經律異相 43.9

43.9

閻浮利地有眾多賈客。共相率合入海採寶。正值迴波惡風吹壞大船。復有諸人。乘弊壞船隨風流迸墮羅剎界。羅剎女輩顏貌端正前迎賈客云。此間多寶。明珠無價恣意取之。我等無夫汝無妻妾。可止此間共相娛樂。後得善風良伴歸家。諸君當知。若見左。面有道者。慎莫隨從。時商客中有一智者言。諸女所說此不可從。即進左道行數里。中聞一城裏數千萬人稱怨喚呼。云何捨閻浮提就此命終。賈客前詣城下周匝觀察。見城鑄鐵垣牆亦無門戶出入處所。去城不遠有尸梨師樹。即往攀樹見城裏數千萬人。遙問城裏人曰。何為。稱喚父母兄弟耶。城裏人報曰。我等入海採致寶物為風所漂。又為羅剎女所誑閉在牢城。前有五百人漸漸取殺。今有二百五十人在。君莫呼此女謂為是人。皆是羅剎鬼耳。其人下樹以語同伴。勸我還家善求方計。卿等今日意欲云何。眾人答曰。卿昨夜何不重問。彼人頗有權宜方計。眾人及我身得安隱歸家不乎。智人即報曰。我今暮起往更問之。須女睡眠竊起上樹。問城裏人頗有方計。卿等諸人復及我身。得還閻浮地不耶。城裏人答。我等生念欲還。此鐵城便化數重不可敗壞。死者日次無由得免。唯卿外人少有權宜。可得度脫還至本土。十五日清旦有一馬王。從欝單曰來至此界。住高山頂。王自喚呼。誰欲還歸閻浮利地。卿等若聞馬聲。皆往禮敬求還本鄉。其人向伴具陳情狀。眾人報曰。今可去不。答曰。須十五日至馬王。當來乃得去耳。未經數日馬王便至。商客聞已往馬王所。白言。我等咸欲求還本鄉。願見將接。馬王告曰。卿等慧意聽我所說。各欲歸家還本鄉者。心意專正便得歸家。心不專正不得歸也。此諸婦女抱男女。追逐卿後啼哭喚呼。其中諸人興戀著心。正使在我脊上猶不得去。若能捨恩愛。正心一意無所戀著。至心捉我一毛便得歸家。時諸婦女各語夫曰。誠可捨我賤身。何為捐棄兒女。先教兒女往抱父頸。啼哭喚呼。捨我等為欲何處去。心意戀著者便不得還。唯有大智師子一人。安隱還歸。時羅剎婦。抱其男女往逐師子。告語村落。師子身者是我夫主。共生男女。捨我逃走不知所趣。諸人聞已問師子曰。觀卿婦女。體性容貌人中英妙。兒女可愍何為捨之。師子報曰。此亦非人是羅剎鬼耳。往海渚中殺噉商賈不可稱數。吾伴數百閉在鐵城。唯我一人幸得免濟。今此鬼女復逐我後。規欲害我恐不免濟。轉復前行。還至本國。鬼猶逐後到其國土。鬼往白王。我與師子共為夫婦。生此男女。後望得力非圖今日永已見捨。王召師子問其情實。師子具以上事白王。王告師子。設卿不用可持與我。師子報曰。此實非人是羅剎鬼。備有愆咎後莫見怨。復語左右諸臣。斯鬼至此必有傷害。王今不信欲內深宮。如是不久王及內宮盡當灰滅。王復瞋恚語師子曰。女中姿容如天玉女。何緣復稱為羅剎鬼耶。速出在外吾自觀之。王將鬼女入宮一宿。明日食時宮門不開。諸臣共議。王新納妻意相貪樂故不開耳。師子說曰。不如來議。王及夫人并諸婇女。必為羅剎所食噉盡故門不開耳。即施高梯踰牆入內。見死人骸骨滿數間舍。諸臣責師子曰。正坐汝身將羅剎鬼。殺王喪國宮殿滅亡。卿欲云何。師子答曰。吾先有契後莫見怨。卿等何為復見責數。諸臣人民前白師子。王今已死更無胤嗣。唯願師子當登王位領理人民。師子告曰。若欲舉我為王者。當隨我教異形同響咸皆稱善。王告諸臣。當共集兵入海攻擊。殺羅剎男女無有遺在。後破鐵城出其中人。土俗常法。若一人不事佛者當送山西付鬼噉之。自爾已來佛法熾盛得道無數。是故說。諸有信佛者如此眾生安隱得還皆由馬王。又彼國常儀。國王生子。若十若百若至無數。盡出作道誦習佛經。三藏備舉。還復罷道。登陟王位。凡諸不通經籍不舉則不得陟王位也（出承事勝已經）。

In the continent of Jambudvīpa there were many merchants who gathered together and went out to sea to gather jewels. They encountered swirling waves and evil winds that wrecked their great ship. Other men, drifting on the wreckage with the wind, washed ashore in the realm of the rākṣasīs. The rākṣasīs, of upright and beautiful appearance, came forward to welcome the merchants, saying: 'There are many treasures here, priceless bright pearls; take them as you please! We have no husbands and you have no wives; you may stay here and make merry together. Later, when there is a fair wind and good companions, you may return home. But you gentlemen should know: if you see a road on the left, beware not to follow it!' Among the merchants was a wise man who said: 'What these women say must not be followed.' He immediately took the left road and walked for several miles, when from inside a city he heard tens of thousands of people crying out in grievance and shouting: 'Why did we leave Jambudvīpa only to meet our deaths here?' The merchant went forward to the foot of the city wall and looked all around; he saw that the city wall was made of cast iron, with neither gates nor doors nor any place of entrance or exit. Not far from the city stood a śirīṣa tree. He immediately climbed the tree and saw the tens of thousands of people inside the city. Calling from afar, he asked the people inside: 'Why are you crying out for your parents and brothers?' The people inside replied: 'We went out to sea to gather treasures, were blown off course by the wind, and were deceived by the rākṣasīs, who locked us in this secure city. Previously there were five hundred men, but gradually they have been taken and killed; now two hundred and fifty men remain. Sir, do not call these women human: they are all rākṣasa demons! The man climbed down the tree and told his companions: '[They] urge me to return