大方便佛報恩經 5

English (machine translation) 5

Language: English

5.1

The translator's name is lost; recorded in the Later Han Catalogue.

At that time, the Bhagavat was surrounded by the great assembly, who made offerings, revered, respected, and praised him. Thereupon the Tathāgata moved in immeasurable, extremely profound spheres of conduct, wishing to uproot the intense suffering of sentient beings in the three realms of existence; wishing to dispel the five hindrances and untie the ten fetters; wishing to cause all sentient beings to attain liberation together and be established in the unconditioned. He then expounded the two kinds of puṇyakṣetras: first, the conditioned puṇyakṣetra; second, the unconditioned puṇyakṣetra. That is to say, parents and teachers, the Buddhas, the Dharma, the Saṅgha, and the bodhisattvas—all sentient beings who cultivate offerings [to them] obtain merit, and through progress can accomplish the Way.

5.4

At that time, the Bhagavat said to Śāriputra and the other great disciples of great wisdom, "You all should know: the Tathāgata before long will enter nirvāṇa." When Śāriputra heard these words, all the joints of his body ached as if pierced by needles; filled with sorrow and grief, he fainted and collapsed to the ground, reviving only after a long time when cold water was sprinkled on his face. He then arose, joined his palms, and praised the Buddha with verses:

5.5

"The Buddha is like amṛta;
One never tires of hearing him.
If the Buddha were to be indolent,
There would be no benefit to anyone.
The sea of birth and death in the five destinies
Is like falling into filthy mud;
Because one is entangled by craving and desire,
Being without wisdom, one is deluded by the world.
In past lives he practiced uprightness,
Giving with impartiality;
Therefore the mark between his eyebrows
Illuminates without limit.
His eyes are like the early moon,
Clearly seeing the lands of the ten directions,
Able to cause people's minds and eyes—
All who see him—to be filled with great joy."

5.6

At that time, after Śāriputra had praised the Tathāgata with hundreds of thousands of such verses, he bowed his head to the Buddha's feet, circumambulated him hundreds of thousands of times, and said to the great assembly, the devas, nāgas, ghosts and spirits, humans, and non-humans: "Good sons! The world has become an empty void—how strange! How strange! The world has become an empty void—how bitter! How bitter! The eye of the world is extinguished—how painful! How painful! The wondrous jewel Dharma bridge will now be broken and destroyed; the unexcelled Bodhi-tree will now be snapped; the wondrous jewel victory banner will now topple; the unexcelled Buddha sun sets behind the great mountain of nirvāṇa!" When the entire great assembly heard these words, their hair stood on end in shock, and they were seized with great terror. The sun lost its bright radiance, the mountains collapsed, and the earth shook violently.

5.7

At that time, Śāriputra spoke verses in the midst of the great assembly, saying:

5.8

"I see the Buddha's bodily marks,
Resembling a mountain of purple gold;
The marks and signs and manifold virtues are extinguished,
And only his name alone remains.
You should be diligent and vigorous,
To attain escape from the three realms;
Choose manifold wholesome deeds;
Nirvāṇa is the supreme peace and bliss."

5.9

When Śāriputra had consoled the great assembly with these verses, he manifested great supernormal powers: he rose into the sky and transformed himself into a thousand-headed precious elephant. The bodies of the elephants were intertwined with one another, their thousand heads facing outward. Each elephant had seven tusks; upon each tusk were seven bathing pools; in each bathing pool were seven lotus flowers; upon each flower dais were seven transformed Buddhas; each transformed Buddha had an attendant Śāriputra; each Śāriputra emitted a great radiance that universally illuminated immeasurable worlds as numerous as the sands of the Ganges in the ten directions, summoning those with affinity from afar. When those with affinity had assembled, Śāriputra manifested a great body filling the sky, and from being large he manifested as small; he entered the earth as if it were water, emerging without gaps and entering without openings; or fire issued from the lower part of his body and water issued from the upper part, leaping and disappearing in the sky; or he became a thousand, a hundred, even countless. Having manifested various supernormal transformations, he descended from the sky, went into the midst of the great assembly, and broadly preached the Dharma for them, instructing, guiding, benefiting, and gladdening them, causing immeasurable hundreds of thousands of sentient beings to give rise to the aspiration for anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi. Furthermore, immeasurable hundreds of thousands of sentient beings attained the path of srotāpanna up to the fruit of arhatship; furthermore, immeasurable hundreds of thousands of people gave rise to the aspiration of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas.

5.10

When Śāriputra had performed such boundless benefits, he addressed the great assembly, saying: “With what heart could I now watch the Tathāgata enter parinirvāṇa?” Having made this proclamation, he straightaway ascended into the sky; fire came forth from his body, and, burning his own body, he entered nirvāṇa. At that time the great assembly yearned for Śāriputra, not looking away for an instant; longing and yearning arose in their hearts, and raising their voices they wept aloud, throwing dust and dirt over their bodies. The sun lost its bright light, and heaven and earth shook violently. Then the great assembly gathered his relics and erected a stūpa to make offerings to them. At that time boundless hundreds of thousands among the great assembly circumambulated the stūpa; because they were mindful of Śāriputra, suffering and distress arose in their hearts, and wandering about wildly, they lost their right mindfulness.

