經律異相 26.16

26.16

昔摩天羅國。有王名日難。學通神明靡幽不覩。覺世非常曰。吾身當朽為世糞壤。何國之可保。捐榮棄樂服上法服。一鉢食為足。稟沙門戒山林為居積三十年。樹邊有坑深三十丈。時有獵者馳騁尋鹿墮于坑中時有一烏一蛇。俱時驚殞體皆毀傷。仰天悲號有孤窮之音。道士愴然火照見之。涕泗交頸。臨坑告曰。汝等無憂吾將拔汝。即下長繩或銜或持。遂獲全命。俱時謝曰。吾等蒙道士仁惠無量。得覩天日。願終斯身給眾所乏。道士曰。吾為國王。國大民多宮寶婇女諸國為上。願即響應何求不得。吾以國為怨六塵為六劍。常截吾身。六箭射吾體。因此六邪。轉受三塗。酷烈難忍吾甚厭之。故捐國為沙門。願獲佛道開化群生令還本元。豈但汝等三命而已乎。各還舊居見汝所親。令受三自歸無違佛教。獵者曰。我處世有年甞覩善人。無有若佛弟子者。恕己濟眾隱不揚名。若道士有乏願至吾家乞微供養。烏曰。吾名鉢。道士有難願呼吾名。吾當馳詣。蛇曰。吾名長。若道士有患。願呼吾名必來報恩。辭畢各退。他日道士之獵者舍。獵者遙見其來。告妻曰。彼不祥之人來。吾勅汝。為饌徐設之。彼過日中不食。妻覩道士。覲而作色詭留設食虛談過中。道士退而還山。覩烏呼名曰鉢。烏問曰。自何來耶。答曰獵者所來。烏曰已食乎。曰彼設未辦日已過中不待而退。烏曰。凶咎之物難以慈濟。違仁背恩凶逆之人。吾無食飲以相供養。且留心坐。吾須臾飛往般遮國。覩王夫人臥首飾之中有明月珠。烏銜而還以奉道士。夫人寐寤求之不獲。即以上聞。王勅臣民。有得之者。賞金銀各千斤牛馬各千首。得不貢上罪及滅宗。道士以惠獵者。獵者縛考白王。曰。汝何從得。道士深惟。若言其主必一國烏死。此非佛弟子。默然受考杖楚千數。初不怨王亦不讐彼。如慈誓曰。令吾得佛度眾苦矣。王埋道士唯出其頭明日戮之。道士乃呼蛇曰長。蛇曰天下無知我名者。唯有道士耳。揚聲相呼必有以也。疾邁見道士。問曰。何由致此。道士乃說厥所由然。蛇流淚曰。道士仁慈天地之間尚與禍會。豈況無道誰將祐之乎。我將入宮咋殺太子。蛇以神藥與道士傅之即瘳。蛇夜入宮咋太子即絕。停屍三日令曰。有能活太子者。分國而治。載之山間歷道士邊過。道士曰。吾能活之。王聞心喜。道士以藥傅太子身。忽然語曰。吾那在斯。從者具陳所以。太子還宮巨細喜舞分國惠之。道士一無所受。王悟曰。分國不受豈當盜哉。問何從獲珠。行高乃爾忽離斯患。道士具陳本末。王涕淚流面。告獵者曰。汝有勳於國。悉呼九親來。吾欲重賜之。親無巨細皆詣宮門。王曰。不仁背恩惡之元首盡殺之矣。道士入山學道精進不倦。終生天上。時道士者我身是也。烏者秋露子是。蛇者阿難是。獵者調達是。妻者懷柈女子。是也（出摩國王經）。

