付法藏因緣傳 4.4

4.4

The people of the city drove the husband and wife far away. Wandering from place to place, they made their way toward Pāṭaliputra, playing the lute and begging for alms to sustain themselves. At last they arrived at the royal palace and stayed within the elephant stables, where, plucking the lute and singing clearly, he proclaimed his sufferings. Hearing the music, the king seemed to recognize it, and sent someone to see; it was Kuṇāla. The king immediately summoned him inside. Having seen his son, the king fainted and fell to the ground, weeping aloud and trembling all over. He asked Kuṇāla, “Who ruined your eyes? Tell me at once! I shall punish their crime.” Kuṇāla said, “Did father not hear? Formerly, even the Tathāgata underwent the retributions of karma. Retributions such as these possess exceedingly great power. Among all the noble sages, the honored and noble, the poor and lowly, there is no expedient means by which anyone can escape. Through my own past karma I have brought about this cruel calamity. Let the king not sorrow or distress himself, causing his mind to languish.” Although King Aśoka heard these words, his heart was still burned by the fire of grief. He spoke to his son again, saying, “Who destroyed your eyes? I shall butcher, dismember, and annihilate their body!” Inquiring from one to another, he learned of Tiṣyarakṣitā. The king at once summoned her and said to her, “What earth can bear you without swallowing you up? You were truly my enemy, falsely pretending intimacy from the outside. For what reason did you destroy my son’s eyes? Now, with a wheel of knives and a tree of swords, I shall chop your body to dust! I shall discard your corpse in a foul and filthy place, and pour dung-juice and vile poisons down your throat!” When Kuṇāla heard these words of the king, he gave rise to great compassion toward Tiṣyarakṣitā, and addressed his father, saying, “Through foolishness she committed this error and offense, and for this reason she is now disgraced and humiliated. The king is a wise man; how could you act like her? If you now wish to inflict vengeance upon her, you will surely harm each other as enemies for kalpas on end. Turning about like this, when would it ever end? The great king should know: just as an echo immediately answers to a sound, this body is likewise the reason suffering exists. Moreover, this body is the root of all evils; that is why all Buddhas constantly urge us to abandon it. If this body were definitively peaceful and blissful, why would the wise constantly give rise to aversion toward it? Viewed in this light, the body is the root of suffering, the accumulation of immeasurable evils. May the great king listen: just as an infant in the world does not yet know principle and righteousness, and reviles its parents without a mind of humility and respect, would those parents ever give rise to hatred toward their child? All sentient beings are also like this: constantly covered and obscured by afflictions, they are foolish and without wisdom, just like young children. How could one give rise to anger toward them?” The king’s heart was exceedingly fierce and cruel, and he would not accept his words; gathering a great heap of firewood and oil, he burned her to death. At that time, the assembly questioned Upagupta: “For what reason was this prince born into a noble family yet had his eyes gouged out?” The venerable one told them, “Listen well, and I shall explain. Formerly, in Vārāṇasī, there was a hunter who went to the Snowy Mountains and encountered a hailstorm. Five hundred deer all entered into a single cave. The hunter wished to kill them all, but then thought: ‘If I kill them all, they will rot and stink. Let me rather gouge out their eyes and eat them gradually.’ Thereupon he gouged out the eyes of the five hundred deer. Due to this cause, down to the present he has undergone this retribution. Furthermore, long ago, after Krakucchanda Buddha had passed into extinction, the king of that country at the time was named Duanyan (Subhavyūha). He collected the Buddha’s relics and raised a seven-jeweled stūpa. Later there was another king whose mind was without reverent faith; he dismantled the stūpa, took the jewels, and left only earth and timber. The people of the entire country all wept and wailed. A son of an elder came and asked the reason, and the people answered, saying, ‘The jeweled stūpa of Krakuc[chanda] Buddha has been destroyed; for this reason we weep.’ When the elder’s son heard this, he immediately repaired and decorated it as before, and made an image of that Buddha with wondrous primary and secondary marks. He then made a vow, saying, ‘May I in a future life attain supreme liberation just like that World-Honored One!’ Due to this karma, he was born into a noble family and attained pure and wondrous fruit.” The retinue of King Aśoka was like this; they all laid down their heavy burdens and all escaped birth and death. The king’s faithful mind was deep, far-reaching, and difficult to measure. Whenever he saw śramaṇas, whether senior or junior, he would go out to greet them, inquire after them, and pay homage with reverence. At that time there was a minister named Yaśa, who was without reverent faith and ablaze with wrong views; he said, “King Aśoka is utterly lacking in wisdom, humiliating his noble virtue to bow down to young novices.” When the king heard this, he ordered his ministers to search for the heads of a hundred beasts, making Yaśa alone seek a human head. Having received the king’s command, they all searched; having obtained them, they all came and presented them to the king. The king ordered them to take them to the market to display and sell. Before long, all the heads were sold; of Yaśa’s human head, there was no buyer at all. After several days, it was about to rot and stink. He addressed the great king, saying, “This head is difficult to sell; no one even wishes to look at it, much less buy it.” The king asked Yaśa, “What thing is most noble?” He replied, “Great King, man is superior.” The king said, “If man is superior, why was it not sold?” Yaśa replied, “Although a human life is noble, in death it is base and vile.” The king said, “Is my head the same as this or not?” Yaśa, terrified, looked down and looked up, then answered, saying, “The king’s head is also just as vile as this.” The king said, “If my head is base and vile, why do you wonder at my paying reverent homage to young novices? If you are my true good spiritual friend, you ought to urge me to trade a fragile head for an indestructible head. Why do you now stop me from doing good?” Only then did the minister Yaśa reproach himself, change his errant mind, and faithfully revere the Three Jewels. Later, at one time, the king asked Upagupta, “Formerly, when the Buddha was in the world, who gave the greatest gifts?” The venerable one replied, “The elder Sudatta gave exceedingly vast gifts, offering gold amounting to one hundred billion to the Tathāgata.” The king thought to himself, “He was still able to give so many precious treasures; how could I today fail to equal him?” He then calculated the things he had previously given, which came to ninety-six billion ounces of gold. Just then, he fell gravely ill and knew his life was about to end; he then wept and gave rise to great anguish. There was a minister named Rādha[gupta], who was the very boy who had rejoiced in his merit on that earlier day. Due to this merit, he had become a prime minister. His wisdom was profound and broad, and he was skilled in speech. Seeing the king sorrowful and distressed, he joined his palms and said, “Just as when the sun is at its height all gaze up to it, the king’s flourishing virtue is also like this, revered by all alike. Now that the king has fallen ill, it is like the sun about to set; among the people of the state, none are not sorrowful and fearful. The great king should now listen to what I say. The three realms are impermanent, flowing and shifting without staying; whether young, robust, or old, all will ultimately return to destruction. It is like stone mountains closing in from all four directions—what wise person could ever escape? Sentient beings of the world are also like this: having received a body of the five aggregates, the mountain of death comes to press upon them. Even if one were to devise hundreds of thousands of expedients, and with various spells hide away and flee, none have ever been seen who could escape this affliction. Therefore one should know that the world is entirely impermanent; that which meets must part. You should deeply contemplate this principle. You ought to restrain yourself; why should you sorrow and lament?” The king told the minister, “I do not fear death or begrudge precious treasures. It is simply that I am parting from the noble assembly, and of the hundred billion pieces of gold to be given, four billion are still lacking. It is for this reason that I weep.” Rādha[gupta] said, “The storehouses are very abundant; you may give them to make up the full amount.” King Aśoka immediately gave the seven jewels to Kukkuṭārāma monastery, and established Kuṇāla’s son Śamatha as crown prince. Evil ministers of wrong views said to the crown prince, “King Aśoka’s life is about to end, and he is scattering the various storehouses. If you succeed to the throne, you will have no resources to use. You should now cut this off and not follow his intention.” Then Śamatha, believing and accepting their errant words, sent food to the king on a single gold platter. The king immediately redirected it as an offering to Kukkuṭārāma monastery. Later, they brought food to the king in an earthenware vessel containing only half an āmalaka fruit. The king summoned his ministers and asked them, “Who is the master of this Jambudvīpa?” The ministers replied, “The king alone reigns over it.” He answered, “Not so. I have mastery only over this half an āmalaka fruit.” He then said, “Alas! Wealth and nobility are utterly detestable and vile! Glory and position are like illusions, dispersing and vanishing before long. Though dwelling in honor and renown, one ultimately falls. I was the emperor of men, my majesty and virtue without equal; yet at the verge of death I am impoverished, having only half a fruit. Thus I know that the world is entirely false and deceptive, which fools relish but the noble sages reproach!” Thereupon he spoke a verse to his ministers, saying: