The Tathagata is made to declare in one of the dialogues:
'I was delicate, O monks, extremely delicate. In my father's dwelling lotus-pools had been made, in one blue lotuses, in another red, in another white, all for my sake.
I had three palaces, one for cold season, one for the hot, and one for the season of rains. Through the four rainy months, in the palace for the rainy season, entertained by female ministrels I did not come down from the palace.
Thenm O monks, did I, endowed with such majesty and such excessive delicacy, think thus: "An ignorant, ordinary person, who is himself subject to old age, not beyond the sphere of old age, on seeing an old man is troubled, ashamed and disgusted, extending the thought to himself. I too am subject to old age.
Asvaghosha's description of Gautama's encounter with a corpse:
Prince spoke to the charioteer "Who is this borne by four men, followed by mournful companions
Charioteer replied to him, "This is the final end of all living creatures; be it a mean man, a man of middle state, or a noble, destruction is fixed to all in this world."
Prince said, "Is this end appointed to all creatures, and yet the world throws off all fear and is infatuated! Hard indeed, I think must the hearts of men be, who can be self-composed in such a road.
Therefore, O charioteer, turn back our chariot, this is no time or place for a pleasure-excursion.
In his 29th year, soon after the birth of his son Rahula although Gautama must have been contemplating renunciation.
Gautama had gone for a walk by the riverside when the child was born. Gautama's father immediately sent a messenger to convey to him the glad tidings that his wife had at last borne him a son and heir. But to the surprise of every one present Gautama did not go into transports of delight. 'A son is born', he commented gloomily, 'a bond is born'. Dissolate, his head bowed with the burden of this new responsibility, he returned home.
Meanwhile the news had been broadcast throughout the town of Kapilavastu, and the inhabitants were busy celebrating the birth of a grandson to their First Citizen.
A certain maiden named Kisa Gotami broke out into loud song in his praise. 'Happy indeed is the mother, happy indeed is the father, happy indeed is the wife, who has such a husband'. Gautama heard her song, but it was the word 'happy' which seemed to echo in his consciousness like a mocking memory and intensified his misery. He could not be sure whether his mother, his father, and his wife were happy; but he was sure that he himself was far from happy.
But doubtless there were other possibilities in life which he had yet to explore. And life was a brief candle. On this point he entertained no illusion.
He felt a sense of gratitude towards Kisa for having thus unconsciously enabled him to make up his mind; and from his neck he took a pearl necklace which he sent to her, saying: 'Let this be your fee as a teacher'
Towards the middle watch of that fateful night Gautama awoke to carry out his resolution. He saw his female musicians, who had fallen asleep round his couch.
The spectacle filled him with an intense aversion for a life delicated to the pursuit of vulgar 'sense-desires'. He woke his charioteer Channa, and asked him to get his horse Kanthaka ready for him. While Channa was gone to saddle the horse, the Bodhisattva felt a strong desire to take a last look at his wife and child. He went to her chamber,gently opened the door, and standing on the threshold for a few moments, watched in the dim light of an oil-lamp 'the mother of Rahula sleeping on her bed strewn with heaps of jessamine and other flowers...with her hand on her son's head'. He would have liked to hold the child in his arms, but he realized this might wake his wife and frustate his whole design. He descended from his house to leave the town of his birth on his horse Kanthaka.
By daybreak, he had travelled a safe distance from Kapilavastu. Then he revealedhis intentions to Channa. However, Gautama exchanged his clothes with a poor passer-by, cut off his long-hair, and asked Channa to go back to Kapilavastu with the horse, the charioteer was 'overwhelmed with grief'.
Channa made a final appeal. he begged, 'thou wilt not, master, abandon me- thy feet are my only refuge.' But Gautama would neither agree to this.
But when he told them of what had happened, they were angry. Ashvaghosha writes: 'Full of wrath, the people followed Channa in the road, crying behind him with tears, "Where is the king's son, the glory of his race and kingdom? He has been stolen away by thee."
There was a veritable panic when Channa arrived at Suddhodana's house. Gautama's wife, who seemed to realize there was no hope of her husband's return, fainted, 'like the ruddy goose parted from her mate'.
Channa, his face down and his voice dim with sobs, tried to reason with her. But a ruddy goose parted from her mate could not be expected to listen to the voice of reason. After much discussion it was decided to send the family priest and a counsellor to Bhargava's hermitage, where Channa had left his master, and to persuade the impetuous youth to change his mind. But it was a fruitless journey. Those who once set out on a quest of the kind which Gautama had undertaken do not easily turn back.
Gautama had, of his own choice, abandoned the life of householder and gone into an uninhabited forest.
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