釋迦譜 2.30

2.30

The Buddha then took Nanda to the hells. He saw cauldrons of boiling liquid, all of them boiling human beings. He saw only a single cauldron boiling and bubbling, standing empty. Wondering why this was so, he came and asked the Buddha. The Buddha told him, “Go and ask yourself.” Nanda immediately went and asked the hell warden, “The other cauldrons are all boiling and punishing sinners; why is this cauldron empty with nothing being boiled?” He replied, “In Jambudvīpa, there is a younger brother of the Tathāgata named Nanda. Through the merit of having gone forth as a monk, he will be born in heaven. But because of his intention to abandon the path, when his heavenly life-span ends he will fall into this hell. Therefore I am now boiling this cauldron and awaiting Nanda.” Nanda was terrified, fearing that the hell warden would detain him, and immediately said, “Namo Buddhāya! Namo Buddhāya! I pray only that you protect me and take me back to Jambudvīpa.” The Buddha said to Nanda, “Diligently uphold the precepts and cultivate your heavenly blessings.” Nanda replied, “I have no use for being born in heaven; now I only pray that I do not fall into this hell.” The Buddha preached the Dharma for him, and within seven days he became an arhat. The bhikṣus praised, saying, “The World-Honoured One’s appearance in the world is truly marvelous, truly extraordinary!” The Buddha said, “Not only today; it was also like this in the past.” The bhikṣus said, “It was also thus in the past? What happened? Please explain it to us.” The Buddha said: “Long ago, the king of the kingdom of Kāśi was named Full Face. In the kingdom of Videha there was a courtesan, exceptionally beautiful and exquisite. At that time the two countries were constantly hostile and envious of each other. A flattering minister nearby praised her to the king of Kāśi, saying that the other kingdom had a courtesan whose beauty was rare in the world. Hearing these words, the king’s heart became infatuated. He sent an envoy to request her, but that kingdom would not give her. He sent an envoy again, saying he sought only to see her briefly, and within four or five days he would send her back. The king of that country then instructed the courtesan, ‘All your charms and artistic skills must be fully displayed, so that the king of Kāśi becomes infatuated with you, unable to leave you for an instant.’ He then sent her away. After four or five days had passed, he soon summoned her back, saying, ‘I wish to hold a great sacrificial offering and must have this woman; let her return for a while, and she will be sent again later.’ The king of Kāśi then sent her back. When the great sacrifice was concluded, he sent an envoy to request her back. The reply was, ‘She will be sent tomorrow.’ When tomorrow came, she was still not sent. Thus through such lies many days passed. The king’s heart was infatuated; taking only a few men, he wished to go to that country. The ministers admonished him, but he refused to accept their advice. At that time, on Mount Ṛṣi there was a monkey king, intelligent, broad-minded, and possessing great knowledge. His mate having just died, he took another female monkey. The troop of monkeys were all enraged, scolding him: ‘This lustful monkey is the common property of the troop; why should you keep her solely for yourself?’ The monkey king then took the female monkey and fled to the kingdom of Kāśi, seeking refuge with the king. The troop of monkeys all pursued them. Arriving inside the city, they tore off roofs and broke down walls, causing uncontrollable disorder. The king of Kāśi said to the monkey king, ‘Why do you not now return the female monkey to the other monkeys?’ The monkey king said, ‘My mate died, and I have no other wife; why does the king now wish me to return her?’ The king said to him, ‘Now your monkeys are destroying and disordering my country; how can you not return her?’ The monkey king said, ‘Is such a thing bad?’ The king answered, ‘It is bad.’ After this was repeated two or three times, the king still said it was bad. The monkey king said, ‘You have eighty-four thousand ladies in your palace, yet you take no delight in them, wanting to go to an enemy country to pursue a courtesan. Now I have no wife and took only this one, and you say it is bad! All the myriad commoners look to you for their livelihood; how can you cast them aside for the sake of a single courtesan? Great King, you should know: the matters of sensual desire have little pleasure and much suffering, just like holding a blazing torch against the wind—a fool who does not let it go will surely be burned and harmed. Desires are impure, like a heap of dung; desires merely display an outward appearance, covered by thin skin; desires are treacherous, like a venomous snake smeared with dung; desires are like a bandit, falsely acting familiar and attaching himself to people; desires are like a loan that must be returned; desires are vile, like flowers growing in a latrine; desires are like scabies exposed to fire—the more one scratches, the worse it gets; desires are like a dog gnawing a dry bone, its saliva mixing with it so that it thinks it has flavor, breaking its lips and teeth without knowing satisfaction; desires are like a thirsty person drinking salty water, which only increases his thirst; desires are like a piece of meat competed for by a flock of birds; desires are like fish and beasts greedy for bait—their peril ending in death is exceedingly great. The monkey king at that time was myself; the king at that time was Nanda; and the courtesan at that time was Sundarī. At that time, I pulled Nanda out from the mire of sensual desire; now I have likewise pulled him out from the suffering of birth and death.”