5.11

At that time the Tathāgata, by the power of his benevolence and compassion, magically created a Śāriputra amidst the great assembly. When the great assembly saw Śāriputra, joy arose in their hearts, and their sorrow and suffering were immediately dispelled. On account of this joyful heart, they all resolved their minds upon anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi. Then Ānanda, through the Tathāgata’s supernatural power, observed that all the minds of the assembly harboured doubts. He at once rose from his seat, straightened his robes, bared his right shoulder, placed his right knee upon the ground, joined his palms, knelt upright, and addressed the Buddha, saying: “Bhagavat! By what causes and conditions did Śāriputra enter extinction before the Tathāgata, causing the great assembly to experience such sorrow and suffering?”

5.12

The Buddha told Ānanda and the great assembly: “Śāriputra has not only today entered extinction before the Tathāgata. In past lifetimes he was also unable to bear seeing me [die], and entered extinction first.”

5.13

Ānanda addressed the Buddha, saying: “Bhagavat! In past lifetimes, how was it that Śāriputra entered extinction first?”

5.14

The Buddha said: “Listen well! Long ago, countless asaṃkhyeya kalpas in the past, there was a kingdom named Vārāṇasī. The king of that Vārāṇasī was named Mahāprabhāsa (Great Radiance). King Mahāprabhāsa ruled over sixty lesser realms and eight hundred settlements. That king constantly harboured a benevolent heart, giving generously to all and never going against anyone’s wishes. At that time there was the king of a petty border realm who constantly harboured evil and defiance. At that time King Mahāprabhāsa, on every fasting day of every month, would use five hundred great elephants to carry precious jewels, money and wealth, clothing, bedding, and food and drink, placing them in the great market and outside the four city gates to give generously to all. When hostile enemy states heard that King Mahāprabhāsa gave generously to all without thwarting anyone’s wishes, whoever needed clothing, food and drink, gold, silver, or precious jewels would take them at will and depart.

5.15

“At that time the petty king of the border realm heard of King Mahāprabhāsa’s virtue of generosity and grew jealous in his heart. He immediately gathered his ministers: ‘Who can go to that kingdom of Vārāṇasī and beg for King Mahāprabhāsa’s head?’ None of the ministers was able to go. The king issued a proclamation again: ‘Who can go to that kingdom of Vārāṇasī and beg for King Mahāprabhāsa’s head? If anyone can go, I shall reward him with a thousand catties of gold.’ Among them was a brāhmaṇa who said: ‘I can go and beg for it; just supply me with provisions.’ This country was over six thousand li from Vārāṇasī. The king at once supplied him with provisions and sent him off to the kingdom of Vārāṇasī. When the brāhmaṇa arrived at the border of the kingdom of Vārāṇasī, the earth shook in six ways, startling the birds and beasts so that they fled in all directions. The sunlight was obscured, and the moon lost its bright radiance; the five planets and the lunar mansions departed from their regular courses; red, black, and white rainbows appeared constantly day and night; shooting stars fell; and within that kingdom, the running springs, bathing ponds, and lush flowers and fruits that were ever loved and enjoyed all withered and dried up. The brāhmaṇa then arrived at the city of Vārāṇasī and stood outside the gate. At that time the gate-guarding deity said to the gatekeeper: ‘This wicked brāhmaṇa has come from afar wishing to beg for King Mahāprabhāsa’s head. Do not let him enter.’ The brāhmaṇa remained outside the gate and was delayed for seven days without being able to go forward. He said to the gatekeeper: ‘I have come from afar and wish to see the great king.’ The gatekeeper then went in and addressed the king: ‘There is a brāhmaṇa who has come from afar and is now outside the gate.’ Hearing these words, the king went out to welcome him, just as a son greets his father, stepped forward, and bowed, saying: ‘Where have you come from? Venturing forth on such a journey, are you not exhausted?’ The brāhmaṇa said: ‘In another land I heard of the king’s meritorious virtue, that in your giving you do not thwart anyone’s wishes; your renown is heard from afar, reaching up to the blue heavens and down to the Yellow Springs; near and far sing your praises, and it is truly no falsehood. Therefore I have come from afar, traversing mountains and rivers. Now I wish to receive something.’ The king said: ‘I am now famed for giving all things; whatever you seek, do not hesitate or doubt.’ The brāhmaṇa said: ‘Is it truly so or not? I have no use for other things; now, desiring a great sacrifice, I beg for the king’s head.’ When the king heard this, he thought deeply to himself: ‘From beginningless saṃsāra until now, I have thrown away this body in vain, never having done so for the sake of the Dharma; suffering saṃsāra to no purpose, I have wearied my spirit. Now this body is deeply desired for the sake of my vows to seek bodhi and save sentient beings. If I do not give it now, it will go against my original intention. If I do not give this body in charity, by what cause shall I ever attain anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi?’ The king said: ‘Excellent! Wait until I inspect matters briefly and entrust the royal throne, my consorts, and the crown prince. After seven days have passed, I shall give it to you.’

