大唐故三藏玄奘法師行狀 1.2.1

1.2.1

貞觀三年。 將欲首塗。 又求祥應。 乃夜夢見大海中。 有蘇迷盧山。 極為麗嚴。 意欲登山。 而洪濤汹湧。 不以為懼。 乃決意而入。 忽見蓮花。 踊乎波外。 應足而生。 須臾至山。 又峻峭不可上。 踊身自騰。 有搏飇。 扶而上昇。 至頂。 四望廓然。 無復擁礙。 喜而寤焉。 遂即行矣。 時年二十九也。 時有秦川僧孝達。 在京學畢還鄉。 法師與同去。 展轉遂達爪州。 訪西路好惡。 皆云。 流沙無路。 行人多結伴侶。 看牛馬糞及遺骸為標幟。 風驚沙起。 骸骨亦平。 唯多起風魑魅之類。 東西八百餘里。 欲孤行者。 終不可達。 聞已愁憤。 不知其計。 乃禮佛求願。 願得一人。 相引過關。 即玉門關也。 關抌胡盧河。 關西百里。 有一烽。 烽下有水。 凡有五烽。 五烽之外。 無復戍邏。 皆長磧耳。 又乃訪得一胡。 許送過關。 臨時復退。 強憑之乃行。 夜至河。 離關十餘里。 上源有胡桐樹。 胡乃斬木為橋。 布草填沙。 驅馬而過。 即渡河。 心極歡喜。 各下褥而眠。 夜半。 胡乃起。 抽刀行向法師欲為屠害。 法師即起念佛誦經。 胡人還坐。 少時復起。 謂法師曰。 國家法。 私向外國。 罪名極重。 前五烽路。 遊其下必被他投。 終無得免。 但一處被擒即死人。 弟子亦有家累。 何能當之。 王法不可干。 共師還去。 法師報曰。 奘只可向西而死。 誓不東歸而生。 檀越不能者任還。 奘獨自去。 胡曰。 師被他投。 還相牽引。 終不免罪。 法師為設重誓。 縱令身碎為塵。 終不相引。 為指天地星月重言。 胡乃辭別法師。 與馬一匹而去。 於是夜發。 至第一烽。 水邊飲馬。 少時。 飛箭頻來。 幾著於膝。 既知他覺。 急即向之。 烽上人將火問。 是何人。 欲何所去。 乃去帽現其法服。 報云。 從京師來。 欲求法於婆羅門國。 人將上烽見校尉。 校尉深相責問。 法師具陳行意。 聲淚俱下。 彼亦慜然垂泣云。 師能如是任師去。 儻如所願。 亦國家之益。 師且臥。 於是安置。 天曉為設食。 更施[麩-夫+少]糧。 自送十餘里云。 師勿過餘烽。 第五烽外。 有野馬泉。 可更取水去。 法師過第五烽。 遇風沙大起。 不知泉處。 日暗。 傍一沙溝住。 下水欲飲。 馬袋重失。 手覆之。 纔得一飲之直。 餘並傾失。 千里之資。 此時頓盡。 煩惱亦何可言。 三更後復行。 不知道路。 唯西北望星月而進。 至明午後。 已大渴之。 雖有[麩-夫+少]餅。 乾不能食。 如是四夜五日。 無一渧霑喉。 人馬俱困。 不能復行。 遂臥沙中。 默念觀音。 不能發語。 氣殆將絕。 至第五夜。 忽有涼風。 非常冷快。 體得醒悟。 馬亦能起。 復強行二十餘里。 還臥不能去。 夢一大神。 告之強行。 何為復臥。 於是復起。 馬忽異路而去。 迴之不得。 行可十許里。 遂遇一池。 清冷澄澈。 非常歡喜。 便飲馬。 自復澡嗽。 又取[麩-夫+少]剉飼馬。 池側亦有青草。 比明馬健。 人復解齊。 更一日一夜。 就水將息。 後日盛水漸進。 更經三日。 方達伊吾。 於流沙北維之外。 復逢鬼魅。 日有數般。 困弊難艱。 免難為記述。 既至伊吾。 逢高昌使人。 還向其王說法師來意。 王大喜歡。 遣人將駝來迎。 復到高昌。 相見悲喜。 王欲留法師。 不聽西去。 法師乃不食四日。 以盛動之。 王意亦迴。 王母妃願結母子。 王願為兄弟。 許者任師去。 法師相許。 王歡喜請講仁王經。 并為度沙彌四人。 造法服數十具。 差達官。 將安革馬。 手力倍送。 又修二十四封書。 與突厥葉護可汗等諸國。 并附絞練五百餘匹。 令遞送云。 法師者。 是奴弟。

