眾經撰雜譬喻 2.34

2.34

Once, in the kingdom of Śrāvastī, it rained blood one morning over an area forty li square. The king and his ministers were exceedingly alarmed and astonished. He immediately summoned various masters of esoteric arts and diviners, ordering them to investigate whether it boded good or ill. A diviner replied: "The ancient records state: 'The calamity of raining blood portends the birth of a human python, a venomous and harmful creature.' We ought to search throughout the country to distinguish this calamity." The king asked: "How may we distinguish it?" The diviner said: "Human poison of this kind is difficult to recognise. As a test, decree that all newly born infants in the kingdom be brought here, and have each child spit into an empty jar." Among them was one child whose spittle immediately burst into flames upon entering the jar; they knew that this child was the human python. They deliberated, saying: "This [child] cannot remain among humankind; let him be moved at once to a deserted, hidden place where there are no people. Those in the kingdom who are condemned to die may be sent to him." The python spat poison and killed them; in this manner, seventy-two thousand people in all were killed by his poison. Later, a lion appeared and let out an earth-shaking roar; within forty li, people and animals cowered in terror, and no one could subdue the violent devastation that spread abroad. Thereupon the king offered a reward throughout the kingdom: whoever could drive off the lion would be given a thousand pieces of gold and enfeoffed with a district. No one responded. The ministers addressed the king: "Only the human python can drive it away." The king immediately ordered officers to go and summon the human python. Seeing the lion from afar, he went straight up before it and blew his poisonous breath upon the lion, which died instantly; its flesh decayed and dissolved away, and the country attained peace and tranquility. Sometime later, the human python grew old and fell ill, approaching the end of his life. The Buddha, pitying him for his grave sins, since once he fell into an evil path there would be no time of escape, said to Śāriputra: "Go and exhort him, so that he may escape this heavy retribution." Śāriputra then went to his home; by his supernatural power, he entered and suddenly stood before him. The human python flew into a great rage and thought: "I have not yet died, yet I am treated so lightly by others! Without even announcing himself, he comes straight in and stands before me!" He then spewed his poisonous breath, thinking it would harm him. Śāriputra repelled it with benevolence and wisdom; his radiant countenance grew even more splendid, and not a single hair was stirred. Three times he released his poisonous breath, yet none could harm him. He then recognised his venerable stature; his mind opened, wholesome thoughts arose, and with a benevolent heart he gazed up and down at Śāriputra seven times. Śāriputra then returned to the vihāra. Drawing in his breath, the human python died. On that very day, heaven and earth shook violently—the utmost good can shake heaven and earth, and the utmost evil can also shake them. At that time, the King of Magadha went to the Buddha's abode, bowed his head to the ground, and asked the World-Honoured One: "To what rebirth will the human python go upon the end of his life?" The Buddha said: "He is now born in the first heaven." Hearing the Buddha's words, the king wondered and asked the Buddha again: "How can a man of such great sins be born in heaven?" The Buddha said: "Because he looked upon Śāriputra with a benevolent heart, gazing up and down seven times, through this merit he was born in the first heaven. When that merit is exhausted, he will be born in the second heaven, and so on for seven cycles, after which he will become a pratyekabuddha and enter parinirvāṇa." The king addressed the Buddha: "Will he not have to repay the sin of killing seventy-two thousand people?" The Buddha said: "At the very end, when he becomes a pratyekabuddha, his body will be like purple-gold. At that time, while seated beneath a tree by the roadside and entering meditative concentration, a great army of more than seventy thousand people will pass by. Seeing the pratyekabuddha, they will think he is a golden man, and so they will hack him to pieces and divide him among themselves. Upon falling into their hands, they will look and see that it is flesh; they will all gather the pieces back, set them down, and depart. Thereupon the pratyekabuddha will enter parinirvāṇa. The sins of his present life will only then be lightly repaid and completely settled." The Buddha told the king: "For one who encounters a good friend, sins piled high as mountains can be extinguished, and one may also attain the Path." When the Buddha spoke this, the king and the great assembly were all filled with immense joy; bowing to the Buddha, they departed.