home and seek a good plan. What do you all intend to do today?' The crowd replied: 'Why did you not ask further last night whether those people had an expedient plan? Will we and yourself be able to return home safely?' The wise man answered: 'I will rise tonight and go ask them again.' Waiting until the women were asleep, he secretly rose and climbed the tree, asking the people inside the city: 'Is there any plan? Can you all and myself return to the land of Jambudvīpa or not?' The people inside replied: 'As soon as we give rise to the thought of returning, this iron city manifests several layers and cannot be breached. Those who die do so day by day in turn, with no way to escape. Only you outsiders have a slight chance of an expedient plan: you can be saved and return to your native land. At dawn on the fifteenth day, a horse king will come to this realm from Uttarakuru and stand atop the high mountain peak. The king will call out of his own accord: "Who wishes to return to the continent of Jambudvīpa?" If you hear the horse's voice, all go pay homage and seek to return to your homeland.' The man reported the situation in full to his companions. The crowd said: 'Can we go now or not?' He answered: 'We must wait until the fifteenth day when the horse king arrives; only then can we go.' Before many days had passed, the horse king arrived. Hearing this, the merchants went to where the horse king was and said: 'We all wish to seek to return to our homeland; we pray that you will convey us across.' The horse king told them: 'Listen with wise understanding to what I say. Those who wish to go home and return to their homeland: if your minds are focused and upright, you will be able to return home; if your minds are not focused and upright, you will not be able to return. These women will hold their boys and girls and pursue you from behind, weeping and crying out. If any among you give rise to thoughts of longing and attachment, even if you are on my back you still will not get away. If you can renounce love and affection, with an upright mind and undivided attention without any attachment, and with sincere devotion hold onto even a single hair of mine, you will be able to return home.' Then the women each said to their husbands: 'Truly, you may abandon my lowly person, but why cast aside your sons and daughters?' First they taught the sons and daughters to go and hug their fathers' necks, weeping and crying out: 'Where do you wish to go, abandoning us?' Those whose minds were filled with longing and attachment could not return. Only the greatly wise Siṃha returned safely alone. Then the rākṣasa woman, holding her boy and girl, pursued Siṃha, saying to the villages: 'This Siṃha is my husband. Together we gave birth to these children. He abandoned me and fled, and I know not where he is going.' When the people heard this, they asked Siṃha: 'Observing your woman, her person and appearance are remarkably fine among humans, and the children are pitiable; why do you abandon them?' Siṃha replied: 'She is not human; she is a rākṣasa demon. Out on the sea isles, they have killed and eaten incalculable numbers of merchants. Several hundred of my companions are locked in an iron city; I alone was fortunate enough to escape. Now this demon woman pursues me from behind, intending to harm me; I fear I may not escape.' He