In the third year of Zhenguan, about to set out on his journey, he again sought an auspicious response. He then dreamed at night that in the midst of a great ocean there was Mount Sumeru, exceedingly splendid and magnificent. He wished to climb the mountain, but the surging billows were tossing wildly. Feeling no fear, he resolved to enter. Suddenly he saw lotus flowers spring up from the waves, arising wherever his feet fell. In a moment he reached the mountain, yet it was steep and precipitous, impossible to climb. He leapt upward, and a whirlwind supported and carried him aloft. Arriving at the peak, he looked around in all four directions, finding it completely open and without obstruction. He awoke with joy, and thereupon set forth. He was twenty-nine years old at the time. At that time there was a monk from Qinchuan named Xiaoda who, having completed his studies in the capital, was returning to his hometown. The Dharma Master traveled with him, and journeying stage by stage, they arrived at Guazhou. Inquiring about the conditions of the western road, everyone said: 'The Drifting Sands have no paths; travelers mostly band together, taking ox and horse dung as well as skeletal remains as markers. When fierce winds stir the sand, even the skeletons are buried level. Moreover, winds often stir up demons and sprites of all kinds. For more than eight hundred li east to west, anyone wishing to travel alone can never reach [the destination].' Hearing this, he felt sorrow and vexation, not knowing what strategy to take. He then worshipped the Buddha and prayed, wishing to find a person to guide him across the pass—namely, Yumen Pass. The pass borders the Hulu River. A hundred li west of the pass there is a beacon tower, and beneath the beacon tower there is water. In all there are five beacon towers; beyond the five beacon towers, there are no more garrisons and patrols—it is all vast desert. He then found a barbarian (Hu) who agreed to escort him across the pass. When the time came, the man backed out, but [Xuanzang] pressed him strongly, and so they set out. At night they reached the river, more than ten li from the pass. At the upper reaches there were desert poplars (*Populus euphratica*); the barbarian felled trees to make a bridge, spread grass, and filled it with sand to drive the horse across. Having crossed the river, they were exceedingly joyful, and each laid down his mat to sleep. At midnight, the barbarian arose, drew his knife, and walked toward the Dharma Master wishing to slaughter him. The Dharma Master immediately arose, recollected the Buddha, and recited sūtras. The barbarian sat back down. A short while later he arose again and said to the Dharma Master: 'Under the state's laws, secretly traveling to foreign lands carries an exceedingly heavy penalty. On the road past the five beacon towers, traveling beneath them will surely get you caught; there is no escaping it. Being captured at just one place means death! I have family obligations; how could I bear it? The king's law must not be transgressed—let us return together, Master.' The Dharma Master replied: 'Xuanzang can only die facing west; I vow never to live by returning east. If the benefactor cannot go on, he is free to return; Xuanzang will go alone.' The barbarian said: 'If the Master is caught, you will inevitably implicate me, and in the end I will not escape punishment.' The Dharma Master made a solemn oath for him: 'Even if my body is shattered to dust, I will never implicate you!' He pointed to heaven and earth, stars and moon, repeating his words. The barbarian then bid farewell to the Dharma Master, gave him a horse, and departed. Thereupon he set out by night and reached the first beacon tower. As he was watering his horse by the water, in a short while, arrows flew thick and fast, almost striking his knee. Realizing he had been detected, he quickly went toward them. The men atop the beacon tower held torches and asked: 'Who are you, and where do you wish to go?' He then removed his cap to reveal his monastic robes and replied: 'I come from the capital, wishing to seek the Dharma in the Brāhmaṇa country.' The men took him up to the beacon tower to see the commandant. The commandant questioned and reproached him severely. The Dharma Master recounted the purpose of his journey in detail, his tears falling along with his voice. The commandant, moved to pity, also shed tears and said: 'If the Master is capable of this, you are free to go. If your wish is fulfilled, it will also benefit the state. For now, Master, please rest.' Thereupon he lodged him. At dawn, he prepared food for him, further gave him roasted-grain provisions, and personally escorted him for more than ten li, saying: 'Master, do not pass by the other beacon towers. Beyond the fifth beacon tower is the Wild Horse Spring (Yemaquan); you can draw more water there and continue.' The Dharma Master passed beyond the fifth beacon tower and encountered a great sandstorm, losing track of where the spring was. As daylight faded, he stopped beside a sand gully and took down his water skin wishing to drink. The horse pack was heavy, his hand slipped, and it overturned; he obtained barely a single drink, while all the rest was spilled and lost. His provisions for a thousand li were exhausted in an instant. How could his distress even be expressed? After the third watch he set out again, knowing no road, only advancing by looking northwest toward the stars and moon. By the afternoon of the next day, he was already severely parched. Although he had roasted grain cakes, they were too dry to eat. For four nights and five days like this, not a single drop moistened his throat. Both man and horse were utterly exhausted and could no longer walk; he then lay down in the sand, silently recollecting Avalokiteśvara, unable to speak, his breath almost expired. On the fifth night, a cool wind suddenly blew, extraordinarily refreshing and cold. His body revived to consciousness, and the horse was also able to stand. He forced himself to walk for more than twenty li, but lay down again, unable to go on. He dreamed of a great spirit who said to him: 'Strive on! Why are you lying down again?' Thereupon he arose again. The horse suddenly took a different path and could not be turned back. Traveling about ten li, he came upon a pool, clear, cold, and transparent. He was overjoyed. He watered the horse, washed and rinsed himself, and took chopped straw and roasted grain to feed the horse. Beside the pool there was also green grass. By dawn, the horse was strong again, and the man also felt restored. He rested beside the water for another day and night. On the following day, having filled up with water, he gradually advanced. Passing three more days, he finally reached Yiwu. Beyond the northern quadrant of the Drifting Sands, he again encountered demons and spirits, several kinds every day; he was so exhausted and beset with hardships that they can hardly be recorded. Having arrived in Yiwu, he met an envoy from Gaochang, who returned and reported the Dharma Master's intentions to his king. The king was greatly pleased and sent men with camels to welcome him. Arriving in Gaochang, they met with both sorrow and joy. The king wished to detain the Dharma Master and would not permit him to go west. The Dharma Master then fasted for four days to move him deeply. The king's mind was also changed; the Queen Mother wished to form a mother-and-son bond, and the king wished to become brothers, saying that if he agreed, the Master would be free to depart. The Dharma Master agreed. The king joyfully requested him to lecture on the Kāruṇikarāja Sūtra, ordained four novices for him, and made dozens of sets of Dharma robes. He dispatched high officials with saddled horses and doubled the porters to escort him. He also composed twenty-four letters to various states such as that of the Turk Yabghu Qaghan, accompanied by more than five hundred bolts of damask and raw silk, ordering them to escort him from stage to stage, stating: 'This Dharma Master is my younger brother.'