5.16

“At that time the great king went into the palace and announced to his consorts: ‘All affection and love in the world must end in separation; what is born must die, and what succeeds must fail; things sprout in spring and naturally wither in autumn and winter.’ When the consorts and the crown prince heard these words, it was as if someone were choking, unable to swallow and unable to vomit: ‘Great King! Now, for what reason do you speak such words?’ The king said: ‘A brāhmaṇa has come from afar wishing to beg for my head. I have already promised it to him.’ When the consorts and the crown prince heard these words, they threw their bodies to the ground, wailed aloud, tore out their hair, tore their clothing to shreds, and spoke thus: ‘Great King! Nothing under heaven is more precious than one’s own body; why today do you give up what is difficult to give up and offer it to another?’ Then five hundred ministers said to the brāhmaṇa: ‘What use do you have for this foul, rotting head of pus and blood?’ The brāhmaṇa said: ‘I am begging for my own purpose; why do you question me?’ The ministers said: ‘You have entered our country; we ought to question you, and you ought to answer us.’ The brāhmaṇa, just as he was about to answer truthfully, felt terror in his heart, fearing that the ministers would cut off his life. Then the five hundred ministers said to the brāhmaṇa: ‘Do not be afraid. We now grant you fearlessness for the sake of the great king. Poor brāhmaṇa, what urgent need have you for this head of pus and blood? Each of us five hundred shall make a head of the seven treasures, exchange them with you, and also give you what you need, so that for seven lifetimes you will lack for nothing.’ The brāhmaṇa said: ‘I have no use for them.’ When the ministers did not obtain what they wished, anguish arose in their hearts, and weeping bitterly aloud, they addressed the great king: ‘Great King! How can you bear to cast away this land, the people, the consorts, and the crown prince, and forever abandon and turn your back on us for the sake of a single brāhmaṇa?’ The king said: ‘It is now for your sake and for the sake of all sentient beings that I give my body in charity.’ When the prime minister heard that the king was resolved and determined to give his body to the brāhmaṇa, he thought to himself: ‘How could I bear to see the great king cast away his body and life?’ Having thought this, he went into a quiet room and took his own life with a knife.

5.17

“Then the great king went into the back garden and summoned the brāhmaṇa: ‘You have come from afar to beg for my head. Because I pity you with a benevolent heart, I will not thwart your wish. May it cause me in future lifetimes to attain the head of wisdom and bestow it upon you all.’ Having spoken these words, he arose, joined his palms, bowed to the ten directions, and spoke thus: ‘May the Buddhas of the ten directions take pity and show compassion, and may the powerful supernatural power of the venerable bodhisattvas protect and assist me, so that this deed of mine must certainly be accomplished.’ He said to the brāhmaṇa: ‘Take it as you will.’ The brāhmaṇa said: ‘The king has the strength of a strongman. At the moment of pain, you might change your mind and regret it, being unable to bear the suffering, or you might turn around and harm me. If the king can truly do this, why not tie your hair to a tree branch?’ Hearing these words, the king felt compassion in his heart: ‘This brāhmaṇa is both timid and frail. If he should be unable to cut off my head, he will lose a great benefit.’ He at once followed his words, tied his own hair to the tree, and said to the brāhmaṇa: ‘When you have cut off my head, place it back into my hands. I shall hand it to you with my own hands.’ The brāhmaṇa grasped the knife with his own hand and approached the tree. At that moment the tree deity struck the brāhmaṇa’s head with its hand, so that he fell to the ground in a swoon.

5.18

“At that time King Mahāprabhāsa said to the tree deity: ‘Instead of helping me, you create obstacles to wholesome phenomena.’ When the tree deity heard these words, anguish arose in its heart, and it cried out: ‘How strange! How bitter!’ In the cloudless sky, blood rained down; heaven and earth shook violently, and the sun lost its bright light. The brāhmaṇa then cut off the king’s head and took it back to his own country. Then the five hundred princes and the various ministers gathered the remaining bones of King Mahāprabhāsa and erected a stūpa to make offerings to them.”

5.19

The Buddha told Ānanda: “The prime minister at that time who could not bear to hear of King Mahāprabhāsa giving his head in charity and forthwith abandoned his own life was none other than Śāriputra today; King Mahāprabhāsa at that time was none other than myself, the Tathāgata Śākyamuni. It was because the Bodhisattva practised austerities in this way, vowing to remember the kindness of the Buddhas for the sake of sentient beings, that he transcended [all stages] and attained anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi. For this reason, when Śāriputra heard that the Tathāgata wished to enter nirvāṇa, his eyes could not bear to see it, and he entered extinction first, no different from how it was originally. In past lifetimes he could not bear to see me cast away my body and life. In this back garden, under this single tree, I have given away the head of a cakravartin king a full thousand times, not to speak of other body parts, trunk, hands, and feet!”

5.20

When this narrative of the causes and conditions of austerities was spoken, boundless hundreds of thousands of sentient beings resolved their minds upon anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi; boundless hundreds of thousands of people attained the path of a srotāpanna up to the fruit of an arhat; and boundless hundreds of thousands of people resolved their minds upon the paths of śrāvakas and pratyekabuddhas. The entire great assembly—all the devas, nāgas, ghosts, spirits, humans, and non-humans—rejoiced at hearing the Buddha preach the Dharma and departed.

5.21

Furthermore, in the kingdom of Magadha there was a gang of five hundred bandits who constantly blocked the roads, robbed people, harmed the innocent, and cut off the king’s highways.

5.22

At that time the king of Magadha raised the fourfold army, went to arrest them, and transported them to a steep and precipitous place deep in the mountains. He then took each bandit, gouged out both his eyes, and cut off his ears and nose. At that time the bodies of the five hundred bandits were racked with pain, and their lives hung by a single breath. Among the five hundred men, there was one who was a disciple of the Buddha; he said to the company: “Our lives are now not long for this world; why do we not wholeheartedly take refuge in the Buddha?”

5.23

At that time, the five hundred men thereupon raised their voices together and called out these words: "Namo Śākyamuni Buddha!" At that time, the Tathāgata was on Gṛdhrakūṭa Mountain. Through the power of his benevolence and compassion, upon Mount Yugandhara a great wind arose, shaking the groves and raising sandalwood dust that filled the air. The wind blew straight to where the bandits were in those deep mountains, sprinkling their eyes and the sores on their bodies, whereupon they were restored as before.

