經律異相 31.17

31.17

During the Semblance Dharma period of Vipaśyin Buddha, the king of Vārāṇasī was named Rāja. He had only three sons, each assigned to govern a minor state. At that time, the king was wise and insightful, ruled with the true Dharma, and did not oppress the people. Through the power of the king's virtue, the wind and rain were timely and the five grains ripened in abundance. A high-ranking minister favoured by the king, named Rāhula, harboured wicked rebellion in his heart and suddenly raised the four divisions of the army to attack the kingdom of Vārāṇasī. He took the great king's life. He went on to attack the first and second princes, and next set out to conquer the third. The third prince was tall and grand in stature, exceptionally handsome, gentle and good by nature, and agreeable in speech; he always spoke with a smile, bringing benefit and never offending people's feelings. He governed his people with the true Dharma; his land was prosperous and joyful, the state treasury was full, and all four quarters praised him. The devas in empty space and all the spirits and ghosts also revered and loved him. He had a crown prince named Sujāti, who was intelligent, compassionate, and benevolent, and took delight in giving. His body was of golden colour, the seven places were full and level, and he was complete with the marks of an extraordinary person. He was only seven years old, and his father loved him dearly, not parting from him for a moment. At that time, the spirit guarding the palace said to the king: "The wicked and rebellious Rāhula schemes to usurp the throne and wants to kill the father king. He immediately raised troops, hunted down the two elder brothers, and has already taken their lives. His army will soon reach here as well." Hearing these words, the king was so sorrowful and anguished that he could not control himself. His heart and liver seemed to tear apart; writhing and rolling, he collapsed to the ground. Only after a long while did he revive. In a faint voice he replied toward empty space, saying: "Who are you, sir? I hear only your voice but do not see your form. Is what you just declared true or not?" [The spirit] immediately answered the king: "I am the spirit guarding the palace. Because the king is intelligent, upright, and does not oppress the people, I have informed you of this. The king should depart quickly, for his arrival is not far off." The king thought of seeking refuge in a neighbouring country, but there were two routes: one route was a seven days' journey, and the other was a fourteen days' journey. He then packed provisions for one person for seven days, entered the palace, called Sujāti, and took him onto his lap. The queen came forward and asked: "Great King, today you seem to look frightened." The king said: "It is not for you to know." The queen said: "My body and the king's are like the two wings of a bird. Why do you say it does not concern me?" The king answered as above. He then embraced the prince and set out on the road. The queen followed behind, but in her confusion and distraught state of mind, she mistakenly took the fourteen days' route. That road was treacherous and difficult, lacking water and grass. After travelling forward for several days, the provisions shared by the three of them were exhausted, yet the road was still long. The king and the queen wept aloud: "How dreadful! How bitter! From birth until now we have never heard of such suffering. How is it that today we personally experience it?" Deeply reproaching themselves, pressed by hunger and thirst, their lives hung by a breath. [The king] considered devising an expedient: not wishing for all three to die together, he would kill his wife to keep himself and the child alive. Sujāti saw the king's strange expression, stepped forward, took his father's hand, and addressed him: "What do you wish to do?" The father, his eyes filled with sorrowful tears, said to his son in a faint voice: "I wish to kill your mother and take her flesh and blood to sustain your life." Sujāti, choking back tears, addressed his father: "Where is there a son who eats his mother's flesh? If [we] do not eat the flesh, both son and mother will die together. I pray you only kill your son to save the lives of his parents." Hearing the son's words, the king fell into a faint, and in a faint voice said to his son: "A child is like my eyes. Where is there a person who gouges out his own eyes and turns around to eat them? I would rather lose my life than ever kill my child and eat my child's flesh!" Sujāti said again: "If my life is ended all at once, the blood and flesh will rot and stink before many days have passed. I wish to ask for one boon; if you refuse, you are not compassionate parents." The father king then said to the prince: "I will not refuse your wish." Sujāti said: "I only wish that day by day you cut three catties of flesh from my body: two portions to offer to my parents, and one portion for myself to eat