proceeded further and returned to his home country. The demon still pursued him behind, arriving in his country. The demon went to address the king: 'Siṃha and I were husband and wife, and gave birth to these children. Later I hoped to rely on his strength; I never expected to be forever abandoned today.' The king summoned Siṃha and asked him the truth of the matter. Siṃha reported the above events in full to the king. The king said to Siṃha: 'If you do not want her, you may give her to me.' Siṃha replied: 'She is truly not human; she is a rākṣasa demon. She is fraught with transgressions and disasters; do not blame me later!' He also spoke to the ministers on the left and right: 'When this demon arrives here, harm will certainly follow. The king now does not believe me and wishes to admit her into the inner palace. If it continues like this, before long the king and the inner palace will all be reduced to ashes.' The king was again enraged and said to Siṃha: 'Her beauty among women is like that of a celestial maiden; why do you call her a rākṣasa demon? Go outside quickly; I will see for myself.' The king took the demon woman into the palace for one night. The next day at mealtime, the palace gates did not open. The ministers discussed among themselves: 'The king has taken a new wife and is engrossed in pleasure; that is why they have not opened.' Siṃha spoke, saying: 'It is not as you discuss. The king, his queen, and all the court ladies must have been entirely eaten up by the rākṣasa; that is why the gates do not open.' They immediately set up a high ladder and climbed over the wall to enter, where they saw dead people's bones filling several rooms. The ministers blamed Siṃha, saying: 'It is precisely because of you that you brought this rākṣasa demon, killing the king, ruining the state, and destroying the palace! What do you intend to do?' Siṃha replied: 'I had an agreement beforehand that you should not blame me later. Why do you hold me responsible now?' The ministers and people came forward and addressed Siṃha: 'The king is now dead and has no heir. We only wish that Siṃha will ascend the throne and govern the people.' Siṃha told them: 'If you wish to elevate me as king, you must follow my instructions.' With different bodies but a single voice, all said: 'Excellent!' The king told the ministers: 'We must assemble the army together, enter the sea, attack, and kill all the rākṣasa males and females, leaving none behind. Afterwards, break open the iron city and bring out the people inside.' The customary law of that land was: if any person did not serve the Buddha, they would be sent west of the mountain and handed over to the demons to be eaten. From then on, the Buddhadharma flourished, and those who attained the Path were countless. Therefore it is said: that any who had faith in the Buddha, such living beings as these, were able to return safely, was entirely due to the horse king. Furthermore, by the regular custom of that country, when the king fathered sons, whether ten, a hundred, or countless, all left home to practice the Path and chant and study the Buddhist scriptures; when the Tripiṭaka was fully mastered, they would return and disrobe, ascending the throne. Any who were not versed in the canonical texts and not recommended could not ascend the throne (from the Chengshi shengji jing).