宋高僧傳 20.6

20.6

釋無著，永嘉人也，識度寬明，秉操貞礭。留神大道，約志遊方，抵于京師雲華寺，就澄觀法師研習華嚴之教。凡諸經論，志極旁通，然於華藏海，終誓遨遊。以大曆二年入五臺山，肆欲觀聖人之境界。五月，到華嚴寺挂錫。始於堂中啜茶，見老僧寢陋，據北床問曰：「子從南方來，還齎數珠請看。」著乃躬度之。迴視之間，失僧之所。于時神情𢠵恍，疑喜交生，曰：「昔僧明入此，覩石臼木杵，後得入聖寺獲見聖賢。我願止此，其為快乎！」次由般若經樓見吉祥鳥羽毛蒨絢，雙飛于頂上，望東北鼓翼而去。明日有白光兩穗，入戶悠颺，少頃而滅。同房僧法等見而驚怪，言曰：「此何祥也？願期再現，斷眾生疑。」尋覩光如前。因往金剛窟，望中致禮，方坐假寐，聞叱牛三聲云：「飲水。」一翁古貌瓌形，服麁短褐，曳麻屨，巾裹甚異。著乃迎執其手，問「從何來？」翁曰：「山外求糧用來。」「居在何地？」云：「求糧用在臺山。」翻質著云：「師何戾止？」答曰：「聞此有金剛窟，故來隨喜。」翁曰：「師困耶？」答曰：「否。」曰：「既不困憊，何輒睡乎？」著曰：「凡夫昏沈，胡可怪哉？」曰：「師若昏沈，可去啜煮荈乎？」翁指東北，見精舍相距數步餘，翁牽牛前行，著躡躅而隨。至寺門，喚均提三聲，童子應唯開闔，年可十四、五，垂髮齊眉，衣褐襦。牽牛入寺，見其地盡是瑠璃，堂舍廊廡皆耀金色。其間華靡，非人間之制度。翁踞白牙床，指錦墩揖著坐。童子捧二甌茶，對飲畢。擎玳瑁器，滿中酥酪，各賦一匙。著咽之，如有所證，神府明豁，悟宿事焉。翁曰：「師出家來，何營何慮乎？」答曰：「有修無證，大小二乘，染指而已。」曰：「未知初出家時求何心？」著云：「求大乘菩提心。」曰：「師以初心修即得。」又問「齒臘幾何？」「三十一矣。」翁云：「師之純淑，年三十八則其福根荄植此地而榮茂歟！且徐徐下山，好尋道路，勿傷厥足。吾年老朽，從山外來，困極欲偃息也。」著請：「寓一宵可乎？」曰：「不可。緣師有兩伴相隨，今夜不見師歸，憂愁曷已？此乃師有執情在。」著曰：「瞿曇弟子有何執處？雖然有伴，不顧戀他。」又問：「持三衣否？」曰：「受戒已來持之。」曰：「此是封執處。」著曰：「亦有聖教在。若許住宿，心念捨之。脫有強緣，佛故聽許。」曰：「若依小乘，無難不得捨衣。宜從急護。」翁拂襟投袂而作，著亦趨行。翁曰：「聽吾宣偈『一念淨心是菩提，勝造恒沙七寶塔。寶塔究盡碎為塵，一念淨心成正覺。』」著俯聽凝神，謝曰：「蒙宣密偈，若飲醍醐。容入智門，敢忘指決。丈人可謂知言，銘刻心府。」翁喚均提可送師去。臨行拊背曰：「好去。」著再折腰，與童子駢肩齊步，至金剛窟前，問童子：「此何伽藍，不懸題額？」童子指金剛窟反問著云：「伊何窟乎？」曰：「先代相傳，名金剛窟」童子曰：「金剛下有何字？」著惟忖少選曰：「金剛下有般若。」童子唍爾，「適入者般若寺也。」著携童子手，揖顧而別。童子瞠目視著，如欲吐辭。著曰：「送我可以言代縞帶與玉玦乎？」童子遂宣偈㖟云：「面上無瞋供養具，口裏無瞋吐妙香，心裏無瞋是珍寶，無染無垢是真常。」偈終，恍惚之間，童子及聖寺俱滅，唯見山林土石。悢悢盈懷，歔欷不已，歎曰：「緒言餘論，若笙鏞之末響，猶在乎耳。」諦觀山翁立處，有白雲冉冉湧起，去地尋常許，變成五色雲霓，上有大聖乘師子而諸菩薩圍遶。食頃，東方白雲一段，漸遮菩薩面，群像與雲偕滅。著倏見汾州菩提寺主僧修政等六人，相將還至窟前作禮。忽聞山石振吼，聲如霹靂，諸僧奔走。良久，寂無所覩。著遂陳遭遇，六人悔責不見聖容，咫尺綿邈，知罪障之屏翳歟！著遂隱此山而終。元和中門人文一追述焉。

Shi Wuzhuo was a native of Yongjia. His capacity and understanding were broad and luminous, and his adherence to moral integrity was firm and unyielding. Setting his mind on the Great Way and disciplining his intentions, he traveled through various regions. Reaching Yunhua Temple in the capital, he studied the teachings of Huayan under Dharma Master Chengguan. Regarding all scriptures and treatises, his ambition was to master them comprehensively, yet he vowed ultimately to roam within the ocean of the Flower Storehouse. In the second year of Dali, he entered Mount Wutai, with a great desire to behold the realm of the sagely ones. In the fifth month, he arrived at Huayan Temple and hung up his staff. When he first sipped tea in the hall, he saw an old monk, ugly in appearance, sitting on the north bench, who asked: "You have come from the south; have you brought your rosary? Please show it to me." Zhuo then personally handed it to him. In the glance of turning his head, the monk's whereabouts were lost. At that moment his spirit was in a daze, doubt and joy arising alternately, and he said: "In the past, when the monk Ming entered here, he saw a stone mortar and a wooden pestle, and later was able to enter the sagely temple and gain audience with the sages. If my wish is to abide here, how delightful it would be!" Next, from the Prajñā Sūtra Pavilion, he saw an auspicious bird whose plumage was bright and radiant, flying in a pair above his crown, which flapped its wings and flew off toward the northeast. On the next day, there were two plumes of white light that fluttered into the doorway and vanished after a short while. The monk Fadeng, who shared his room, saw it and was astonished, saying: "What auspicious omen is this? May it appear once more to cut off the doubts of sentient beings!" Soon they saw the light just as before. Zhuo thereupon went to the Diamond Cave and paid homage from afar. Just as he sat down to doze, he heard three shouts driving an ox, saying: "Drink water." An old man of ancient appearance