釋迦譜 1.403

1.403

爾時太子。復經少時啟王出遊。王聞此語心自念言。彼憂陀夷。既與太子共為朋友。今若出遊成勝於前。無復厭俗樂出家心。作是念言。即便聽許時王又復集諸大臣。悉語之言。太子今者復求出遊。我不忍違已復聽之。太子前出東南二門。已見老病還輒愁憂。今者宜令從西門出。我心慮其還又不樂。憂陀夷是其良友。冀今出還不復應爾。卿等好令修治道路。園林臺觀皆使嚴整。香華幡蓋數倍於前。無令復有老病臭穢在道側也。臣受勅已即語外司。嚴治道路并及園林。光麗倍常。王又先送諸妙妓女。置彼園中。又復勅語憂陀夷言。若當路側有不詳事。可以方便誘說其心。并勅諸臣隨從太子。皆令伺察。若有不吉遠驅逐之。爾時太子與憂陀夷。百官導從燒香散華。作眾妓樂出城西門。時淨居天心自念言。先現老病於二城門。舉眾皆見。令白淨王瞋責從者并及外司。太子今出。王制嚴峻我今現死。若皆見者增王忿怒。必加罰戮枉及無辜。我於今日所現之事。唯令太子及憂陀夷二人見耳。使餘官屬不受責也。作此念已即便來下。化為死入四人輿舉。以諸香華布散屍上。室家大小號哭送之。爾時太子與憂陀夷二人獨見。太子問言。此為何人。而以香華莊嚴其上。復有人眾號哭相送。時憂陀夷以王勅故默然不答。如是三問。淨居天王威神之力。使憂陀夷不覺答言是死人也。太子又問。何謂為死。憂陀夷言。夫謂死者。刀風解形神識去矣。四體諸根無復所知。此人在世貪著五欲。愛惜錢財辛苦經營。唯知積聚不識無常。今者一旦捨之而死。又為父母親戚屬眷之所愛念。命終之後猶如草木。恩情好惡不復相關。如是死者誠可哀也。太子聞已心大顫怖。又問憂陀夷言。唯此人死餘亦當然。即復答言。一切世人皆應如是。無有貴賤而得免脫。太子素性恬靜難動。既聞此語不能自安。即以微聲語憂陀夷。世間乃復有此死苦。云何於中而行放逸。心如木石不知怖畏。即勅御者可迴車還。御者答言。前出二門。未到園所中路而返。致令大王深見瞋責。今者豈敢復如此也。時憂陀夷與御者言。如汝所說不應便歸。即復前行至彼園中。香華幡蓋作眾妓樂。眾妓端正猶如諸天婇女無異。於太子前各競歌舞。冀以姿態悅動其意。太子心安不可移轉。即止園中蔭息樹間。除其侍衛端坐思惟。憶昔曾在閻浮樹下。遠離欲界。乃至得於第四禪定。爾時憂陀夷。到太子所而作此言。大王見勅。令與太子共為朋友。脫有得失互相開悟。朋友之法其要有三。一者見有過失轉相諫曉。二者見有好事深生隨喜。三者在於苦厄不相棄捨。今獻誠言願不見責。古昔諸王及今現在。皆悉受於五欲之樂。然後出家。太子云何永絕不顧。又人生世宜順人行。無有棄國而學道者。唯願太子受於五欲。令有子息不絕王嗣。爾時太子而答之言。誠如所說。但我不以損國故爾。亦復不言五欲無樂。以畏老病生死之苦。故於五欲不敢愛著。汝向所言古昔諸王。先經五欲然後出家。此諸王等今在何許。以愛欲故或在地獄。或在餓鬼。或在畜生。或在人天。以有如是輪轉苦故。是以我欲離老病苦生死法耳。汝今云何令我受之。時憂陀夷雖竭辯才勸獎太子。不能令迴。即便退坐歸於所止。太子仍勅嚴駕還宮。諸妓女眾及憂陀夷。愁憂慘慼顏貌顰蹙。如人新喪所愛親屬。太子到宮惻愴倍常。時白淨王呼憂陀夷。而問之言。太子今出寧有樂不。憂陀夷言。出城不遠逢見死人。亦不知其從何而來。太子與我同時見之。太子問言。此為何人。我亦不覺答是死人。時王即復問諸從者。汝等皆見城西門外有死人不。從者答言。我等不見。王聞此語神意豁然。而自念言。太子憂陀夷二人獨見。此是天力非諸臣咎。必定當如阿私陀言。作此念已心大苦惱。復增妓女以娛樂之。日日遣人慰誘太子。而語之言。國是汝有。何故愁憂而不樂也。王又嚴勅諸妓女眾。悅太子意勿捨晝夜。時白淨王雖知天力非復人事。愛重太子不能不言。心自思惟。太子前已出三城門。今者唯有北門未出。其必不久更求出遊。當復莊嚴彼外園林。倍令光麗。勿使有諸不可意事。如所思惟具勅諸臣。時王又復心自願言。太子若出城北門時。唯願諸天勿復現於不吉祥事。復令我子心生憂惱。既心願已遂勅御者。太子若出當令乘馬。使得四望見諸人民光麗莊飾。是時太子啟王出遊。王不忍違。便與憂陀夷及餘官屬。前後導從出城北門。到彼園所。太子下馬止息樹下。除去侍衛端坐思惟。念於世間老病死苦。時淨居化天。作比丘法服持鉢。手執錫杖。視地而行。在於太子前。太子見已即便問言。汝是何人。比丘答言。我是比丘。太子又問何謂比丘。答曰。能破結賊不受後身。故曰比丘。世間皆悉無常危脆。我所修學無漏聖道。不著色聲香味觸法。永得無為到解脫岸。作是言已於太子前。現神通力騰虛而去。當爾之時。諸從官屬皆悉覩見。太子既已見此比丘。又聞廣說出家功德。會其宿懷厭欲之情。便自唱言。善哉善哉。天人之中唯此為勝。我當決定修學是道。作是語已。即便索馬還歸宮城。於時太子心生歡慶。而自念言。我先見有老病死苦。晝夜常恐為此所逼。今見比丘開悟我情。示解脫路。作此念已即自思惟。方便求覓出家因緣。爾時白淨王問憂陀夷言。太子今出寧有樂不。時憂陀夷即答王言。太子向出所經道路無諸不祥既到園中。太子獨自在於樹下。遙見一人剃除髮鬚著染色衣。來太子前而共語言。語言既畢騰虛而去。竟亦不知何所論說。太子因是嚴駕而歸。當爾之時顏容歡悅。還至宮中方生憂愁。時白淨王。既聞此語心生狐疑。亦復不知是何瑞相。深懷懊惱而自念言。太子決定捨家學道。又納其妃久而無子。我今當勅耶輸陀羅。當思方便莫絕國嗣。復應警戒。勿使太子去而不知。既作是念如所思惟。即便勅於耶輸陀羅。耶輸陀羅聞王勅已。心懷慚愧默然而住。行止坐臥不離太子。時王復增諸妙妓女以娛樂之。

At that time, after a short while, the prince again petitioned the king to go out on an excursion. Hearing these words, the king thought to himself: "Now that Udāyin is a friend of the prince, if he goes out on an excursion now, it will be better than before; he will no longer have a mind weary of the mundane world or joyful at leaving home." Having thought this, he granted permission. The king then assembled his great ministers and addressed them all, saying: "The prince now again seeks to go out on an excursion. Unable to bear opposing him, I have permitted it. Previously, when the prince went out the east and south gates, he saw old age and sickness and returned each time in grief and sorrow. Today, he should be made to go out through the west gate. In my heart, I worry that he will return unhappy again. Udāyin is his good friend, and I hope that upon returning from this outing it will no longer be so. You should properly have the roads repaired, and make the park, groves, terraces, and pavilions all neat and magnificent, with incense, flowers, banners, and canopies several times more than before. Do not let old age, sickness, stench, or filth be by the roadside again." The ministers, having received the command, told the outer officials to strictly prepare the roads and the parks, making them twice as splendid as usual. The king also sent exquisite singing girls in advance and placed them in that park. He further commanded Udāyin, saying: "If there should be any inauspicious thing by the roadside, you may use skillful means to entice and persuade his mind." He also commanded the ministers accompanying the prince to keep watch, and if there was anything inauspicious, to drive it far away. At that time, the prince, together with Udāyin, led by the hundred officials, with burning incense and scattered flowers, and with various kinds of music playing, went out through the city's west gate. Then the gods of the Śuddhāvāsa Heaven thought to themselves: "Previously, old age and sickness were manifested at the two city gates, and the entire assembly saw them, causing King Śuddhodana to become angry and rebuke the attendants and the outer officials. Now that the prince is going out, the king's regulations are strict. If I now manifest a corpse and everyone sees it, it will increase the king's wrath, and punishment and execution will surely fall unjustly upon the innocent. What I manifest today shall be seen only by the prince and Udāyin, so that the other officials will not receive blame." Having thought this, he descended and transformed into a dead man carried by four people, with various incense and flowers scattered over the corpse, and his household, old and young, wailing and weeping as they escorted him. At that time, only the prince and Udāyin saw it. The prince asked: "Who is this person, that they adorn him with incense and flowers above, and a crowd wails and weeps as they escort him?" Udāyin, because of the king's order, remained silent and did not answer. When asked thus three times, by the awesome spiritual power of the king of the Śuddhāvāsa Heaven, Udāyin inadvertently replied: "This is a dead person." The prince again asked: "What is meant by 'dead'?" Udāyin said: "What is called 'dead' is when the wind-knife dismantles the form and the consciousness departs; the four limbs and all the sense faculties no longer perceive anything. While this person was in the world, he greedily clung to the five desires, begrudged money and wealth, and toiled bitterly to make a living; he only knew how to amass wealth and did not recognize impermanence. Today, suddenly abandoning it, he has died. Moreover, he was dearly loved by his parents, relatives, and kin; after the end of life, he is just like grass or wood, and affection, kindness, likes, and dislikes no longer concern him. A death such as this is truly lamentable." When the prince heard this, his heart trembled with great terror. He asked Udāyin again: "Is it only this person who dies, or must others be so as well?" He replied again: "All people of the world must be like this; none, noble or lowly, can escape." The prince was by nature calm and difficult to stir, but having heard these words, he could not compose himself. In a low voice he said to Udāyin: "In the world there is actually this suffering of death! How can people act with heedlessness within it, their hearts like wood and stone, knowing no dread?" He then ordered the charioteer: "Turn the carriage back." The charioteer answered: "On the previous excursions through the two gates, we turned back halfway before reaching the park, which caused the great king to be deeply enraged. Today, how could I dare do so again?" Udāyin said to the charioteer: "As you say, we should not return at once." They then proceeded forward to that park. With incense, flowers, banners, and canopies, various kinds of music were played. The singing girls were as upright and beautiful as heavenly maidens, no different. In front of the prince, they vied with one another in singing and dancing, hoping that their charms would please and move his mind. The prince's mind was steadfast and could not be swayed. He then stopped in the park, rested in the shade among the trees, dismissed his attendants, and sat upright in contemplation. He remembered once sitting under a jambu tree, leaving far