5.24

At that time, the bandits regained both their eyes, their bodily sores were healed, and their blood turned into milk. They all uttered these words: "We now, having received the Buddha's profound grace, have bodies at peace and ease. To repay the Buddha's kindness, we ought swiftly to generate the aspiration for anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi." Having made this proclamation, the entire assembly spoke with one voice, saying: "Those sentient beings who are not yet at ease, I shall set at ease; those sentient beings who are not yet liberated, I shall liberate; those who have not yet crossed over, I shall ferry across; those who have not yet attained the Path, I shall cause to attain nirvāṇa."

5.25

Furthermore, the supernatural power of the Tathāgata's benevolence, compassion, and upāya is inconceivable. When the Buddha was in Śrāvastī, at that time within Gṛdhra Mountain there were five hundred men dwelling, who cut off the roads and robbed people, committing all manner of unlawful deeds. The Tathāgata then, through the power of upāya, transformed himself into a man riding a great and renowned elephant, wearing armor and bearing weapons, holding a bow and arrows, and grasping a lance and spear. The great elephant he rode was fully adorned with the seven treasures; the man was also adorned with the seven treasures, and his pearl necklaces and ornaments all emitted bright light. All alone by himself, he entered the dangerous pass and proceeded to Gṛdhra Mountain. At that time, the five hundred bandits in the mountain saw this man from afar and said to one another: "We have been bandits for years, yet we have never seen the like of this!" Then the bandit chieftain asked the men: "What did you see?" The men replied: "We saw a man riding a great and renowned elephant, draped in necklaces, and the elephant's harness is made purely of the seven treasures. He emits a great light that illuminates and shakes heaven and earth. He comes along the road, and moreover is entirely alone. If we capture this man, our provisions for food and clothing will not run short for seven lifetimes." Hearing these words, the bandit chieftain rejoiced in his heart. Secretly issuing orders together, he said: "Be careful not to hack or shoot him; take him slowly!" They immediately surrounded him in front and behind and set upon him all at once. The five hundred men shouted with one voice. At that time, the transformed man, out of benevolence and compassion, took pity and sorrowed for them; he immediately drew his bow, fitted an arrow, and shot it. The five hundred men each received an arrow, and the pain of the wounds was unbearable. They instantly collapsed to the ground, writhing and wailing loudly, and got up together to pull out the arrows. The arrows were firmly stuck and could not be removed by strength. The five hundred men then harbored terror: "We today will surely die without doubt! Why is this? For this single man is difficult to resist, something never seen before." Thereupon they spoke a verse together in one voice, asking:

5.26

"What manner of man are you?
Is this the power of incantation,
Or are you a nāga, ghost, or spirit,
Who with one arrow shoots five hundred?
The bitter pain is hard to describe;
We take refuge with our bodies.
Extract the poison arrows for us;
We will follow you and not dare disobey."

5.27

At that time, the transformed man replied in verse:

5.28

"No wound from hacking surpasses evil;
No shot arrow surpasses anger.
Such strength none can pull out;
It is eliminated only through much learning."

5.29

When the transformed man had spoken this verse, he reverted to the Buddha's body and emitted a great light that illuminated the ten directions. All sentient beings who met with this light—the blind gained sight, the crippled could stretch, and the paralyzed gained the use of their limbs; those who were heterodox and confused saw the true words. In sum, all whose wishes were unfulfilled obtained what they desired.

5.30

Then the Tathāgata instructed, encouraged, benefited, and gladdened the five hundred men, preaching various teachings to them. When the five hundred men heard the Dharma, they rejoiced, their bodily sores were healed, and their blood turned back into milk. Thereupon they generated the aspiration for anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi, and spoke a verse together in one voice:

5.31

"We have already generated the mind
Broadly to benefit all sentient beings;
We should always be reverent,
Following and learning from all Buddhas.
Mindful of the Buddha's benevolent and compassionate power,
Which eradicates suffering and brings peace to body and mind,
We should be mindful of the kindness of the Buddha,
Of bodhisattvas and good friends,
Of teachers and parents,
And of all kinds of sentient beings;
Viewing enemies and kin with an equal mind,
Their gracious virtue is without distinction."

5.32

At that time, in the sky, the devas of the desire realm, Kauśika and the others, rained down various heavenly flowers and played heavenly music to make offerings to the Tathāgata, and spoke a verse with one voice:

5.33

"Through the merit of our previous lives,
Our radiance is most ornate,
With all wondrous articles of offering
To bring benefit to all.
The Bhagavat is extremely difficult to encounter,
And the wondrous Dharma is likewise difficult to hear;
Having planted many roots of virtue in the past,
We now encounter the divine one among the Śākyas.
Mindful of the Buddha's kindness,
We too should generate the resolve for the Path.
Having now attained the sight of the Buddha,
Whatever good of our three karmas we possess,
For the sake of all sentient beings,
We dedicate to the unsurpassed Path."

5.34

When the devas had spoken this verse, they circumambulated [the Buddha] hundreds of thousands of times, bowed their heads at the Buddha's feet, and flew away through the sky.

