It predicted that Pagan would crumble to dust once the last stone had been laid. Perhaps that warning propelled the construction efforts. I cannot tell. But it is difficult for me to understand a society so dedicated to the seemingly endless repetition of holy symbols. Even the overwhelming prominence of Buddhism in the daily life of modern Myanmar people fails to offer adequate insight into the city’s timeworn majesty.

A third folktale appears to comment on the eventual loss of the era of ancient wisdom and the greedy plunder that would one day bring the city down. It tells of an astrologer who read the fortune of his newborn son. The horoscope indicated that the boy would one day cut off his father’s tongue. Alarmed, the mystic decided to banish the child. The baby was placed in a large pot and cast into the Irrawaddy. The astrologer assumed that the pot would eventually be carried out to sea and the child lost forever. Of course, this did not happen. The pot was carried downriver into lower Burma, where it was recovered by an old woman who decided to raise the boy as her own. The boy grew up with no ideas as to his origins. When he reached manhood, he decided to seek his fate. He joined a group of traveling merchants and followed them to a far-off city where he enrolled in a university, choosing to study astrology.

When his studies were complete, the young man returned home but found that his mother had passed away. He moved north to Pagan, the greatest city of its time, and began to practice his craft as a fortune-teller. His skills were so great that he became known as Master Correct and was widely admired. Some, however, grew jealous of him, including the king’s astrologer. This astrologer, of course, was his father, the man who had cast him into the river many years before.

Now, the king intended to build a new monastery, and he commissioned his astrologer to locate a suitable place to lay the cornerstone. The astrologer consulted his ancient books and predicted that a fish would fall from the sky, landing on the very spot where the stone should be laid. When he indicated the place where it was to happen, however, a dissenting voice sounded. Realizing that the interruption had come from the upstart fortune-teller, the royal astrologer became angry. “Not there,” the young man said. He pointed to a spot just a few feet away: “The fish will fall here.”

The senior man was furious. He harangued the young seer as an interfering usurper with a loose tongue that should be cut out. But Master Correct would not withdraw his comments. Instead he offered a wager: the one whose prediction came true should cut out the tongue of the loser. Challenged before the king and his court, the royal astrologer angrily agreed.