Formerly, in the country of Motianluo, there was a king named Rinanguo. His learning penetrated divine illumination, and there was nothing obscure he did not perceive. Realising the impermanence of the world, he said: “My body will decay and become the world’s dung and loam; what kingdom can be preserved?” Abandoning glory and discarding pleasure, he put on the supreme robe of the Dharma. Taking a single bowl of food as sufficiency, he received the precepts of a śramaṇa and dwelt in the mountain forests, accumulating thirty years there. Beside a tree there was a pit thirty fathoms deep. At that time, a hunter galloped after a deer and fell into the pit. There were also a crow and a snake that fell in alarm at the same time, their bodies all injured. Looking up to heaven, they cried out in sorrow with the sounds of utter helplessness. The practitioner felt sorrowful and illuminated them with a torch; tears streamed down his neck. Approaching the pit, he announced: “Do not grieve; I shall pull you out.” He then lowered a long rope; taking hold of it or biting it, they were thus completely saved. At once they thanked him, saying: “Receiving the practitioner's boundless benevolence and kindness, we have been able to see the light of day. We wish for the rest of our lives to supply whatever you lack.” The practitioner said: “I was once a king; my kingdom was vast, its people numerous, and its palace treasures and court ladies were supreme among all nations. Whatever I wished was answered immediately; what request was not attained? But I regarded the kingdom as an enemy and the six sense-objects as six swords constantly cutting down my body, and six arrows shooting at my form. Because of these six evils, one passes through the three evil destinies, cruel and unbearable; I loathed them greatly. Therefore I abandoned my kingdom to become a śramaṇa, wishing to attain the Buddha path and transform all living beings to return to their original source. How could it be merely for the three lives of you all? Return each to your former dwellings, see your kin, and cause them to take the three refuges, not defying the Buddha's teachings.” The hunter said: “I have lived in the world for years and have often seen good people, but none like the Buddha's disciples, who consider others to rescue the multitude and hide away without making a name for themselves. If the practitioner ever lacks anything, please come to my house to beg for a modest offering.” The crow said: “My name is Bo. If the practitioner is in difficulty, please call my name; I will race to you.” The snake said: “My name is Chang. If the practitioner is in distress, please call my name; I will surely come to repay your kindness.” Having taken their leave, they each withdrew. On another day, the practitioner went to the hunter's house. Seeing him from afar, the hunter said to his wife: “That inauspicious person is coming. I instruct you: prepare the food slowly. He does not eat past midday.” When the wife saw the practitioner, she assumed an expression of deference, deceitfully detaining him by setting out food and engaging in vain conversation until midday had passed. The practitioner withdrew and returned to the mountain. Seeing the crow, he called its name, saying: “Bo.” The crow asked: “Where do you come from?” He replied: “I have come from the hunter’s place.” The crow said: “Have you already eaten?” He said: “His preparation was not yet ready, and the sun had already passed midday, so without waiting, I withdrew.” The crow said: “An ominous creature is hard to rescue with compassion; he is a treacherous man who violates benevolence and turns his back on kindness. I have no food and drink to offer you; please keep your mind at ease and sit. In a moment I will fly to the country of Pañca.” Seeing that among the headdress ornaments of the king's sleeping queen there was a luminous pearl, the crow took it in its beak, returned, and offered it to the practitioner. When the queen awoke, she searched for it in vain, and immediately reported it to the king. The king decreed to his officials and people: “Whoever finds it will be rewarded with a thousand catties each of gold and silver, and a thousand head each of oxen and horses. Anyone who finds it and does not present it to the court shall be punished with the extermination of his clan.” The practitioner gave it to the hunter. The hunter bound and tortured him, reporting to the king: “Where did you obtain this?” The practitioner reflected deeply: “If I speak of its master, surely every crow in the kingdom will die; this is not the way of a disciple of the Buddha.” Silently, he endured interrogation and beatings with rods numbering in the thousands. From the beginning, he bore no resentment toward the king, nor did he harbor enmity toward the hunter. He made a vow of compassion: “May I attain buddhahood and deliver the multitude of sufferers!” The king buried the practitioner with only his head exposed, intending to execute him the next day. The practitioner then called the snake, saying: “Chang.” The snake said: “In all the world, no one knows my name except the practitioner. Calling out my name aloud must have a reason.” Hurrying forth, it saw the practitioner and asked: “How did this come about?” The practitioner then related the reason for it. Weeping tears, the snake said: “The practitioner is benevolent and kind, yet between heaven and earth he still meets with calamity. How much more so for the unprincipled—who will protect them? I will enter the palace and bite the crown prince to death.” The snake gave divine medicine to the practitioner, which cured him as soon as it was applied. At night, the snake entered the palace and bit the crown prince, who immediately expired. Keeping the corpse for three days, the king decreed: “If anyone can revive the crown prince, I will divide the kingdom to rule with him.” They carried the prince through the mountains and passed by the practitioner. The practitioner said: “I can revive him.” Hearing this, the king was overjoyed. The practitioner applied the medicine to the crown prince's body. Suddenly the prince spoke, saying: “Why am I here?” His attendants explained the reason in full. The crown prince returned to the palace; great and small danced with joy, and the king offered to divide the kingdom to reward him. The practitioner accepted nothing at all. The king realised, saying: “If he will not accept a division of the kingdom, how could he have stolen?” He asked how the pearl had been obtained, and why, being of such noble conduct, he had suddenly suffered this distress. The practitioner set forth the matter from beginning to end. Tears streamed down the king’s face. He said to the hunter: “You have performed a service for the kingdom; summon all of your nine generations of relatives, for I wish to bestow a great reward upon them.” The relatives, young and old, all came to the palace gate. The king said: “Violating benevolence and turning his back on kindness, he is the ringleader of evil!” and had them all put to death. The practitioner entered the mountain to learn the path, energetic without wearying, and at the end of his life was reborn in heaven. The practitioner of that time was myself; the crow was Śāriputra; the snake was Ānanda; the hunter was Devadatta; and the wife was the woman who carried the bowl (from the Sūtra of the King of the Country of Mo).