釋門自鏡錄 1.97

1.97

釋智達。未詳何許人也。雖預道門行頗留俗。以永徽三年六月病死身暖不殮。遂延二日氣息稍還。至三日而能言。自說始困。時見兩人皆著黃布袴褶。一人立于戶外。一人逕造床前。曰上人應去可下地也。達曰貧道體羸不堪涉道。此人曰。可乘輿也。尋而輿至。達既昇之。意識恍然不復見家人屋舍及所乘輿。四望極目但覩荒野途逕艱危。二人驅之不得休息。至于朱門牆闥甚華。達入至堂下。堂上有一貴人。朱衣冠幘據傲床座。姿貌嚴遠甚有威容。左右兵衛百許。人皆朱衣柱刀列直森然。貴人見達乃斂顏正色曰。出家之人何宜多過。達曰。有識以來不憶作罪。問曰。誦戒廢不。達曰。初受具戒之時實常誦集。比逐齋講恒事轉經。故於是有虧廢。復曰。沙門時不誦戒此極非法。貴人勅向錄達人曰。可送置惡處。勿令大苦。二人引達將去行數十里。稍聞轟磕其聲沸天。而前路轉闇。次至一門高數十丈。色甚堅黑蓋鐵門也。牆亦如此。達心自念。經說地獄此其是矣。乃大恐怖悔在世時不修業行。及入門裏撓聲轉壯。久久靜聽方知是人叫呼之響。時有火光乍滅乍揚。見數人反縛趨進。後有數人執扠刺之。流血如泉。入門二百步許。見有一物。形如米囤。可高丈餘。二人執達擲置囤上。囤裏有火焰燒達身。半體皆爛。痛不可忍。自囤墜地。悶絕良久。二人復將達去。見有鐵鑊十餘。皆煮罪人。人在鑊中隨沸出沒。側有人以扠刺之。或有攀鑊出者。兩目潰突舌出尺餘。肉盡折爛而猶不死。諸鑊皆滿。唯一尚空。二人曰上人即時應入此鑊。達聞其言肝膽塗地。乃請之曰。君聽貧道暫時禮佛。便至心稽首願免此苦。伏地食頃祈悔特至。既而四望無所復見。唯覩平原茂樹風景清明。而二人猶導達行至一樓下。樓形高小上有人。謂曰。沙門受輕報殊可欣也。達於樓下忽然不覺還就身時。

The monk Zhida: it is not known where he was from. Although he had entered the monastic path, his conduct was quite attached to worldly ways. In the sixth month of the third year of the Yonghui era, he died of illness, yet his body remained warm and was not encoffined. After an interval of two days, his breath gradually returned, and by the third day he was able to speak. He recounted that when he first fell critically ill, he saw two men, both wearing yellow cloth trousers and tunic. One stood outside the door, while the other walked straight up before the bed and said: "Venerable Sir, you must go; you may step down to the ground." Zhida said: "This poor monk is physically frail and cannot endure travelling the road." The man said: "You may ride in a carriage." Soon after, a carriage arrived. Once Zhida had mounted it, his consciousness grew blurred, and he no longer saw his family's house or the carriage he rode. Looking around as far as his eyes could see, he beheld only a desolate wilderness with hazardous paths. The two men drove him on without allowing him to rest. They arrived at a vermilion gate whose walls and portals were exceedingly magnificent. Zhida entered and reached the base of the hall. Upon the hall was an eminent man in vermilion robes and a ceremonial cap, sitting haughtily upon a couch. His appearance was stern and aloof, possessing great awe-inspiring majesty. Flanking him were about a hundred guards, all in vermilion robes, leaning on swords and lined up in imposing ranks. Seeing Zhida, the eminent man composed his countenance and said sternly: "Why should a renitant have so many transgressions?" Zhida said: "Since I gained awareness, I do not recall committing sins." He was asked: "Have you neglected the recitation of the precepts or not?" Zhida said: "When I first received the full precepts, I truly recited them constantly with the assembly. Lately, following vegetarian feasts and lectures, I have constantly occupied myself with chanting sūtras; thus in this matter I have been deficient and neglected them." He said further: "For a monk at times not to recite the precepts is exceedingly contrary to the Dharma." The eminent man ordered the men who had recorded Zhida: "You may take him and place him in an evil place, but do not let him suffer extreme torment." The two men led Zhida away, walking for several tens of li. Gradually they heard a crashing roar whose clamour surged to the heavens, while the road ahead turned darker. Next they reached a gate several tens of fathoms high, of an exceedingly hard and black colour—it was an iron gate. The walls were likewise. Zhida thought to himself: "The sūtras speak of hell; surely this is it!" Thereupon, greatly terrified, he regretted that during his life he had not cultivated karmic practices. When he entered through the gate, the clamour grew louder. Only after listening quietly for a long time did he realise that it was the sound of human screams and wailing. At times flames flared and died. He saw several men with hands tied behind their backs rushing forward, while behind them several men held forks and stabbed them, blood flowing like a spring. Advancing about two hundred paces past the gate, he saw an object shaped like a rice granary-basket, perhaps a fathom or more in height. The two men seized Zhida and threw him atop the basket. Within the basket were flames that burned Zhida's body until half of it was completely putrefied, the pain unbearable. Falling from the basket to the ground, he was senseless for a long while. The two men took Zhida away again, and he saw more than ten iron cauldrons, all boiling sinners. The people in the cauldrons rose and sank with the boiling water. At their sides were people stabbing them with forks. Some clambered out of the cauldrons: their two eyes burst forth, their tongues hung out more than a foot, their flesh was utterly torn and rotting, yet they still did not die. All the cauldrons were full; only one remained empty. The two men said: "Venerable Sir, you must enter this cauldron at once." Hearing these words, Zhida was scared out of his wits. Thereupon he pleaded with them, saying: "Sirs, allow this poor monk to briefly pay homage to the Buddha!" He then bowed his head with utter sincerity, praying to be spared this suffering. Lying prostrate on the ground for the duration of a meal, he prayed and repented with supreme sincerity. Soon after, he looked in all directions and saw nothing of it anymore; he only beheld a flat plain, lush trees, and a clear, bright landscape. The two men still guided Zhida, walking until they reached the foot of a tower. The tower was tall and small; atop it was a person who said to him: "Monk, to receive such a light retribution is truly something to rejoice over!" At the foot of the tower, Zhida suddenly and unconsciously returned to his body.