5.35

Furthermore, the power of the Tathāgata's upāya and root of benevolence is inconceivable. At that time, in the city of Vaiśālī, there was a brāhmaṇa who clung to wrong views and was attached to arrogance. Śāriputra and Mahāmaudgalyāyana went to his house to preach the Dharma and console him, but he did not believe or accept it, clinging to heterodox doctrines. His family was extremely wealthy, with limitless treasures, but the household had no son; should he suddenly die, his wealth and property would be confiscated by the state. Having reflected on this, he worshipped the spirits of mountains and trees. When ninety days had passed, his wife realized she was pregnant, and when the months were fulfilled, she gave birth to a boy. The child was handsome and endowed with human marks; his parents loved him dearly, and everyone respected him. When he reached twelve years of age, he went out with his peers to sightsee. On the road they encountered a drunken elephant running wildly and trampling about, and the boy was killed. When the parents heard of it, they wailed loudly, threw themselves to the ground, became demented, threw dust upon their bodies, and tore out their hair, saying: "How wretched our fate, to lose our treasure in life!" Rushing forward to where the boy was, they embraced the corpse and wept bitterly, fainting and reviving again. With madness arising in their minds, they walked naked, and came to behold the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata, through the power of his root of benevolence, transformed himself into their son.

5.36

The parents immediately came forward and embraced him with limitless joy; their madness was extinguished, and they regained their original minds. The Tathāgata then preached the Dharma for them. Because they heard the Dharma, they generated the aspiration for anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi.

5.37

Furthermore, the power of the Tathāgata's root of benevolence is inconceivable. At that time, King Virūḍhaka raised the fourfold army and attacked the country of Śrāvastī. Capturing the Śākyan youths, he dug pits and buried them up to their armpits so that they could not move, and a week passed. The Tathāgata then, through the power of his root of benevolence, transformed that ground into a bathing pool. The water of the bathing pool possessed the eight virtuous qualities, and there were wondrous fragrant flowers—namely padma flowers and puṇḍarīka flowers, blue, yellow, red, and white, as large as chariot wheels, filling it. Flocks of various birds sang in plaintive harmony. When the Śākyan youths saw this, joy arose in their hearts, and they immediately generated the aspiration for anuttarasamyaksaṃbodhi. After they generated the bodhimind, King Virūḍhaka gave alcohol to five hundred black elephants, making them completely drunk and maddened, fitted their feet with iron armor, and bound sharp swords to their trunks. He then sounded the dread war drums and released the herd of elephants to trample the Śākyan youths. The joints of their limbs, their flesh and bones were crushed to pieces and scattered in disarray upon the ground. Because of the power of the Tathāgata's benevolence and compassion, their bodies and minds were at peace and ease; because their bodies and minds were at peace and ease, they generated the bodhimind; because they generated the bodhimind, they attained an equal mind toward all sentient beings; because their minds were equal, they did not give rise to anger; because their minds did not harbor anger, upon dying they were born in heaven. Having been born in heaven, they used their divine eye to look back upon their original karmic causes, and immediately said to one another: "We have received the Buddha's benevolent grace and been born in heaven. Our seven-jeweled palaces, famous and exquisite garments, the radiance of our bodies, delicate music, and all instruments of pleasure are entirely the supernatural power of the Tathāgata. Therefore, we should generate great compassion to benefit sentient beings. Wherever the Buddha's Dharma is propagated—be it in cities, towns, villages, mountain forests, under trees, in palaces, or in houses—wherever there are those who recite, copy, or explain its meaning, wherever it spreads, we shall provide for them as they desire, so that they lack nothing; if there be warfare, epidemics, or famine, we shall protect them day and night, our minds never abandoning them." When the devas had made this vow, the color and strength of their bodily life and their radiant splendor became twofold greater than usual, and leaping with joy, they flew away through the sky.

5.38

Furthermore, the power of the Tathāgata's upāya and root of benevolence is inconceivable. At that time, King Virūḍhaka attacked the country of Śrāvastī, and after destroying and harming the Śākya clan, he selected the Śākyan women, choosing five hundred who were beautiful, surpassing in talent, and skilled in countless arts. Surrounded before and behind, with musicians performing, he returned to his own country. With his queen and palace women, he ascended the main hall, sat cross-legged, and announced to the great assembly: "I am joyful today, praising goodness without measure." Then the Śākyan women asked King Virūḍhaka: "Why are you joyful today?" He answered: "I have conquered my enemies." The Śākyan women said: "You have not conquered. Even if your country's entire fourfold army were assembled, it could not match a single one of our Śākyas. Yet because our Śākya clan are disciples of the Buddha, we do not contend with living beings, which is what allowed you to win. If we had raised malice—you raised troops three or four times against Śrāvastī, yet you always retreated. When you first came, our Śākya clan said: 'This King Virūḍhaka does not recognize kindness and instead gives rise to wicked rebellion. If we fight with them, the wise and the foolish will not be distinguished, and black and white will not be clear. We should now terrify them and cause them to disperse in retreat.' They then made a pact: 'Now, let all shoot together, but let no arrow cause injury.' They then raised the fourfold army to go meet Virūḍhaka. Forty li away, they drew their bows and shot at them, arrow after arrow in succession, nock touching nock. When King Virūḍhaka saw this, he became terrified and retreated home. After ninety days, he again raised the fourfold army to attack the Śākya clan. Then the Śākyas again conferred together: 'Virūḍhaka is an evil man who knows no shame; he has come again wishing to harm us.' The Śākyas then made another covenant: 'Today, let all shoot at their armor together, and let no one be harmed.' The Śākyas shot together, causing the armor worn by all the men to be shattered piece by piece, leaving them standing naked. At that time, King Virūḍhaka was terrified; he assembled all his ministers and conferred with them: 'I fear we shall not escape whole today.' Among them, the prime minister addressed the great king: 'These Śākyas are all disciples of the Buddha; they uphold the precept against killing and cultivate benevolence and compassion. Were it not so, our lives would have perished long ago.' The king said: 'If it is truly so, we may advance further.'"

5.39

"At that time, the Śākyas stood with hands folded in their sleeves, and Virūḍhaka's cavalry subsequently drew close. Among the Śākya clan, there was a brāhmaṇa who said to the Śākya youths: 'Now that calamity has arrived, why do you stand so gravely?' The Śākyas answered, saying: 'We now do not contend with living beings. If we contend with them, we are not disciples of the Buddha.' The brāhmaṇa then resented their words; he leapt out before the Śākyas and fought with Virūḍhaka, shooting through seven men with a single arrow. Before long, more and more were wounded and killed. Virūḍhaka's fourfold army then retreated. The Śākyas then had this thought: 'We now should not form an alliance with this evil person.' They then assembled the Śākya community and together expelled this man of brāhmaṇa lineage. Once he had been expelled, Virūḍhaka's fourfold army destroyed the state of Śrāvastī. It is through these causes and conditions that you were able to obtain victory."

5.40

King Virūḍhaka then felt shame and remorse, and summoned caṇḍālas, who immediately cut off their ears and noses, and severed their hands and feet. Having severed their hands and feet, they loaded them onto carts and abandoned them in a charnel ground. At that time, the Śākya women writhed about, no longer having hands or feet, weeping with piercing grief, racked with virulent pain, with but little life remaining. The Śākya women each called upon their fathers, mothers, brothers, and sisters, or cried out to heaven and called upon earth, in immeasurable, acute agony. Only the foremost Śākya woman among them addressed the women, saying: "Sisters! You should know that I once heard from the Buddha: 'If a single person in the midst of extreme emergency is able to bring forth a single thought of mindfulness of the Buddha, wholeheartedly taking refuge, they will immediately attain peace and have all their wishes fulfilled.'" At that time, the five hundred Śākya women with one voice wholeheartedly recollected the Buddha: "Namo Śākyamuni Tathāgata, Arhat, Samyaksaṃbuddha." They further cried out, saying: "Woe! Woe! Pain! Pain! Alas! Bhagavān, Sugata!" When they made this cry, in the midst of empty space, through the power of the Tathāgata's root of kindness, a great cloud of compassion arose and rained down a great rain of compassion, raining upon the bodies of the women. Having received this rain, their bodies, hands, and feet grew back as before. The women rejoiced and together uttered these words: "The Tathāgata is our compassionate father, the supreme Bhagavat, a wondrous medicine for the world, the eyes of the world, able to pull out suffering in the three realms and bestow happiness. Why is this? We have now attained release from suffering and calamity. We must now be mindful of the Buddha's kindness; we must be mindful of repaying his kindness." The women thought: "With what should we repay the Buddha's kindness? The Tathāgata's body is a vajra body, an eternally abiding body, a body free from hunger and thirst, a wondrously subtle physical body, completely endowed with hundreds of thousands of dhyānas, faculties, powers, the path of awakening, the inconceivable thirty-two marks and eighty minor marks; endowed with the two adornments, abiding in the great nirvāṇa; viewing sentient beings equally, like Rāhula, regarding enemies and kin alike, and not expecting repayment. We now wish to repay the Buddha's kindness; we should together go forth from household life, cultivate and maintain the monastic precepts, and protect the saddharma." Having reflected thus, they immediately sought robes and bowls, and went to the nunnery in the royal park to seek to go forth from household life.

5.41

At that time, there was a group-of-six nuns who saw that the Śākya women were youthful, beautiful, and upright: "How could they now abandon what is so hard to abandon and go forth together? We should speak to them of the joys of the five worldly desires, telling them to wait until their youth has passed and only then go forth—would that not be delightful? If they return to lay life, they will surely make an offering of their robes and bowls to us." Having reflected thus, they went before the Śākya women and spoke to them of the above matters. When the women heard this, their hearts were grieved: "How can there be such great terror in this place of peace? It is like fine food and drink mixed with poison. What this bhikṣuṇī has spoken is just like that. I already know fully that the five worldly desires have many faults and perils. Why instead praise their beauty and urge us to return to our original homes and abide in the five desires?" Having spoken these words, they raised their voices in loud weeping and came back out of the monastic quarters. At that time, there was a bhikṣuṇī named Utpalavarṇā, who asked the women: "Why are you weeping?" The women answered, saying: "Our wish has not been fulfilled." The bhikṣuṇī said: "What is your wish?" They answered, saying: "We wish to go forth, but were not granted permission." Then the bhikṣuṇī Utpalavarṇā asked, saying: "If you wish to go forth, I can deliver you." When the women heard this, joy arose in their hearts, and they immediately followed her, being delivered as her disciples. When the Śākya women were granted permission, grief and joy mingled together, and they spoke these words: "Upādhyāyikā! You should know that when we were in household life, our many sufferings were not merely one: our kin were slain, our ears and noses cut off, our hands and feet severed, and our calamities were exceedingly severe."

5.42

Then the upādhyāyikā replied to the disciples: "Why are your hardships even worth mentioning? When I was in household life, I bore many sufferings, and the events were numerous." Then the Śākya women knelt upright and addressed their teacher: "We pray you will tell of the causes and conditions of the many sufferings of your household life."