and noble stature, wearing a coarse short tunic and hemp sandals, with a most unusual head-cloth, [appeared]. Zhuo then went forward to grasp his hand and asked, "Where do you come from?" The old man said, "I have come from outside the mountain seeking grain and supplies." "Where is your dwelling?" He said, "Seeking grain and supplies on Mount Tai." In turn, he questioned Zhuo, saying: "Why has the master come here?" He replied: "I heard there is a Diamond Cave here, so I came to rejoice [in its presence]." The old man asked, "Are you tired, Master?" He answered, "No." The old man asked, "Since you are not weary, why were you dozing?" Zhuo said, "Ordinary mortals are prone to torpor; how could that be strange?" The old man said, "If you are in torpor, Master, can you go sip brewed tea?" The old man pointed toward the northeast; a monastic compound was visible only a few paces away. The old man led the ox forward, and Zhuo followed closely behind. Arriving at the temple gate, he called "Junti" three times. A novice answered "Yes" and opened the doors; he was about fourteen or fifteen years of age, with hair hanging down to his eyebrows, wearing a coarse tunic. Leading the ox into the temple, Zhuo saw that its ground was entirely vaiḍūrya, and the halls, chambers, and verandas all shone with golden light. The splendor within was not of any human design. The old man sat on an ivory couch and pointed to a brocade cushion, inviting Zhuo to sit. The novice offered two bowls of tea, and when they had finished drinking together, he held up a tortoiseshell vessel full of clotted cream and gave one spoonful to each. When Zhuo swallowed it, it was as if he had attained realization; the chamber of his spirit became clear and open, and he awakened to past affairs. The old man asked: "Since you went forth from the household life, Master, what have you striven for and what have you contemplated?" He replied: "There was practice but no realization; as for the two vehicles, Great and Small, I merely dipped my fingers in them." The old man asked: "I wonder what kind of mind you sought when you first went forth from the household?" Zhuo said: "I sought the bodhicitta of the Great Vehicle." The old man said: "If you practice with your initial aspiration, Master, you will attain it." He also asked: "What is your age and saṅgha age?" "Thirty-one." The old man said: "With your purity and goodness, Master, when you reach the age of thirty-eight, the root of your blessings will surely be planted in this soil and flourish luxuriantly! For now, descend the mountain slowly, take good care in finding the path, and do not injure your feet. I am old and decrepit, having come from outside the mountain, and being utterly exhausted, I wish to lie down and rest." Zhuo requested: "Would it be permissible to stay for one night?" The old man said: "It is not permissible. Because you, Master, have two companions following you; if they do not see you return tonight, how can their worry come to an end? This shows that you still retain attachments." Zhuo said: "What attachment can a disciple of Gautama have? Although there are companions, I do not look back upon them with longing." He asked further: "Do you keep the three robes?" Zhuo replied: "I have kept them ever since receiving the precepts." The old man said: "This is where attachment lies." Zhuo said: "There are also sagely teachings for it. If allowed to lodge, in mind I would relinquish them. If there should be compelling circumstances, the