經律異相 3.46

3.46

In the kingdom of Śrāvastī there was a royal park where a poisonous tree grew. When men and women strolled about and rested beneath it, some suffered headaches as if their heads would split, some suffered pain in their waists and spines, and some died beneath the tree. The park keeper took an axe with a long handle over a zhang in length and chopped it down from afar. Before ten days had passed, it grew back as before. This happened many times; its branches and leaves grew back afterward, becoming as full and round as before. The marvel among trees was such that none who saw it failed to rejoice; unaware of the danger, they all came and met with this fate. The park keeper's kin and relatives, coveting the pleasure of the tree's shade, all lost their lives. The park keeper was left alone; day and night he grieved and worried, crying out in sorrow as he walked about. Someone asked about it, and a wise man told him: “You must exhaust its roots.” Just as he was about to dig up the roots, he was terrified that he would certainly die. Thinking further, he left home to train in the Way. The Buddha said: