法苑珠林 31.41

31.41

如佛本行經云。爾時佛告諸比丘言。我念往昔。有一馬王名雞尸。形貌端正身體白淨。猶如珂雪。又若白銀。如淨滿月如居陀華。其頭紺色走疾如風。聲如妙鼓。於彼時間。閻浮提有五百商人。時諸商人欲入大海。辨具資糧行到大海。即祠海神備諸船舶。雇得五船師求覓珍寶。時諸人輩至其海內。忽值惡風。吹其船舫。至羅剎國。其國多有羅剎之女。欲到彼國。大風飄搏船悉破壞。時諸商人各運手足。截流浮去欲詣彼岸。時羅剎女聞彼大海有船破壞。羅剎女等即往救接。一時捉得五百商人。共彼商人五欲自娛歡喜踊躍。共生男女。將彼商人置一鐵城。既安置已。變化本形令使端正。可喜過人。才不及天。用天香湯澡浴。以香塗身。著種種衣瓔珞莊嚴。妙華天冠懸以寶鈴。捷疾走行。詣商人所語諸人言。是諸聖子。莫有恐也。莫有愁也。過汝手來。過汝臂來。過汝腕來。是時商人窮極護命恐悑畏死。遂於彼所起實女想與其手臂。時羅剎女。度諸商人慈言哀愍。從何遠來可為我夫。憐愍我等為我作主。我等無人愛念作歸依處。除滅我等憂愁煩惱。為我等輩當作家長。我等承事不令虧失。爾時商人咸共惻愴。舉聲啼哭各吐熱氣。共相慰喻迭互安心。詣羅剎城。未到彼城。於其中路見有一所。其地寬廣皆悉平正。樹林華菓枝葉扶疏。諸鳥游集如是無量。復有雜華池沼。華鳥滿中。觀者欣悅能滅憂煩。其羅剎城。四壁潔白。狀如珂雪。又如氷山。其城在地。若遙觀者。乃見彼城如白雲隊。從地涌出。其城莊飾。如經具述。爾時諸羅。剎女將諸商人。向彼城已。教脫舊衣。以諸香湯沐浴身體。令坐種種妙勝之座。以五欲具而娛樂之。五音諸聲於前而作。經於久時受大快樂。後時諸羅剎女等告諸商人。善哉聖子。是城南面不得從彼出向某處。有一商人智慧深細聰明利見。即生疑念作是思惟。以何等故。不聽南過。我應伺諸女睡臥之時。尋往所禁之處。次第觀看善惡之事。爾時商主作是念已。即伺彼諸羅剎女等臥睡眠已。遂安詳而起不令有聲。即執刀從家而出。尋逐意趣漸漸前進。至於少地見一微徑恐悑之所無有草木甚可畏懼。乃聞有人大噭喚聲。狀如噭喚地獄中苦痛之聲。聞此聲已。身毛皆豎默然而住。良久喘定。還詣彼道。漸進其路。見一鐵城。其城高峻聲出之處。詣城巡行而不見門。到於北面見有一樹。名曰合歡。近城而生。其樹高大出於城上。時彼商主見斯樹已。即上其樹觀看城內。見彼城中多有人死。百有餘數。或有死者已被食半。或命未斷半身支解。或有飢渴逼惱而坐。或復消瘦唯有筋骨。眼目坎陷如井底星。迷悶在地頭髮蓬亂。塵土坌身甚大羸瘦。各相割肉而噉食之。以是因緣作大噭喚。如閻羅王所居之處。見諸眾生受大苦惱。是大商主見是事已。亦復如是。即以手捉合歡樹枝而搖動之。一枝動已舉樹枝葉互相𣥺觸而有聲出。爾時受苦諸人聞是聲已。仰觀城上。見彼商主在合歡樹。見已悲呼。汝是誰耶。為天為龍。為夜叉為帝釋。為大梵王等耶。在於厄難。憐愍我輩故來至此。救拔我等苦耶。時彼人輩合十指掌。頭頂遙禮哀泣發聲。仰面上觀作如是白。善哉仁者。汝今濟拔於我到於親愛之所耶。爾時商主從彼苦人聞是語已。欝怏不樂身心悲惱。而報彼言。是諸人輩當知。我今非是天龍。乃至非大梵天也。但我等輩從閻浮提興生至此。為求財故入於大海。我等將欲至於陸地。忽遇大風船舶破散。值諸婦女來至我邊濟拔我等。從爾已來常共如是。諸女歡娛受樂。我今云何能濟汝苦。是時商主復問彼言。汝諸人等。云何在此受如斯事。彼苦人輩即答言曰。善哉善人。我等今者亦復如是行人同伴亦五百人。船破至岸。亦遭羅剎女共受五欲。將我等輩置鐵城中。入此城來已被他食二百五十。今唯二百五十人在。我等亦共彼輩和合生於男女。彼羅剎女語言微妙其聲婉媚。但彼女等貪食肉故。共生男女悉還食盡。汝諸人輩慎莫共彼受樂娛樂。何以故。彼甚可畏無愛心故。是時商主復問彼言。諸人輩頗有方便得脫難不。彼即報言。有一方便。商主復問方便如何。善哉為說。彼等報言。十五日滿四月節會遇大喜樂。日月與昴宿合會之時。有一馬王名雞尸（隋云多髮）形貌端正見者樂觀。白如珂貝。其頭紺黑。行疾如風。聲如妙鼓。彼所停處乃有糠米。自無糠糩。甚大鮮白香美具足。彼馬所食。食是米已。來詣海岸露現半身。口出人聲而作是言。誰欲度彼大鹹苦水。如是三說。我今當令安隱得度彼岸。若值如是馬者即得免難。唯有此事更無餘也。汝等若欲脫諸難者勿泄此言。商主復問。汝等頗曾見馬王不。汝若見者何不親近。何不度汝。汝初從誰聞如是之事。彼等報言。我從虛空聞如是聲。而有信者尋虛空聲。詣於北道馬王之所。雖往其所不受彼言。而復還歸。我等皆由愛羅剎女。是故如此。今受是厄。是諸商主復問彼言。汝等去來可共詣彼馬王之所。彼等報言。我欲上城城即增長。掘地欲出其孔還合。我等是處無解脫期。我輩必為羅剎女食。何當得見彼親眷屬。汝等人輩慎莫放逸。隨意所去。速詣父母及自眷屬還歸本鄉。唯願汝等心意和合。我等本生某處某城某邑。善哉汝等。若至彼處為我等輩問訊父母諸親朋友。作是語已。復告彼言。汝等後時更莫發心向彼大海。何以故。大海內有諸恐悑。但在彼處隨宜活命。得共父母妻子眷屬不復分離。能行布施多造福業。嚴持齋戒是為第一。是時商主聞彼語已生大恐悑。遂即下樹。時彼諸人一時發聲噭喚啼哭嗚呼極苦。閻浮提內微妙之地。何當得見。若本知是厄處。寧住在彼餐噉牛糞用為活命。不為求財而來此也。爾時商主依著本道還向本處。見彼等輩諸羅剎女。猶故睡眠。商主爾時還即眠臥。至於天曉便作是念。云何令彼諸商人輩得知此事。若輒出言是即漏泄若其漏泄。羅剎諸女恐將我等至厄難處。我之此語應須隱默。乃至四月臨當節會馬王來曰乃告彼等。所以者何。昔有偈說。