behind the desire realm, up to attaining the fourth dhyāna. At that time, Udāyin came to where the prince was and spoke these words: "The great king commanded me to be a friend to the prince, so that if there are gains or losses, we may enlighten each other. The principle of friendship has three essentials: first, seeing a fault, to admonish and enlighten each other; second, seeing a good thing, to rejoice deeply in accord with it; third, in times of suffering and distress, not to abandon each other. Now I offer sincere words, and pray not to be blamed. The kings of antiquity as well as those of the present all indulged in the pleasures of the five desires and only then left home. Why does the prince renounce them forever without looking back? Furthermore, when people are born into the world, they should follow human ways; no one abandons the kingdom to cultivate the Path. I only wish that the prince would accept the five desires so that he may have offspring and not break the royal lineage." At that time, the prince answered him: "It is truly as you say. Yet it is not that I wish to harm the kingdom that I do so, nor do I say that the five desires have no pleasure. It is because I dread the suffering of old age, sickness, birth, and death that I dare not harbor attachment to the five desires. The kings of antiquity you mentioned earlier, who first experienced the five desires and then left home—where are those kings now? Because of craving and desire, they are either in the hells, or among the hungry ghosts, or among the animals, or among humans and gods. Because there is such suffering of transmigration, I therefore wish to leave behind the suffering of old age and sickness, and the phenomena of birth and death. Why do you now bid me accept them?" Although Udāyin exhausted his eloquence to urge and encourage the prince, he could not turn him. He then withdrew, sat down, and returned to his place. The prince then ordered the carriage prepared to return to the palace. The company of singing girls and Udāyin were grieved and dejected, their faces frowning, like people who had just lost beloved kin. When the prince arrived at the palace, he was grieved twice as much as usual. King Śuddhodana called Udāyin and asked him: "Did the prince have any joy on his excursion today?" Udāyin said: "Not far after leaving the city, we encountered a dead person; nor do I know from where he came. The prince and I saw it at the same time. The prince asked, 'Who is this person?' and I inadvertently answered that it was a dead person." The king then asked the attendants: "Did you all see a dead person outside the city's west gate?" The attendants replied: "We did not see one." Hearing these words, the king felt a sudden realization and thought to himself: "Only the prince and Udāyin saw it; this is the power of the gods, not the fault of the ministers. It will surely be as Asita said." Having thought this, he felt great anguish. He again added singing girls to entertain him, and sent someone every day to comfort and entice the prince, saying: "The kingdom is yours; why are you grieved and unhappy?" The king also strictly ordered the company of singing girls to please the prince's mind and not leave him day or night. Although King Śuddhodana knew it was the power of the gods and no longer human affairs, he loved and cherished the prince so dearly that he could not refrain from speaking. He thought to himself: "The prince has already gone out through three city gates; now only the north gate remains. He will surely seek to go out again before long. I must again adorn the outer park and groves, making them twice as resplendent, and let there be no displeasing things." As he thought, he fully commanded the ministers. The king then also wished in his heart: "When the prince