so as to sustain my life." Weeping, the parents complied. They were able to reach the road ahead, but with two days still remaining, the flesh of his body was completely gone, his limbs, joints, sinews, and bones barely connected together, yet his remaining life had not ended. Embracing him, his parents wept aloud: "We are utterly unworthy! We have improperly eaten your flesh and caused you bitter agony. The road ahead is still long and we have not reached our destination, yet your flesh is gone. Now our lives will end together, our corpses gathered in one place." Then Sujāti exhorted them in a faint voice: "Having already eaten your son's flesh and advanced on the road to this point, parents, you must not now act like ordinary people and end your lives together in one place. Out of compassion, do not refuse me! You may thoroughly cut away the remaining flesh between the various joints of my body to save yourselves, so that you can reach your destination." The parents acted according to his words; having finished eating, they wailed and parted from him. Sujāti stood up and watched his parents; weeping bitterly, his parents went along the road. When his parents were far off and could no longer see Sujāti, the prince, longing for his parents, did not let his eyes wander for even a moment. After a long while, he collapsed to the ground. The fresh blood and flesh of his body smelled fragrant throughout the ten directions. Gnats and mosquitoes around, smelling the fragrance of blood and flesh, came to cover his body, everywhere biting and eating it; the excruciating pain was beyond words. His remaining life not yet ended, he raised his voice and made a vow: "May the calamities and evils of my past lives be completely eradicated through this; from now on, I will never dare commit them again. Now I offer this body of mine to my parents; may my parents always obtain the remaining blessings of the eleven [virtues]. May the remaining blood and flesh given to all these gnats and mosquitoes satisfy them to fullness!" When he made this vow, heaven and earth shook in six ways, the sun lost its brilliant light, beasts and birds scattered and fled, the great ocean surged with waves, and Sumeru trembled and sank. The devas of the six desire heavens were all terrified and descended to Jambudvīpa, transforming into the forms of lions, tigers, and wolves. With wide eyes, bristling whiskers, pawing the earth and roaring loudly, leaping and bounding, they came wishing to seize and bite him. Then Sujāti, seeing the beasts displaying great majestic fierceness, said in a faint voice: "If you wish to eat me, take and eat as you please; why do you frighten me?" Then the heavenly king Śakra resumed his heavenly form. Seeing this, the prince was boundlessly joyful. Then Śakra asked the prince: "You have renounced what is difficult to renounce. With such merit as this, do you wish to be born in heaven to be a Māra king or a Brahmā king?" The prince replied: "I vow to attain unexcelled bodhi." Heavenly Śakra said: "These are merely empty words; who would believe you?" The prince made an oath: "If I am deceitful, let the wounds on my body never close from beginning to end; if I am not so, let me be restored as before, let my blood turn to milk, and let my body be healed and twice as handsome as usual!" Then the heavenly king Śakra bowed his head to the prince's feet and sighed in praise: "Excellent! I am not your equal. You are vigorous and courageous, and will certainly attain bodhi; I pray that you will deliver me first." Then the heavenly king Śakra disappeared into empty space. Meanwhile, the king and queen reached the neighbouring country. When the neighbouring country heard of it, they came out from afar to receive them. When they met, [the king] recounted all the events above in full. They provided everything needed, greatly satisfying his hopes. The neighbouring king was deeply moved by the prince's compassion and filial piety; he immediately raised the four divisions of the army and gave them to that king to attack Rāhula, returning along the road. Intending to go to the place where they had previously parted from the prince to gather his bones for a coffin, looking ahead, they wept bitterly. As they drew nearer, they saw from afar that the prince's body was completely healed; stepping forward, they embraced him, sorrow and joy mingling together. Then Sujāti recounted all the events above to his parents. The parents were delighted. Together they mounted a great elephant and returned to their own country. Because the prince's merit was profound, they successfully returned to their native land, and they immediately installed the prince as the great king. The father king at that time was none other than the present King Śuddhodana; the mother was the present Lady Māyā; Sujāti was the present person of the Buddha; and the heavenly Śakra at that time was none other than Ājñātakauṇḍinya (drawn from the Da fangbian fo bao'en jing, fascicle 1).