釋迦譜 1.420

1.420

爾時太子即便前行。向彼阿羅邏仙人所住之處。于時諸天語仙人言。薩婆悉達棄捨國土。辭別父母。為求無上正真之道。欲拔一切眾生苦故。今者已來垂至於此。時彼仙人。既聞天語心大歡喜。俄爾之頃。遙見太子即出奉迎。讚言善來。俱還所住。請太子坐。是時仙人。既見太子。願貌端正相好具是。諸根恬靜深生愛敬。即問太子。所行道路得無疲也。太子初生及以出家。又來至此我悉知之。能於火聚自覺而出。又如大鳥於羂索中而自免脫。古昔諸王盛年之時。恣受五欲至於根熟。然後方捨國邑樂具。出家學道此未足奇。太子今者捨此壯年。能棄五欲遠來至此。真為殊特。當勤精進速度彼岸。太子聞已即答之曰。我聞汝言極為歡喜。汝可為我說斷生老病死之法。我今樂聞。仙人答言。善哉善哉。即便說曰。眾生之始始從於冥初。從於冥初起於我慢。從於我慢生於癡心。從於癡心生於染愛。從於染愛生五微塵氣。從五微塵氣生於五大。從於五大生貪欲瞋恚等諸煩惱。於是流轉生老病死憂悲苦惱。今為太子略言之耳。爾時太子即便問曰。我今已知汝之所說生死根本。復何方便而能斷之。仙人答言。若欲斷此生死本者。先當出家修持戒行。謙卑忍辱住空閑處。修習禪定離欲惡不善法。有覺有觀。得初禪。除覺觀定。生入喜心。得第二禪。捨喜心得正念。具根樂。得第三禪。除苦樂得淨念。入捨根。得第四禪。獲無想報。別有一師。說如此處名為解脫。從定覺已。然後方知非解脫處。離色想入空處。滅有對想。入識處滅。無量想識。唯觀一識。入無所有處。離於種種相。入非想非非想處。斯處名為究竟解脫。是諸學者之彼岸也。太子若以斷於生老病死患者。應當修學如此之行。爾時太子聞仙人言。心不喜樂即自思惟。其所知見非究竟處。非是永斷諸結煩惱。即便語言。我今於汝所說法中。有所未解。今欲相問。仙人答言。敬從來意。即問曰。非想非非想處為有我也。為無我也。若言無我。不應言非想非非想。若言有我。我為有知。我為無知。我若無知則同木石。我若有知則有攀緣。既有攀緣則有染著。以染著故則非解脫。汝以盡於麁結。而不自知細結猶在。以是之故謂為究竟。細結滋長復受下結。以此故知非度彼岸若能除我及以我想。一切盡捨。是則名為真解脫也。仙人默然心自思惟。太子所說甚為深妙。爾時太子復問仙人。汝年至幾而出家也。修梵行來復幾許年。仙人答言。我年十六而便出家。修梵行來一百四年。太子聞已而心念言。出家已來乃至是久。而所得法正如此乎。于時太子為求勝法。即從座起與仙人別。爾時仙人語太子言。我久遠來習此苦行。而所得果正如此耳。汝是王種。云何而能修苦行也。太子答言。汝所修法非為苦也。別有最苦難行之道。仙人既見太子智慧。久觀志意堅固不虧。知決定成一切種智。白太子言。汝若道成願先度我。於是太子答言善哉。次至迦蘭所住之處。論議問答亦復如是。太子即便前路而去。時二仙人見太子去。各心念言。太子智慧深妙奇特乃爾難測。合掌奉送絕視方還。爾時太子調伏阿羅邏迦蘭二仙人已。即便前進伽闍山苦行林中。是憍陳如等五人所止住處。即於尼連禪河側。靜坐思惟觀察眾生根。宜應六年苦行而以度之。思惟是已。便修苦行。於是諸天奉獻麻米。太子為求正真道故。淨心守戒日食一麻一米。設有乞者亦以施之。爾時憍陳如等五人。既見太子端坐思惟修於苦行。或日食一麻。或日食一米。或復二日乃至七日。食一麻米。時憍陳如等亦修苦行。供奉太子不離其側。既見此已即遣一人。還白王師及以大臣。具說太子所行之事。爾時王師大臣俱還宮門。顏貌愁悴身形萎熟。猶如有人喪其所親。殯送既畢抑忍而歸。時守門者而白王言。師與大臣今在門外。王既聞已氣奔聲絕。身首顫動。時守門人解王此意。即呼令前。王與相見悲不能言。如是良久微聲而問。太子既是我之性命。卿等今者獨作此歸。我之性命云何而存。王師答言。我奉王勅尋求太子。便至跋伽仙人住處。訪覓太子。仙人語我太子所在。并說太子所言之事。我便前行而於中路。遇見太子在於樹下端坐思惟。相好光明踰於日月。即向太子。具說大王摩訶波闍波提及耶輸陀羅憂苦之情。太子即以深重之聲而見答言。我豈不知父王親戚恩情深也。但畏生死別離之苦。為欲斷除故來此耳。如是種種言辭所說。志意堅固如須彌山不可移動。捨我而去如棄草芥。爾時即便選擇五人。隨從給侍伺察所在。所遣人中有一人還。說言太子當至阿羅邏迦蘭仙人之所。路由恒河。以天神力而得度水。至王舍城。時頻婆娑羅王來詣太子。方便譬說不應出家。分國共治及以全與。并欲與兵令伐他國。太子亦復皆悉不受。即又前行達仙人所。而為說法降伏其心。又至伽闍山苦行林中。尼連禪河側。靜坐思惟日食一麻一米。爾時白淨王聞師大臣說。使人如此語已。心大悲惱。舉體顫掉身毛皆竪。即語王師及大臣言。太子遂捨轉輪王位。父母親屬恩愛之樂。遠在深山修此善行。我今薄福生失如此珍寶之子。王即復以使人所言。向摩訶波闍波提及耶輸陀羅而為說之。時白淨王即便嚴駕五百乘車。摩訶波闍波提及耶輸陀羅。亦復相與辦五百乘。一切資生皆悉具足。即喚車匿而語之言。汝送太子遠放深山。今復令汝領此千乘。載致資糧送與太子。隨時供養勿使乏少。盡更來請。車匿受勅即領千乘。疾速而去至太子所。見形消瘦皮骨相連。血脈悉現如波羅奢華頭面禮足悶絕於地。良久乃起。銜淚而言。大王憶念太子不捨日夜今故遣我。領此千乘載資生具。以餉太子。于時太子答車匿言。我逆父母及捨國土。遠來在此為求至道。云何當復受此餉也。爾時車匿聞此語已。心自思惟。太子今者既不肯受如是資供。我當別覓一人領此千乘還歸王所。我住於此奉事太子。即差一人領車而去。於是車匿密侍太子。不離昏晨。

At that time, the prince went forward, heading toward where the hermit Ārāḍa lived. At that time, the gods said to the hermit, "Sarvārthasiddha has renounced his realm and bid farewell to his parents. To seek the unexcelled, true, and correct Path and desiring to uproot the suffering of all sentient beings, he has now come and is just arriving here." Hearing the gods' words, the hermit rejoiced greatly in his heart. After a short while, seeing the prince from afar, he went out to welcome him, praised him saying "Welcome!", and returned together to his dwelling, where he invited the prince to sit. At that time, the hermit, seeing that the prince's countenance was upright and fully possessed the marks and signs, and that his sense faculties were tranquil and serene, gave rise to deep affection and respect. He then asked the prince, "Has the road you traveled not fatigued you? I know all about your initial birth, your going forth, and your coming here. You were able to realize [the danger] on your own and escape from the mass of fire, like a great bird freeing itself from a snare. When the kings of antiquity were in the prime of life, they indulged freely in the five desires until their faculties matured, and only then abandoned their lands, cities, and implements of pleasure to go forth and study the Path; this is not yet extraordinary. But now, in the prime of life, you have been able to renounce the five desires and come here from afar; this is truly remarkable. You should apply yourself with diligence and swiftly cross to the other shore." Having heard this, the prince answered him, "Hearing your words makes me exceedingly joyful. Please expound to me the method for severing birth, aging, illness, and death; I now delight to hear it." The hermit replied, "Excellent, excellent!" and then said, "The beginning of sentient beings originates from the Primal Darkness. From the Primal Darkness arises conceit (asmimāna). From conceit is born folly. From folly is born defiled craving. From defiled craving are born the five subtle particles. From the five subtle particles are born the five great elements. From the five great elements are born greedy desire, anger, and other defilements. Thereupon they transmigrate through birth, aging, illness, death, sorrow, lamentation, pain, and distress. I have now spoken of it briefly for you, Prince." Thereupon the prince asked, "I now understand the root of birth and death that you have spoken of. By what expedient means can it be severed?" The hermit replied, "If one wishes to sever this root of birth and death, one should first go forth, cultivate and uphold moral discipline, be humble and patient, and dwell in a secluded place. Practicing dhyāna meditation, one abandons desires and evil, unwholesome states: with applied thought and sustained thought, one attains the first dhyāna. Eliminating applied and sustained thought, entering a mind born of joy, one attains the second dhyāna. Relinquishing the mind of joy, attaining right mindfulness and experiencing bodily pleasure, one attains the third dhyāna. Eliminating pleasure and pain, attaining pure mindfulness, and entering the faculty of equanimity, one attains the fourth dhyāna, obtaining the retribution of non-conception. Another teacher has declared such a state to be liberation; only after awakening from the absorption does one realize it is not a place of liberation. Leaving behind perception of form, one enters the sphere of infinite space. Ending perceptions of material resistance, one enters the sphere of infinite consciousness. Ending immeasurable perceptions and consciousnesses and contemplating only a single consciousness, one enters the sphere of nothingness. Departing from diverse marks, one enters the sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception. This place is called ultimate liberation; it is the other shore for all practitioners. Prince, if you wish to sever the calamity of birth, aging, illness, and death, you should cultivate and train in such practices." At that time, hearing the hermit's words, the prince's heart was not pleased. He thought to himself: "What he knows and sees is not the ultimate state; it is not the permanent eradication of the fetters and defilements." He then said, "Among the teachings you have spoken, there is something I do not yet understand, and I wish to question you about it." The hermit replied, "I respectfully invite your inquiry." [The prince] then asked, "In the sphere of neither-perception-nor-non-perception, is there a self, or is there no self? If you say there is no self, it should not be called 'neither perception nor non-perception.' If you say there is a self, does this self possess consciousness, or does it lack consciousness? If it lacks consciousness, it is the same as wood or stone. If it possesses consciousness, then there is grasping at conditions. Since there is grasping at conditions, there is defiled attachment. Because of defiled attachment, it is not liberation. You have exhausted the coarse fetters, but do not realize that the subtle fetters still remain. For this reason you consider it ultimate. As the subtle fetters grow, one again receives the lower fetters. From this it is known that you have not crossed to the other shore. If one can eliminate the self and the perception of a