大毘盧遮那成佛經疏 18.9

18.9

次不瞋戒。祕密主！菩薩持不瞋戒。復次祕密主！菩薩應持不瞋戒，彼遍一切常當安忍，不著瞋喜其心平等，彼如友等怨而轉。何以故？菩薩不應憶念惡意，謂功德在身，名三摩耶縛揭多。律中大德存念，意亦同也。所以者何？以菩薩本性淨故。上本性是性得戒。下云心者，謂從心所變現之法，於本性中常清淨故，是故菩薩應持不瞋戒。彼一切遍忍多，常喜瞋不著，平等等心。彼如友等怨轉。何以故？非菩薩此意惡具。以是故，菩薩本性清淨心。是故祕密主！持不瞋戒。此第九也。瞋謂於一切眾生起於害心，不饒益行從心而起。所以持此者，若菩薩有人來，種種加害乃至斷截支分，尚不生害彼之心，而況輕於此耶？若不爾者，非菩薩也。應遍一切處而行大忍，若他種種加害時，應自念：「我先世無明因緣，生此有患之身。又無量世來常惱他故，今則業熟而受斯報，何預前人而怨咎之？」如是種種正觀。又念此身從緣而生，無有自性、無有我人，誰害誰受？以此觀於實相，而不生害彼之心。此是瞋忿之念，即是眾惡之具也。以能如是歡喜故，心常歡悅善寂慈忍，不著我人諸法而常平等。此平等者即是怨親不二，有益無益輕重之類一切平等心無增減，而不生心造諸惡具，常行饒益利他之行，等觀世間猶如一子故。以此菩薩正觀實相，照了此心本性清淨故。如經說：過去南方有王名曰師子，城名豐樂，正法理國不害於人。然以王國法故，出城校獵示現威武。雖無害人之意，為護國土安萬人故，欲令隣國懷德畏威也。時王挍獵，見有奔鹿而自馳逐，絕山履險要令及之。以無害心故，既及，但鞭其角尋即捨放。何以故？欲示武藝威萬人故。既入深山無人之地，侍從不逮，乏息山中。有母師子，見王形貌異人而生欲心，因來逼之示現欲相，王畏彼故尋即和合。時劫初獸等亦解人言。然女物之性，若有慧者，受胎之時則能了知，因告王言：「我已懷王之胤。後有若誕生，當云何也？」王以手所持印，留遺之言：「若生子，可繫此，置我門側。」後既生兒，體貌類人而甚猛毅，以兼獸性故也。其母如先約，夜逾城，置王門側而去。明旦，閽人見之尤生怪心：「云何似人而復少異？我當白王。」白已，王默念之不以告人，因勅令為己子，字曰師子善奴。王後厭於國政，因使攝國。以本性故好食鮮肉，一時急求厨膳。膳夫求肉未至，遇有新死小兒，即以為食進之云云。如《賢愚經》、《智度論》說。乃至日日令求人肉，已食小兒數逾五百。城中共相告語：「必有夜叉入國，凡諸小兒當謹護之。」日未及暮，皆持入室守護甚嚴。膳人求之不得，又往大臣等家取之，又失五百。後一時持死小兒，而臂釧在其人手上，見人見識之因執縛。「誰執事者？此人盜小兒，當知前後所失必是此人也。」因彼首伏乃云：「王之咎，非我也。」群臣以白父王：「今太子猶有獸性，獸性不可為主，願王自理國。」王言：「我己灌頂而授彼位，云何奪之？」不從所請。群臣遂謀欲害之，彼因持利刀遁入山中。初時取死屍焚食之，後漸食人，乃至執王子五百，常求肉飼之，漸取而食。時國人立其弟為王，名為善奴，慈人惠和正法化理。後有四梵行者求上善法，王念言：「此人利我不少，當後報之。」未及與彼而出羽獵。群臣諫言：「獸王近在山中，或能為害，王勿出也。」王念言：「我欲利一切，不愛其身。今若取我而食，乃吾本願滿也。」遂出至林中，彼見獸王聞弟出故，即來取之。猛健故，諸婇女等皆悉散走，為其所執乃至悲泣等云云，如《智論》說。未報梵行者之意，與共約而放之。王言：「汝火未盡，當必還到（以彼先焚薪，待烟盡方燒人而食也）。」彼念：「以法何故，乃能不惜身命而來赴斯？」因問之，彼即欲不殺行等如法廣說。彼雖猛惡而有慧性，聞即悟解得未曾有，念言：「彼即我師，欲求何願？」王言：「汝今在林野中猶如猛獸，何能滿願耶？」答言：「我以念師恩故，要有所報必可說之。」王言：「若求願者，我之本懷唯在不殺，所願在此耳。」彼即許之，誓不害命也。又放五百王子而修善法。放已，與王同歸。王知彼已行善行，還立為王，使正法化世，而自出家。當知菩薩於如是怖畏之中尚不生瞋，而彼作利益之行，況餘事耶。如是《本生》等經中當廣說之耳。

Next is the precept against ill-will (vyāpāda): “Lord of Mysteries, the bodhisattva observes the precept against ill-will. Furthermore, Lord of Mysteries, the bodhisattva should observe the precept against ill-will; he should always endure patiently toward all, not clinging to wrath or joy, his mind being equal; he acts toward enemies just as toward friends. Why is this? The bodhisattva should not harbour evil intent”—this refers to having merits within oneself, termed samayabhakta, which shares the same meaning as keeping [the precepts] in mind, spoken of by the venerable ones in the Vinaya—“Why is this? Because the bodhisattva’s original nature is pure.” Here, “original nature” refers to the intrinsically acquired precepts. Below, “mind” refers to the phenomena manifested from the mind, which are ever pure within their original nature; therefore, the bodhisattva should observe the precept against ill-will. “He endures abundantly and universally toward all, constantly joyful and not clinging to wrath, with an equal, equanimous mind. He acts toward enemies just as toward friends. Why is this? Because this evil implement of mind is not that of a bodhisattva. For this reason, the bodhisattva’s mind is originally pure in its nature. Therefore, Lord of Mysteries, observe the precept against ill-will.” This is the ninth precept. Ill-will means giving rise to a malicious intent toward any sentient being, whereby unbeneficial conduct arises from the mind. The reason for observing this is that even if someone were to come to a bodhisattva and inflict various forms of harm, up to and including dismembering his limbs, he would still not give rise to a desire to harm that person—how much less so in lesser matters? If he were not like this, he would not be a bodhisattva. He should practice great forbearance universally in all places. When another inflicts various harms, he should reflect: “Owing to ignorance as a cause and condition in former lifetimes, I have taken on this troubled body. Furthermore, because I have constantly afflicted others throughout immeasurable lifetimes, my karma has now ripened and I undergo this retribution. What does it have to do with the other person, that I should resent or blame him?” One should cultivate such various correct