goes out through the north gate of the city, may the gods no longer manifest inauspicious things to make my son's heart grieve again!" Having made this wish, he ordered the charioteer: "When the prince goes out, make him ride a horse so that he can look in all four directions and see the people splendidly adorned." At that time, the prince petitioned the king to go out on an excursion. The king could not bear to refuse. Accompanied by Udāyin and the other officials, with attendants before and behind, he went out through the city's north gate and arrived at that park. The prince dismounted, rested under a tree, dismissed his attendants, and sat upright in contemplation, mindful of the suffering of old age, sickness, and death in the world. Then a god of the Śuddhāvāsa Heaven transformed into a bhikṣu, wearing Dharma robes and holding an alms bowl, carrying a tin staff in his hand, walking with eyes cast upon the ground before the prince. When the prince saw him, he asked: "Who are you?" The bhikṣu replied: "I am a bhikṣu." The prince asked again: "What is meant by a bhikṣu?" He replied: "One who can destroy the bandits of defilement and receive no further existence is called a bhikṣu. The worldly is all impermanent, precarious, and fragile. What I cultivate is the undefiled noble path: not clinging to forms, sounds, scents, tastes, tangibles, or phenomena, eternally attaining the unconditioned and reaching the shore of liberation." Having spoken these words, he manifested supernatural power before the prince and leaped into the air, flying away. At that time, all the accompanying officials saw it. Having seen this bhikṣu and heard the extensive explanation of the merits of leaving home, which resonated with his long-held inclination of revulsion toward desire, the prince proclaimed: "Excellent, excellent! Among gods and humans, only this is supreme. I will resolutely cultivate and study this Path." Having said this, he called for his horse and returned to the palace city. At that time, the prince felt joy and celebration in his heart, and thought to himself: "I previously saw the suffering of old age, sickness, and death, and day and night I constantly feared being oppressed by them. Now seeing the bhikṣu has enlightened my feelings and shown the road to liberation." Having thought this, he pondered skillful means to seek the conditions for leaving home. At that time, King Śuddhodana asked Udāyin: "Did the prince have any joy on his excursion today?" Udāyin replied to the king: "The road the prince traveled when going out earlier had no inauspicious things. After arriving at the park, the prince was alone under a tree. From afar he saw a man with shaved hair and beard, wearing dyed robes, who came before the prince and spoke with him. When the speaking was done, he leaped into the air and flew away; nor do I know what they discussed. Because of this, the prince had the carriage prepared and returned. At that time, his expression was joyful, but only after returning to the palace did he become sorrowful." When King Śuddhodana heard these words, doubt arose in his heart, nor did he know what auspicious omen this was. Deeply distressed, he thought to himself: "The prince is resolved to leave home and cultivate the Path. Moreover, he took his consort long ago, but has no son. I should now command Yaśodharā to think of skillful means so that the royal lineage is not broken. Furthermore, we must be vigilant so that the prince does not depart unnoticed." Having formed this thought, he gave the command to Yaśodharā just as he had pondered. Having heard the king's command, Yaśodharā felt ashamed and remained silent, never leaving the prince whether walking, standing, sitting, or lying down. The king again added exquisite singing girls to entertain him.