Once on a time when Brahmadatta was reigning in Benares, the Bodhisatta came to life as a thoroughbred Sindh horse and was made the king’s destrier, surrounded by all pomp and state. He was fed on exquisite three-year old rice, which was always served up to him in a golden dish worth a hundred thousand pieces of money; and the ground of his stall was perfumed with the four odours. Round his stall were hung crimson curtains, while overhead was a canopy studded with stars of gold. On the walls were festooned wreaths and garlands of fragrant flowers; and a lamp fed with scented oil was always burning there.
Now all the kings round coveted the kingdom of Benares. Once seven kings encompassed Benares, and sent a missive to the king, saying, “Either yield up your kingdom to us or give battle.” Assembling his ministers, the king of Benares laid the matter before them, and asked them what he was to do. Said they, “You ought not to go out to do battle in person, sire, in the first instance.  Despatch such and such a knight out first to fight them; and later on, if he fails, we will decide what to do.”
Then the king sent for that knight and said to him, “Can you fight the seven kings, my dear knight?” Said he, “Give me but your noble destrier, and then I could fight not seven kings only, but all the kings in India.” “My dear knight, take my destrier or any other horse you please, and do battle.” “Very good, my sovereign lord,” said the knight; and with a bow he passed down form the upper chambers of the palace. Then he had the noble destrier led out and sheathed in mail, arming himself too cap-a-pie, and girding on his word. Mounted on his noble steed he passed out of the city- gate, and with a lightning charge broke down the first camp, taking one king alive and bringing him back a prisoner to the soldiers’ custody. Returning to the field, he broke down the second and the third camps, and so on until he captured alive five kings. The sixth camp he had just broken down, and had captured the sixth king, when his destrier received a wound, which streamed with blood and caused the noble animal sharp pain. Perceiving that the horse was wounded, the knight made it lie down at the king’s gate, loosened its mail, and set about arming another horse. As the Bodhisatta lay at full length on his side, he opened his eyes, and gathered what the knight was doing. “My rider,” thought he to himself, “is arming another horse. That other horse will never be able to break down the seventh camp and capture the seventh king; he will lose all that I have accomplished. This peerless knight will be slain; and the king, too, will fall into the hands of the foe. I alone, and no other horse, can break down that seventh camp and capture the seventh king.” So, as he lay there, he called to the knight, and said, “Sir knight, there is no horse but I who can break down the seventh camp and capture the seventh king. I will not throw away what I have already done; only have me set upon my feet and clad again in my armour.” And so saying, he repeated this stanza:- 
Though prostrate now, and pierced with darts, I lie,
Yet still no hack can match the destrier.
So harness none but me, O charioteer.