contemplations. Moreover, one should contemplate: “This body arises from conditions and lacks self-nature; there is no self and no person—who harms and who receives?” Contemplating the true nature of phenomena through this, he does not give rise to a desire to harm that person. Such thoughts of wrath and resentment are themselves the implements of all evils. Because he can rejoice in this manner, his mind is ever delighted, well-pacified, loving, and patient; not clinging to self, others, or dharmas, he is always equanimous. This equanimity means non-duality between enemy and friend; toward all kinds—beneficial or unbeneficial, grave or light—his mind is completely equal without increase or decrease. He does not give rise to the intention to produce any implements of evil, but always carries out deeds that are beneficial and helpful to others, regarding the world equally just like an only son. For this reason, the bodhisattva correctly contemplates the true nature of phenomena and illuminates that this mind is originally pure in its nature. As a sūtra says: In the past, in the southern region, there was a king named Siṃha (Lion), whose city was named Abundant Joy (Saṃtuṣṭa). He ruled the realm with the correct Dharma and did not harm people. However, in accordance with the laws of the realm, he went out of the city to hunt in order to display his martial prowess. Although he had no intention to harm people, he wished to make neighbouring states cherish his virtue and fear his might, in order to protect the realm and pacify the multitude. While the king was hunting, he saw a fleeing deer and pursued it on his own, crossing mountains and traversing perilous terrain in his determination to overtake it. Because he had no intention to harm, once he caught up with it, he merely struck its horns with his whip and immediately released it. Why? Because he only wished to display his martial skill to overawe the people. Having entered deep into an uninhabited mountain region, his retinue could not keep up, and he rested in exhaustion in the mountains. There was a lioness who, seeing the king’s appearance to be superior to other men, gave rise to lustful desire; she came to press herself upon him, displaying signs of desire. Fearing her, the king immediately joined with her. At the beginning of the kalpa, even beasts understood human speech. Moreover, the nature of females is such that if they have intelligence, they can know when they conceive; thus she told the king, “I am already pregnant with the king’s offspring. When it is born in the future, what should be done?” The king gave her the seal he held in his hand, leaving it as a token, and said, “If a child is born, you may tie this to him and place him beside my gate.” Later, when she gave birth to a son, his appearance was like a human but extremely fierce and resolute, because he also possessed the nature of a beast. His mother, according to their prior agreement, leapt over the city wall at night, left him beside the king's gate, and departed. The next morning, the gatekeeper saw him and was exceedingly astonished: “How is it that he resembles a human and yet is slightly different? I must inform the king.” Having been informed, the king kept it to himself and did not tell anyone; he then ordered that the child be adopted as his own son, naming him Siṃhasukhadāsa (Lion Good Slave). Later, weary of state affairs, the king had him assume regent governance of the realm. Due to his original nature, he was fond of eating fresh meat. On one occasion, he urgently demanded a meal from the kitchen. The cook went in search of meat but had not yet found any, when he came across a newly deceased child; he immediately prepared it as food and presented it, and so forth, as told in the Damamūka-nidāna-sūtra and the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa. Eventually, he had human meat sought every day, and the number of children he had