The Life of the Buddha: The Great Renunciation.
The Bodhisatta reflected that he ought not to go forth as a Wanderer without giving notice to his father; and therefore he sought the king by night, and said: "Sire, the time is at hand for my going forth, do not hinder me, but permit me to depart." The king's eyes were charged with tears, and he answered: "What is there needful to change thy purpose? Tell me whatever thou desirest and it shall be thine, be it myself, the palace, or the kingdom." The Bodhisatta replied, "Sire, I desire four things, pray thee grant them: the first, to remain for ever in possession of the fresh colour of youth; the second, that sickness may never attack me; the third, that my life may have no term; the last, that I may not be subject to decay." When the king heard these words, he was overcome by grief, for the prince desired what it was not possible for a man to bestow. Then the Bodhisatta continued: "If then I cannot avoid old age, sickness, death and decay, grant at least this one thing, that when I leave this world I may nevermore be subject to rebirth." And when the king could give no better answer, he granted his son's desire. But the next day he established an additional guard of five hundred young men of the Sakyas at each of the four gates of the palace, while the Matron Gautami established an amazon guard within; for the king would not allow his son to depart with a free will.
At the same time the captains of the Yakhas assembled together, and they said: "Today, my friends, the Bodhisatta is to go forth; hasten to do him service." The Four Great Kings commanded the Yakkhas to bear up the feet of the prince's horse. The Thirty-three Devas likewise assembled, and Sakka ordered their services, so that one should cast a heavy sleep on all the men and women and young men and maidens of Kapilavatthu, and another should silence the noise of the elephants, horses, camels, bulls and other beasts; and others constituted themselves an escort, to cast down a rain of flowers and perfume the air. Sakka himself announced that he would open the gates and show the way.
On the morning of the day of the going forth, when the Bodhisatta was being attired, a message was brought to him that Yasodhara had borne him a son. He did not rejoice, but he said: "A bond has come into being, a hindrance for me." And the child received the name of Rahula or 'Hindrance' accordingly. The same day the Bodhisatta drove again in the city, and a certain noble virgin, by name of Kisa Gotami, stood on the roof of her palace and beheld the beauty and majesty of the future Buddha as he passed by, and she made a song:
Blessed indeed is the mother, blessed indeed the father,
Blessed indeed is the wife, whose is a lord so glorious!
On hearing this the Bodhisatta thought: "She does but say that the heart of a mother, or a father, or a wife is gladdened by such a sight. But by what can every heart attain to lasting happiness and peace?" The answer arose in his mind: "When the fire of lust is extinguished, then there is peace; and when the fires of resentment and glamour are dead, then there is peace. Sweet is the lesson this singer has taught me, for it is the Nibbana of peace that I have sought. This day I shall relinquish the household life, nothing will I seek but Nibbana itself." And taking from his neck the string of pearls he sent it as a teacher's fee to Kisa Gotami. But she thought that the prince loved her, and sent her a gift because of his love. That night the singers and the dancing-girls exerted themselves to please the prince; fair as the nymphs of heaven, they danced and sang and played. But the Bodhisatta, his heart being estranged from distraction, took no pleasure in the entertainment, and fell asleep. And the women seeing that he slept, laid aside their instruments and fell asleep likewise. And when the lamps that were fed with scented oil were on the point of dying, the Bodhisatta awoke, and he saw the girls that had seemed so fair, in all the disarray of slumber. And the king's son, seeing them thus dishevelled and disarrayed, breathing heavily, yawing and sprawling in unseemly attitudes, was moved to scorn. "Such is the true nature of women." he thought, "but a man is deceived by dress and jewels and is deluded by a woman's beauties. If a man would but consider the natural state of women and the change that comes upon them in sleep, assuredly he would not cherish his folly; but he is smitted from a right will, and so succumbs to passion." And therewith he resolved to accomplish the Great Renunciation that very night, and at that very time, for it seemed to him that every mode of existence on earth or in heaven most resembled a delay in a house already become the prey of devouring flames; and his mind was irresistibly directed towards the sate of those whohave renounced the world.
The Bodhisatta therefore rose from his couch and called for Channa; and the charioteer, who was sleeping with his head on the threshold, rose and said: "Sire, I am here." Then the bodhisatta said: "I am resolved to accomplish the Great Renunciation today; saddle my horse." And Channa went out to the stable and saddled Kanthaka; and the horse knew what was the reason of his being saddled, and neighed for joy, so that the whole city would have been aroused, had it not been that the Devas subdued the sound, so that no no one heard it. Now while Channa was away in the stable yard, the Bodhisatta thought: "I will take one look at my son." and he went to the door of Yasodhara's chamber. The Mother of Rahula was asleep on a bed strewn thick with jasmine flowers, and her hand was resting on her son's head. The Bodhisatta stopped with his foot upon the threshold, for he thought: "If I lift her hand to take up my son, she will awake, and my departure will be hindred. I will return and see him after I have attained enlightenment." Then he went forth, and seeing the horse ready saddled, he said, "Good Kanthaka, do thou save me this night, to the end that I may become a Buddha by thy help and may save the worlds of men and gods." Kanthaka neighed again, but the sound of his voice was heard by none.
So the Bodhisatta rode forth, preceded by Channa; the Yakkhas bore up the feet of Kanthaka so that they made no sound, and when they came to the guarded gates the angel standing thereby caused them to open silently. At that moment Mara the Fiend appeared in the air, and tempted the Bodhisatta, exclaiming: "Go not forth, my lord! for within seven days from this the Wheel of Sovereignty will appear, and will make you ruler of the four continents and the myriad islands. Go not forth!" The Bodhisatta replied: "Mara! well I know that this is sooth. But I do not seek the sovereignty of the world. I would become a Buddha, to make tens of thousands of worlds rejoice." And so the tempter left him, but resolved to follow him ever like a shadow, to lay hold of the occasion, if ever a thought of anger or desire should arise in the Bodhisatta's heart. It was on the full-moon day of Asadha when the prince departed from the city. His progress was accompanied by pomp and glory, for the gods and angels bore myriads of torches before and behind him, and a rain of beautiful flowers was cast down from the heaven of Indra, so that the very flanks of Kanthaka were covered. In this way the Bodhisatta advanced a great distance, until they reached and passed over the river Anoma. When they were come to the other side, the Bodhisatta alighted upon the sandy shore and said to Channa: "Good Channa, the time has come when thou must return, and take with thee all my jewels together with Kanthanka, for I am about to become a hermit and a wanderer in these forests. Grieve not for me, but mourn for those who stay behind, bound by longings of which the fruit is sorrow. It is my resolve to seek the highest good this very day, for what confidence have we in life when deat is ever at hand? And do you comfort the king, and so speak with him that he may not even remember me, for where affection is lost, there is no sorrow." But Channa protested, and prayed the Bodhisatta to take pity upon the king, and upon Yasodhara and on the city of Kapilavatthu. But again the Bodisatta answered: "Even were I to return to my kindred by reason of affection, yet we should be divided in the end by death. The meeting and parting of living things is as when the clouds having come together drift apart again, or as when the leaves are parted from the trees. There is nothing we may call our own in a union that is nothing but a dream. Therefore, since it is so, go, and grieve not, and say to the people of Kapilavatthu: 'Either he will soon return, the conqueror of age and death, or he himself will fail and perish.'" Then Channa too would have become a hermit; but the Bodhisatta answered again: "If your love is so great, yet go, deliver the message and return."
Then the Bodhisatta took the sharp sword that Channa bore and severed with it his long locks and jewelled crest and cast them into the waters; and at the moment when he felt the need of a hermit's dress, there appeared a deva in the guise of a hunter clad in the russet robes of a forest-sage and he, receiving the white muslin garments of the prince, rendered to him the dark red robes in return, and so departed.
Now Kanthaka attended to all that had been said, and he licked the Bodhisatta's feet; and the prince spoke to him as to a friend, and said: "Grieve not, O Kanthaka, for thy perfect equine nature has been proved bear with it, and soon thy pain shall bear its fruit." But Kanthaka, thinking: "From this day forth I shall never see my master anymore," went out of their sight, and there died of a broken heart and was reborn in the Heaven of the Thirty-three. Then Channa's grief was doubled; and torn by the second sorrow of the death of Kanthaka, he returned to the city weeping and wailing, and the Bodhisatta was left alone.