5.43

Then the bhikṣuṇī Utpalavarṇā entered samādhi and, through her supernormal power, emitted a great radiance that illuminated Jambudvīpa, summoning devas, nāgas, ghosts, spirits, humans, and non-humans who had karmic affinity. In the midst of the great assembly, she said of herself: "When I was in household life, I was a person of Śrāvastī. My parents married me to a man of the north. According to the customs of that country, when a woman is pregnant and on the verge of giving birth, she returns to her parents' home. In this way, I sequentially bore children over several years, and later became pregnant again. On the day near delivery, riding in carts and on horses, husband and wife accompanying each other, we set off for my parents' home. Midway, there was a river whose waters suddenly surged. The road was vast and deserted, with many perils from bandits. Having reached the river, we were unable to cross and lodged for the night on the riverbank. During the first watch of the night, a sudden pain seized my abdomen, and I sat up. Before long, I gave birth, delivering a baby boy. In the grass on the riverbank, there was a great venomous snake that smelled the scent of fresh blood, and it came toward me. Before it reached where I was, my husband and servant were sleeping on the path. When the snake reached the servant, it immediately bit and killed him; advancing to my husband, my husband slept unaware, and it also bit and killed him. At that time, I cried out and summoned them: 'A snake has come! A snake has come!' I called my husband, but there was no reply; my husband and servant were already dead. At that time, the venomous snake also bit the oxen and horses. When the sun had risen, my husband's body swelled, decomposed, and rotted, his joints fell apart, scattered across the ground. In grief, sorrow, and terror, I fainted and collapsed to the ground; raising my voice, I wept aloud, beating my breast with my hands; I pulled out my hair, and covered my body with dust and dirt. Soon I fainted again, casting my whole body onto the bones. Living in such grief and suffering for several days, alone on the riverbank, the water gradually receded. Carrying the young child and holding him with my hand, and placing the newborn in my skirt, holding it in my mouth, I stepped forward into the water. Right in the middle of the river, I looked back at the older boy and saw a fierce tiger running and chasing after him. As I opened my mouth to cry out, the skirt dropped from my mouth, and the infant sank into the water. I reached out with my hand to grope for him, but in the end did not find him; the child upon my back slipped from my grasp, fell into the water, and soon also sank and was lost; the child on the bank was eaten by the tiger. Seeing this, my heart and liver were torn apart; I spat hot blood and raised my voice in loud weeping: 'Alas! Alas! That I should suddenly suffer this harsh calamity in a single day!' I reached the riverbank, fainted, and collapsed to the ground.

5.44

"Before long, a large caravan arrived. At that time, among the caravan was an elder who was an old acquaintance of my parents. I went forward to ask for news of my parents. The elder then replied to me, saying: 'Last night a fire broke out in your parents' house; everything was burned away, and your parents also perished.' Hearing this, I fainted and collapsed to the ground, reviving only after a long while. Before long, a band of five hundred bandits broke up the caravan. At that time, the bandit chieftain took me away. The custom for the bandit chieftain's wife was always to guard the gate: if there was an emergency and they were pursued by others, she had to open the gate quickly. Later, on one occasion, the husband went out with the band of bandits to plunder and rob.

5.45

"At that time, the owners of the property, the king, and the villagers joined forces to pursue them, and he fled back to his house. At that time, his wife was inside the dwelling, in labor giving birth to a child. The husband called repeatedly outside the gate, but there was no one inside to open the gate.

5.46

"The bandit chieftain then had this thought: 'Now this woman intends to harm me.' Having reflected thus, he climbed over the wall and entered, saying to his wife: 'For what reason did you not open the gate?' The wife said: 'Because of giving birth, I could not make it in time.' Seeing this, the bandit chieftain's anger subsided a little, and he said to his wife: 'When a person is pregnant, they will have a child. Because of giving birth, you endangered me—what use is this child? Go quickly and kill it.' At that time, the wife felt pity in her heart and could not bear to kill it.

5.47

"The bandit chieftain then drew his sword and hacked it, severing its hands and feet, and said to his wife: 'You eat it! If you do not eat it, I will cut off your head.' At that time, out of terror, the wife ate it. Once she had eaten it, his anger subsided.

5.48

"Afterward, her husband continued to rob and plunder, was captured by the king, and was punished for his crime. By the law for punishing bandits, he had to be put to death, and his wife buried alive along with him. At that time, my body was adorned with exquisite necklaces. Someone greedy for the necklaces opened the tomb in the late night, took my necklaces, and took me away with him. After a short time, the king's inspecting officers caught him, and judged him by the law, punishing him like a bandit. By the law for punishing bandits, he was put to death, and his wife buried alive along with him. Because the burial was not secure, during the late night many tigers and wolves dug open the tomb to eat the dead corpses. Because of this, I got out immediately. Having gotten out, confused and bewildered, not knowing east from west, I ran aimlessly. Seeing many people on the road, I asked them, saying: 'All of you, know that I am now in agony and distress. Where can I forget grief and eliminate affliction?' At that time, an elder brāhmaṇa and others, out of compassion, said to me: 'I have heard that within the Dharma of Śākyamuni Buddha, there is much peace and an absence of decline and distress.' Hearing this, joy arose in my heart, and I went to the bhikṣuṇī Mahāprajāpatī Gautamī to go forth from household life. Cultivating sequentially, I attained the fruit of the Way, the three knowledges, the six supernormal powers, and became endowed with the eight liberations. Through these causes and conditions, you should know that when I was in household life, my toils and sufferings were like this. Through these causes and conditions, I attained the Way by myself."

