經律異相 7.29
English (machine translation) 7.29
- Language
- English
7.29
One Śākya woman said to the five hundred women: "I once heard from the Buddha that if a person, in the midst of extreme emergency, single-mindedly recites the Buddha's name and takes refuge with ultimate sincerity, they immediately attain peace and security." At that time, the five hundred women with one voice single-mindedly recited the Buddha's name, calling out: "Namo Śākyamuni! What misery! Alas! What pain!" At that moment, in the sky, by the power of the Tathāgata's root of loving-kindness, a great cloud of compassion arose, raining down the rain of great compassion, and the hands and feet of all the women grew back. The women thought to themselves: "How can we repay the Buddha's benevolent grace?" They immediately took robes and bowls and went to the King's Park Vihāra, seeking to go forth from the household life. At that time, there were the bhikṣuṇīs of the group of six, who saw that the Śākya women were young in age and of exquisite, upright beauty. [They said to them:] "You should be told of the pleasure of worldly desires. Would it not be joyful to wait until the time limit of your youth has passed and only then go forth? If you all return to lay life, you will surely give us your robes and bowls." When the women heard this, their hearts were grieved, and they said: "Like fine food mixed with poison, worldly five desires have many faults and afflictions; we already know this completely. Why do you praise their beauty to encourage us?" They raised their voices and wept aloud. The bhikṣuṇī Utpalavarṇā asked the reason. They replied, saying: "We wish to go forth, but have not received permission." Utpalavarṇā immediately ordained them as disciples. At that time, the Śākya women were filled with mixed sorrow and joy; they related in full how their clan had been destroyed and their bodies mutilated, looking up and reporting this to their preceptor. She replied to them: "How are your hardships even worth mentioning? Formerly, when I was in the household life, I was a person of Śrāvastī. My parents married me to a man from the north. According to the custom of that country, when a woman was about to give birth, she would return to her parents' house. Later, when the day of birth drew near, we husband and wife rode in a cart with horses. In the middle of the way there was a river whose waters had suddenly flooded; the road was deserted and beset by many perils from bandits. Having reached the river, we could not cross over, and we stayed overnight on the bank. In the first watch of the night, I gave birth to a boy. A great poisonous snake smelled the scent of fresh blood and came toward me; first it stung and killed our servant. I called to my husband, but he did not answer; shortly afterward it also killed my husband, and next it killed the oxen and horses. By the time the sun rose, my husband's body had swollen and rotted. In sorrow and terror, I raised my voice and wept aloud. After remaining alone by the bank for several days, the water gradually receded. Carrying my younger child on my back, holding [him] with my hands, and holding the newborn in the skirt [of my garment] clutched in my mouth, I stepped forward into the water. When I had crossed half the river, I looked back at my elder child and saw that he was being chased by a tiger. Crying out, I dropped my skirt; the infant sank and drowned. I reached out and groped with my hands, but in the end did not get him. The one on my back slipped from my hands and fell; the one on the bank was eaten by the tiger. My heart and liver felt torn apart, and I vomited hot blood; reaching the bank, I fainted. A large caravan arrived, among whom was an elder who was an acquaintance of my parents. I asked for news, and the elder replied: 'Last night there was a fire; your house was completely consumed, and both your parents have died.' Hearing this, I collapsed unconscious; only after a long time did I revive. There were five hundred bandits who then destroyed the caravan, and they took me away to make me a bandit's wife. They constantly made me guard the gate: if there were an emergency and they were pursued by others, I was required to open the gate by day. Later, the band of bandits went out together to plunder; the owners of the wealth reported it to the king and the villages. [The bandits] then returned home. Inside the house, I was giving birth to a child; though he called three times, no one opened the door. He then climbed over the wall, entered, and questioned me; I replied that I was giving birth to a child. The bandit said: 'For the sake of a child you bring harm to me—what use is a child?' He drew his sword, severed its hands and feet, and made me eat them. Out of terror, I ate them, and his wrath then subsided. My husband continued to be a robber, but was captured by the king's men; his life was ended by severing him at the waist, and I was buried alive with him. A person coveted the fine necklaces on my body, opened the tomb to take them, and took me away with him. After a short time, the king ambushed and caught him, executed the bandit companion, and buried me together with him again. Because they did not bury me securely, a night tiger dug in to feed, and thus I was able to get out again. Bewildered and confused, not knowing east from west, I fled along the road. Seeing many people, I asked them: 'Where is there someone who can remove such grief and suffering?' At that time, there were elders, brāhmaṇas, and others who, out of compassion, asked me [about my plight and said]: 'We have heard that the Dharma of the Buddha Śākyamuni has much peace and security and is free from all decline and torment.' Hearing this, my heart rejoiced. I went to the bhikṣuṇī Mahāprajāpatī Gautamī, gradually cultivated and practiced, and thereupon attained the fruit of the Path." When the Śākya women heard this, their hearts rejoiced greatly, and they attained the purity of the Dharma eye. At that time, Gautamī said: "In the ocean of the Tathāgata's Dharma, all sentient beings have a share. Yet for us women, the Tathāgata did not grant permission, because we have many doubts and attachments difficult to relinquish, our minds are veiled by foolish craving and submerged in the waters of craving, unable to emerge of ourselves, and we are indolent and lazy, unable in our present bodies to adorn bodhi and attain the Three Vehicles. Ānanda petitioned on our behalf, saying: 'Gautamī suckled and nurtured the Tathāgata's physical body so that he was able to attain buddhahood.' The Buddha said: 'If women are permitted, the Dharma will gradually perish.' Ānanda petitioned again: 'The past Buddhas were all equipped with the fourfold assembly, so why should it uniquely not be equipped now?' The Buddha told Ānanda: 'If Gautamī delights in the Buddha's Dharma, arouses great vigor, and purely cultivates and practices the Eight Rules of Respect (garudharma), she is permitted to enter the Buddha's Dharma.' Having attained the going forth, perfumed and cultivated by great compassion, on behalf of all women of the future, I again addressed the Buddha, saying: 'If there are good women of the future who faithfully rejoice in and lovingly revere the Tathāgata's Dharma, may you only grant them permission.' The Buddha said: 'If there are women who uphold and protect the Buddha's Dharma, gradually cultivating and learning morality, generosity, extensive learning, the three refuges, the five precepts, and up to the complete precepts and all the factors that aid the Path, they are also all permitted. They must always single-mindedly be mindful of Ānanda's kindness, making offerings and paying reverence during the six periods of the day and night, keeping it unforgotten in their minds.'" (Drawn from the fifth fascicle of the Sūtra on Repaying Kindness)
Linked texts (1)
- 經律異相 — Classical Chinese