Your eyes are clear, your face is fair, you’re formidable, upright, majestic. In the midst of the Saṅgha of ascetics, you dazzle like the sun. You’re a mendicant fine to see, with skin that shines like lustrous gold. But with such excellent appearance, what do you want with the ascetic life? You’re fit to be a king, a wheel-turning monarch, chief of charioteers, victorious in the four quarters, lord of the Black Plum Tree Land. Aristocrats, nobles, and kings ought follow your rule. Gotama, may you reign as king of kings, lord of mankind!”

“I am a king, Sela, the supreme king of the teaching. By the teaching I roll forth the wheel which cannot be rolled back.”

“You claim to be awakened, the supreme king of the teaching. ‘I roll forth the teaching’: so you say, Gotama. Then who is your general, the disciple who follows the Teacher’s way? Who keeps rolling the wheel of the teaching you rolled forth?”

“By me the wheel was rolled forth,” said the Buddha, “the supreme wheel of the teaching. Sāriputta, taking after the Realized One, keeps it rolling on. I have known what should be known, and developed what should be developed, and given up what should be given up: and so, brahmin, I am a Buddha. Dispel your doubt in me—make up your mind, brahmin! The sight of a Buddha is hard to find again.