5.49

When the Śākya women heard these words, their hearts were filled with great joy, and they attained the purity of the Dharma eye. The listeners in the assembly each made their vows, and departed in joy.

5.50

At that time, the Buddha's maternal aunt, the bhikṣuṇī Gautamī, addressed all the bhikṣuṇīs, śikṣamāṇās, śrāmaṇerikās, upāsikās, and all women, saying: "The great benefit of the Buddha's Dharma, all its merits, and its three kinds of retribution are fully possessed only within the ocean of the Tathāgata's Buddha-Dharma. All sentient beings have a share in it, yet for all of us women, the Tathāgata did not give permission. This is because all women have many doubts and perplexities, and are attached and find it hard to let go. Because of attachment, their various fettering karmas bind them boundlessly, and delusion and craving cover their minds. Because the covering of their minds is heavy, they are submerged in the waters of craving and cannot emerge on their own. Because of their two-finger wisdom and because of their indolence and arrogance, in their present bodies they cannot adorn bodhi or attain the thirty-two marks. Within saṃsāra, they lose the superior fruition possessed by a wheel-turning sage king of gathering sentient beings with the ten virtuous dharmas, and they also lose the unsurpassed position of a Brahmā king who is able to establish the true Dharma and encourage, inspire, and beseech so that all sentient beings obtain benefit and joy. For this reason, the Tathāgata does not permit women who delight in being disciples. Māra Pāpīyān and all non-Buddhists with wrong views have, through the long night, harbored evil and crookedness, clinging to false doctrines, destroying the true Dharma, and defaming the Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha; for this reason, the Tathāgata did not permit women who delight in entering the Buddha-Dharma. For the sake of all women, I requested the Tathāgata three times, wishing to seek the Buddha-Dharma, and even up to three times he would not grant permission. At that time, when my wish was not fulfilled, I harbored grief and regret in my heart, sorrowful, sad, and distressed. I then left the Jetavana, my eyes filled with tears of sorrow.

5.51

"At that time, Ānanda asked me: 'Mother, why are you so sorrowful as this?' I then replied to the attendant Ānanda: 'Wishing to seek to leave household life and cultivate the Buddha-Dharma, I requested the Tathāgata three times, but the Tathāgata would not grant permission. For this reason, I am sorrowful, that is all.' At that time, Ānanda replied to me, saying: 'Mother, do not sorrow. I shall beseech the Tathāgata to allow you, Mother, to enter the Buddha-Dharma.' Having heard these words, Gautamī was filled with great joy.

5.52

"At that time, Ānanda entered and said to the Buddha: 'Bhagavat! I now wish to make one request of the Buddha.' The Buddha said: 'I permit you to speak it.' Ānanda said to the Buddha: 'The venerable lady Gautamī nursed and reared the Tathāgata's physical body. Up to his attaining buddhahood now, it was established by relying on this lady. She has a great share of kindness toward the Tathāgata. The Tathāgata still permits all sentient beings to enter into the Buddha-Dharma; how much more so this lady—could she not be granted permission?'

5.53

"The Buddha told Ānanda: 'It is as you have said. It is not that the Tathāgata does not know the great kindness this lady has toward the Tathāgata; he simply does not delight in having women enter into the Buddha-Dharma. If the Tathāgata permits women to enter into the Buddha-Dharma, the saddharma will gradually decline and diminish by five hundred years. For this reason, the Tathāgata does not delight or rejoice in permitting women to enter into the Buddha-Dharma.' At that time, Ānanda prostrated himself touching the Buddha's feet with his head and face, knelt upright with palms joined, and said to the Buddha again: 'Bhagavat! Ānanda reflects that the Buddhas of the past were fully endowed with the fourfold assembly; could our Śākya Tathāgata alone not be fully endowed?' The Buddha told Ānanda: 'If Gautamī loves and delights in the Buddha-Dharma, arouses great vigor, and purely cultivates and practices the eight dharmas of respect, she is permitted to enter the Buddha-Dharma.' Ānanda immediately prostrated himself with head and face at the Buddha's feet, circumambulated him three times to the right, and then went outside, saying to the lady: 'Ānanda has already entreatingly requested the Tathāgata and succeeded in having you, Mother, uphold the Buddha-Dharma.' Having heard these words, Gautamī was filled with great joy and said to Ānanda: 'Excellent, Ānanda! That you were able to earnestly entreat and request the Tathāgata, and succeed in having me, this woman, fulfill my original vow!'

5.54

"Ānanda fully proclaimed the Tathāgata's earnest instruction. Having heard it, the lady had sorrow and joy intermingled: 'My body is an impermanent body, yet today I am finally able to exchange it for a precious body; my life is presently decaying and perishing from thought to thought, constantly changing and unfixed, yet only today do I exchange it for a precious life; the body, life, and wealth that I possess are shared among many conditions and have no true master, yet today I am finally able to exchange them for precious wealth.' Because I contemplated such benefits of merit, I deeply gave rise to thoughts of reverence and making offerings toward Ānanda. I said: 'Venerable Ānanda! May you have no concern! The Tathāgata's secret teaching shall be practiced completely; even if I should lose body and life, I shall never backslide from it.' The Tathāgata then proclaimed the subtle eight dharmas of respect, which are difficult to transgress.

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大方便佛報恩經 — Classical Chinese