釋迦譜 1.407

1.407

At that time, the prince next arrived at the ascetic hermitage of the ṛṣi Bhārgava. Seeing this park and forest, quiet and free from any clamour, the prince felt joy in his heart, and his faculties were pleased and gladdened. He then dismounted from his horse, stroked its back, and said: "The difficult task you have now accomplished." He also said to Chandaka: "The horse ran swiftly like the king of garuḍas; you followed constantly without leaving my side. In the world there are those who have a good heart yet their bodies do not follow, or who exert bodily strength yet their hearts do not match it. Now both your heart and body have in no way failed me. Furthermore, people of the world vie to serve and wait upon those who are wealthy and noble; yet now that I have abandoned the kingdom and come to this forest, you alone have been able to follow me, which is exceedingly rare. Since I have now reached a quiet and secluded place, you may return to the palace together with Kaṇṭhaka." When Chandaka heard these words, he wept and wailed, swooning and collapsing to the ground, overcome with grief. Thereupon Kaṇṭhaka, hearing that he was being dismissed, bent his knees, licked the prince's feet, and his tears fell like rain. Chandaka answered, saying: "How can I bear to hear such words from the prince? In the palace I disobeyed the Great King's order and hitched Kaṇṭhaka for the prince on my own accord, bringing us here today. Because they have lost the prince, the father king and Mahāprajāpatī will surely be filled with worry and distress; inside and outside the palace there will surely be great commotion. Moreover, this place has many perils and hardships; fierce beasts and venomous serpents crisscross the paths. How could I now abandon the prince and return to the palace alone?" The prince replied to Chandaka: "The way of the world is to be born alone and die alone; how could there be companions? Furthermore, there are the sufferings of birth, old age, sickness, and death; how could I make companions of these? It is in order to sever all suffering that I have come here. When suffering is severed, only then will I be a companion to all sentient beings. For now, I have not yet freed myself from all sufferings; how could I be a companion to you?" Chandaka again said: "Since birth, the prince has grown up in the inner palace; his body, hands, and feet are all delicate and soft, and the couches and cushions he slept upon were all fine and smooth. How can you now suddenly tread upon thorns, rubble, and mud, and lodge beneath trees?" The prince replied: "It is truly as you say. Even if I stayed in the palace, though I might avoid the bodily trouble of these thorns, the suffering of old age, sickness, and death would surely afflict me in the end." Having heard these words from the prince, Chandaka wept, shed tears, and fell silent. Then the prince took the seven-jewelled sword from Chandaka and made a lion's roar: "In order to accomplish anuttarā samyaksambodhi, the past Buddhas discarded ornaments and shaved off their hair and beards; I too will now follow the Dharma of the Buddhas." Having spoken these words, he took off his jewelled crown and the bright pearl from his topknot, handed them to Chandaka, and said to him: "Take this jewelled crown and bright pearl, and place them at the feet of the king. On my behalf, please report to the Great King: 'I do not do this for the sake of heavenly bliss, nor am I unfilial to my parents, nor do I harbour any anger or resentment in my heart. It is solely because I fear birth, old age, sickness, and death, and have come here to eradicate and sever them. You should assist me by rejoicing with gladness; do not turn an auspicious event into sadness and grief.' If the father king says that my leaving home is untimely, report to the Great King in my words: 'When old age, sickness, and death arrive, how could they have a fixed time? Though one may be young and vigorous, how can one escape them?' If the father king should further reprove me, saying, 'The original agreement was that when you had a son you would be allowed to leave home; now you have no son, so why have you gone? Moreover, why did you not inform me when leaving the palace?', report fully to the father king on my behalf: 'Yaśodharā has long been pregnant. The king himself heard this and formerly gave such an order, so this was not done arbitrarily.' In ancient times, there were wheel-turning sage kings who grew weary of royal station, entered the mountains and forests, and left home to seek the path; none returned midway to indulge in the five desires. My leaving home now is also like this: until I attain bodhi, I will never return to the palace. Relatives within and without all harbour feelings of love and attachment toward me; using your eloquence, explain this to them, so that they do not senselessly foster distress and grief on my account." The prince also took off his bodily necklace, handed it to Chandaka, and said to him: "Hold this necklace on my behalf and present it to Mahāprajāpatī, saying: 'In order to sever the root of all suffering, I have left the palace walls to seek the fulfillment of the great vow; do not, on the contrary, produce further suffering on my account.'" He also took off the rest of his bodily ornaments, gave them for Yaśodharā, and likewise said: "To be born into the world is to suffer separation from loved ones. In order to sever these sufferings, I have left home to train in the path; do not constantly harbour grief and distress on my account." And he said the same for all his other relatives. At that time Chandaka, having heard these words, was redoubled in his heartbreaking sorrow, yet could not bear to disobey the prince's instructions. He immediately knelt on both knees, received the jewelled crown, the bright pearl, the necklace, and the ornaments, and said with falling tears: "Hearing these vows of the prince, my whole body trembles. Even if a person had a heart like wood or stone, hearing these words they would surely be moved to grief; how much more so for me, who have served the prince since birth—how could I hear these vows and not be overwhelmed by sorrow? My only wish is that the prince abandon this resolve, so as not to cause the father king, Mahāprajāpatī, Yaśodharā, and all other relatives to feel great grief and suffering. If it is certain that your mind cannot be turned back, do not abandon me here as well. I now take refuge at the prince's feet, and see no reason whatsoever to leave and part from you. If I return to the palace, the king will surely reprove me: 'Why did you leave the prince all alone and return?' With what words would you have me answer the Great King?" The prince replied: "You should not speak such words now. Everything in the world must part; how could there be permanent gathering? Seven days after I was born, my mother died; even between mother and child there is separation by death and birth, so how much more for others? Do not harbour special attachment toward me; you may return to the palace together with Kaṇṭhaka." Though ordered a second time in this way, Chandaka was still unwilling to go. Thereupon the prince took the sharp sword and shaved off his hair and beard himself, making this vow: "Now that I cut off my hair and beard, I vow together with all beings to sever and eradicate defilements as well as habitual obstacles." Śakra Devānām Indra caught the hair and departed. The devas in the sky burned incense and scattered flowers, praising with one voice: "Excellent! Excellent!" The Scripture on Great Skillful Means states: "The bodhisattva shaved his own head and temples. None of the devas, nāgas, or spirits could see his crown, how much less could they remove his hair? The bodhisattva thought that King Śuddhodana would harbour resentment and ask, 'Who shaved my son's head?' Therefore he shaved it himself; only then was the king silent. This was his skillful means."