eaten exceeded five hundred. The people in the city told one another, “A yakṣa must have entered the country; we must carefully protect all the children.” Even before evening fell, they brought them all indoors and guarded them most strictly. The cook, unable to find any, went to the houses of ministers and others to take them, and another five hundred were lost. Later, on one occasion, when he was carrying a dead child, the arm-bracelet remained on that person's hand; someone saw and recognised it, and thereupon seized and bound him. “Who is this official? This man stole the child; know that all the previous disappearances must have been his doing!” Yielding to this, he confessed and said, “It was the king’s fault, not mine.” The ministers informed the royal father: “The crown prince still has a beast's nature. One with a beast’s nature cannot be a ruler; we pray that the king rule the state himself.” The king said, “I have already consecrated him and bestowed the throne upon him; how can I take it away?” He did not grant their request. The ministers then plotted to harm him, so taking a sharp sword, he fled into the mountains. At first, he took corpses, roasted and ate them; later, he gradually ate living people, even seizing five hundred princes, constantly seeking meat to feed them, and gradually taking them to eat. At that time, the people of the country installed his younger brother as king, named Sukhadāsa, who was compassionate, kind, harmonious, and governed with the correct Dharma. Later, four brāhmaṇas seeking the supreme good Dharma arrived; the king thought, “These men have benefited me not a little; I must repay them later.” Before he could attend to them, he went out hunting. The ministers remonstrated, “The beast-king is nearby in the mountains and might do harm; Your Majesty should not go out.” The king thought, “I wish to benefit all and do not cherish my own body. If he takes me and eats me now, my original vow will be fulfilled.” He then went out into the forest. When the beast-king saw and heard that his brother had come out, he came to seize him. Because he was fierce and mighty, the palace maidens all fled and scattered; he was seized by him, weeping in sorrow and so forth, as related in the Mahāprajñāpāramitopadeśa. Having not yet fulfilled his intention to repay the brāhmaṇas, he made an agreement with him and was released. The king said, “Before your fire has died down, I will surely return” (for he had first set fire to firewood and waited until the smoke cleared before roasting a man to eat). The beast-king thought, “For what sake of the Dharma can he come to face this without sparing his life?” He therefore questioned him, and the king expounded extensively on the practice of non-killing and so forth according to the Dharma. Although fierce and evil, he possessed intelligence; upon hearing it, he was immediately awakened to what he had never known before and thought, “He is my master; what vow does he seek?” The king said, “You are now in the forest wilderness just like a wild beast; how could you fulfil a vow?” He replied, “Because I am mindful of the master’s kindness, I must repay it; you must surely speak of it.” The king said, “If I am to seek a vow, my original wish is solely non-killing; my wish lies only in this.” He immediately granted it, vowing never to harm life. Furthermore, he released the five hundred princes to practice wholesome dharmas. Having released them, he returned together with the king. Knowing that he was already practicing wholesome conduct, the king re-established him as the monarch to transform the world with the correct Dharma, while he himself left the household life. One should know that even amid such terrors, a bodhisattva still does not give rise to anger, but performs actions of benefit toward him—how much more so in other matters! Such stories should be expounded extensively as in the Jātakas and other sūtras.