self, abandoning all completely, this is called true liberation." The hermit fell silent, thinking to himself that what the prince said was exceedingly profound and wondrous. At that time, the prince further asked the hermit, "At what age did you go forth? How many years have you cultivated pure conduct?" The hermit replied, "I went forth when I was sixteen. I have cultivated pure conduct for one hundred and four years." Hearing this, the prince thought to himself, "Having gone forth for so long, is the dharma he has attained only this?" Then, in search of a superior dharma, the prince rose from his seat to take leave of the hermit. At that time, the hermit said to the prince, "I have practiced these austerities for a long time, and the fruit I have attained is merely this. You are of royal lineage; how could you practice austerities?" The prince replied, "The method you practice is not asceticism. There is another path of the most bitter and difficult practice." Having witnessed the prince's wisdom and observed his steadfast and unwavering determination, the hermit knew he would certainly achieve all-knowledge. He said to the prince, "If you accomplish the Path, I pray you will deliver me first." Thereupon the prince answered, "Very well." Next, he came to the dwelling place of Kālāma. The debates and answers were also just like this. The prince then proceeded on his way. Seeing the prince depart, the two hermits each thought to themselves, "The prince's wisdom is so profound, wondrous, extraordinary, and fathomless." Pressing their palms together, they saw him off until he was out of sight, and only then returned. Having subdued the two hermits Ārāḍa and Kālāma, the prince advanced to the forest of austerities at Mount Gayā. This was where Kaundinya and the other five men were staying. Right beside the Nairañjanā River, he sat quietly in reflection, observing the capacities of sentient beings: it was suitable that he should undergo six years of austerities to deliver them. Having reflected thus, he cultivated austerities. Thereupon, the gods offered hemp and rice. For the sake of seeking the true and correct Path, the prince purified his mind, maintained the precepts, and ate only one grain of hemp and one grain of rice per day. If any beggars came, he also gave them to them. At that time, Kaundinya and the other five men, seeing the prince sitting upright in meditation, practicing austerities—sometimes eating one grain of hemp a day, sometimes eating one grain of rice a day, or sometimes eating one grain of hemp and rice every two to seven days—also practiced austerities, waiting upon the prince without leaving his side. Having seen this, they dispatched one person to return and inform the royal tutor and the great minister, recounting in full what the prince was doing. At that time, the royal tutor and the great minister returned to the palace gate together. Their faces were haggard and sorrowful, their bodies withered and worn, like people who had lost their close relatives and, having concluded the funeral, forced themselves to endure it and return. The gatekeeper reported to the king, "The royal tutor and the great minister are now outside the gate." Hearing this, the king's breath faltered, his voice choked, and his body and head trembled. Understanding the king's feeling, the gatekeeper called them forward. When the king saw them, he grieved so much he could not speak. After a long while, he asked in a faint voice, "The prince is my very life. How could you return alone like this? How can my life be preserved?" The royal tutor replied, "Carrying out the royal order to search for the prince, we went to the dwelling place of the hermit Bhārgava to look for him. The hermit told us of the prince's whereabouts and recounted what the prince had said. We then proceeded forward, and on the way we encountered the prince sitting upright in meditation beneath a tree, his marks and signs shining with a radiance surpassing the sun and moon. We then recounted to the prince in full the grief and distress of the Great King, Mahāprajāpatī, and Yaśodharā. The prince then replied in a deep and resonant voice, 'How could I not know the profound affection of my royal father and relatives? But fearing the suffering of separation through birth and death, I have come here to sever it.' Speaking with various words such as these, his determination was as unshakeable as Mount Sumeru. Abandoning us, he went away as if discarding grass. Thereupon, we chose five men to follow and attend him, and to observe where he went. One of the men sent has now returned, saying that the prince would go to the hermits Ārāḍa and Kālāma. His route crossed the Ganges River, and by the power of divine spirits he crossed the water and reached Rājagṛha. At that time, King Bimbisāra came to visit the prince, using expedients and parables to urge that he should not go forth, offering to divide the kingdom to govern it jointly, or to give it entirely to him, and also wishing to grant troops so that he might attack other kingdoms. The prince accepted none of these. He then advanced to the dwelling of the hermits, and expounded the Dharma to subdue their minds. He further arrived at the forest of austerities at Mount Gayā, beside the Nairañjanā River, sitting quietly in contemplation, eating only one grain of hemp and one grain of rice a day." At that time, King Śuddhodana, hearing the tutor and minister report such words from the messenger, was grieved and anguished in his heart. His whole body trembled, and the hairs of his body stood on end. He then said to the royal tutor and the minister, "The prince has actually abandoned the rank of a wheel-turning king and the joy of affection with parents and relatives, to cultivate these wholesome practices far away in the deep mountains! Having so little merit, I have lost such a precious son in this lifetime!" The king then recounted the messenger's words to Mahāprajāpatī and Yaśodharā. King Śuddhodana then prepared five hundred chariots; Mahāprajāpatī and Yaśodharā also together provided five hundred chariots, fully equipped with all livelihood necessities. He then summoned Chandaka and told him, "You escorted the prince and abandoned him far away in the deep mountains. Now I order you to lead these thousand chariots, loaded with provisions, and take them to the prince. Provide for him at all times, never letting him lack anything; when they are exhausted, come and ask for more." Having received the order, Chandaka led the thousand chariots, went swiftly to where the prince was, and saw his body emaciated, skin and bone adhering to each other, and blood vessels all visible like palāśa flowers. He bowed his head to the prince's feet and fainted to the ground. After a long while he arose, and holding back tears, said, "The Great King remembers you, Prince, day and night without ceasing. He has therefore sent me to lead these thousand chariots loaded with livelihood necessities to present to you, Prince." The prince replied to Chandaka, "I have gone against my parents and abandoned the kingdom, coming far away here to seek the supreme Path. How could I accept these gifts again?" Hearing this, Chandaka thought to himself, "Since the prince is unwilling to accept such provisions now, I should find another person to lead these thousand chariots back to the king's presence. I will remain here to attend upon the prince." He then appointed one person to lead the chariots away. Thereupon Chandaka secretly attended upon the prince, leaving him neither morning nor evening.