Buddha indeed permitted it." The old man said: "If following the Small Vehicle, one may not relinquish the robes unless in dire straits. You should follow what urgent protection demands." The old man brushed his robes, shook his sleeves, and stood up; Zhuo also hastened his steps. The old man said: "Listen to my gāthā: / 'A single thought of pure mind is bodhi, / Surpassing the building of seven-jeweled stūpas numerous as the sands of the Gaṅgā. / The jeweled stūpas ultimately crumble into dust, / But a single thought of pure mind accomplishes right awakening.'" Zhuo bowed his head, listened, and focused his spirit, thanking him: "Receiving the recitation of your secret gāthā is like drinking the finest ghee. Having been permitted to enter the gate of wisdom, how could I dare forget your instructions? You, Elder, can truly be said to understand words; they are engraved upon my heart." The old man called Junti to escort the master away. When they were about to part, he patted Zhuo on the back, saying: "Go well." Zhuo bowed again from the waist and walked shoulder to shoulder with the novice. Arriving before the Diamond Cave, he asked the novice: "What monastery is this, that hangs no signboard?" The novice pointed to the Diamond Cave and asked Zhuo in turn: "What cave is that?" Zhuo said: "Transmitted through former generations, its name is Diamond Cave." The novice asked: "What words follow after 'Diamond'?" Zhuo pondered for a short while and said: "After 'Diamond' is 'Prajñā'." The novice smiled: "The one you just entered is the Prajñā Temple." Zhuo took the novice's hand, bowed, turned, and took his leave. The novice stared at Zhuo as if wishing to utter words. Zhuo said: "Can you send me off with words in place of silk sashes and jade ornaments?" The novice then uttered a gāthā to instruct him: / "Freedom from anger on the face is an offering vessel; / Freedom from anger in the mouth emits exquisite fragrance; / Freedom from anger in the mind is a precious jewel; / Freedom from defilement and taint is the truly constant." When the gāthā ended, in an instant, both the novice and the sagely temple vanished; he saw only the mountain forest, soil, and rocks. Sorrow filled his heart and he wept incessantly, sighing: "The leftover words and lingering discourses, like the dying echoes of panpipes and chimes, are still in my ears!" Looking carefully at the place where the mountain elder had stood, white clouds billowed up gently; about eight feet above the ground, they transformed into five-colored clouds and rainbow mist. Above, the Great Sage [Mañjuśrī] was mounted on a lion, surrounded by bodhisattvas. In the space of a meal, a stretch of white cloud from the east gradually concealed the bodhisattva's face, and the assembly of images vanished along with the cloud. Zhuo suddenly saw the abbot of Bodhi Temple in Fenzhou, Xiuzheng, and others—six people in all—who came together to pay homage before the cave. Suddenly they heard the mountain rocks roar and shake with a sound like a thunderclap, and the monks ran away. After a long while, all was silent and nothing could be seen. Zhuo then recounted his encounter. The six men reproached themselves for not having seen the sagely countenance; separated by only an inch yet as distant as can be, they recognized how their sinful obstructions had obscured their vision! Zhuo then lived in seclusion on this mountain until his death. During the Yuanhe era, his disciple Wenyi composed a retrospective account of him.