickly conquer the enemy of afflictions And will become worthy of offerings and praise from the world.

“When you dream that your pearl necklace is torn And that you are naked and your body is mutilated, It shows that you, Gopā, can soon leave your female body And swiftly attain a male body.

“When you dream that the legs of your bed break off And the precious handle of the parasol is broken, It shows that you, Gopā, shall quickly cross the four rivers And see me as the single parasol bearer in the triple universe.

“When you dream that your jewelry is carried off by water And my clothes and crown are left behind on my throne, It shows that you, Gopā, shall quickly see me adorned with signs And receiving the praise of the entire world.

“When you dream that billions of lights Leave the city and plunge it into darkness, It shows, Gopā, that soon I will illuminate with the light of knowledge The entire world, which is plagued by delusion and the darkness of ignorance.

“When you dream that your pearl necklace breaks And your beautiful golden chain is broken, It shows that you, Gopā, shall quickly cut the web of affliction And remove your chain of conceptual perception.

“Gopā, since you pay homage to me And always make offerings with the highest respect, You shall never go to the lower realms or meet with suffering. Soon you shall have happiness and fortune.

“In the past I made abundant offerings; I guarded my discipline and always trained in forbearance. Therefore whoever has faith in me Shall find happiness and fortune.

“For a limitless number of millions of eons in cyclic existence, I have trained in the perfect path to awakening. Therefore whoever has faith in me Shall eliminate the three lower realms.

“So be happy and do not be depressed! Be fulfilled and joyful! Soon you shall attain happiness and fortune. Gopā, with such good omens, lay down and sleep.”

Those who are nourished by the splendor of merit and have merit in their heart Will see in their dreams splendorous signs, Which occur to supreme beings, who have accumulated virtuous karma, At the time of their departure from home.

Such a being dreams that the waters in the four great oceans Are stirred with the strokes of his hands and feet. The entire earth becomes his bed, And the king of mountains is his pillow.

He sees in his dream a light shining forth That clears away the deep darkness of the world. A parasol emerges from the ground and covers the entire three worlds; Touched by this radiance, the misery of those who suffer disappears.

In his dream four white-and-black animals lick his feet, Birds of four colors change into one color. He climbs an abhorrent and revolting mountain of excrement, Yet he succeeds and remains free from stains.

In his dream he further sees rivers overflowing And many billions of beings swept away. Building a boat he frees himself and can save others; He takes them to the best of shores, the one that is free from fear and suffering.

He further sees many beings struck with illness; Their health and splendor is gone, and their strength is weak. He becomes a doctor and dispenses many medicines, Curing billions of beings of their many diseases.

He sits on a lion throne on the central mountain; His students join their palms, and the gods all venerate him. He sees himself victorious in the midst of a battle, With the immortals in the sky cheering him in joyous voices.

Such signs did the Bodhisattva see in his dreams, And he saw the fulfillment of his virtuous and excellent conduct. The gods and humans who heard this were delighted and thought, “Soon he shall become the god of humans and gods!”