As the Abhiniṣkramaṇa-sūtra says: At that time, the Buddha told the monks, "I recall that in the distant past, there was a horse king named Keśin. His appearance was handsome and his body was pure white, like conch-shell and snow, or like white silver, like the pure full moon, or like the kunda flower. His head was dark blue, he ran as swift as the wind, and his voice was like a wondrous drum. At that time, in Jambudvīpa there were five hundred merchants. Those merchants wished to enter the great sea. Having prepared provisions and equipment, they traveled to the great sea, whereupon they sacrificed to the sea god and readied their ships. They hired five helmsmen and sought after rare treasures. When those men reached the sea, they suddenly encountered a violent wind, which blew their ships to the land of rākṣasas. In that land were many rākṣasīs. Just as they were about to arrive at that land, a great gale tossed and battered them, completely shattering the ships. At that time, the merchants each strove with hand and foot, crossing the current and swimming away, wishing to reach the shore. When the rākṣasīs heard that ships were wrecked in the great sea, they immediately went out to rescue and receive them. All at once they took hold of the five hundred merchants. Together with those merchants, they disported themselves in the five desires, leaping with joy, and together they gave birth to sons and daughters. They placed the merchants inside an iron city. Having installed them, they transformed their original forms to make themselves handsome, delightful beyond human measure, inferior only to heavenly beings. Using celestial fragrant warm water, they bathed, anointed their bodies with perfumes, put on various garments and jeweled necklaces, and wore wondrous floral celestial crowns hung with precious bells. Running nimbly, they went to where the merchants were and addressed the men, saying, 'O noble sons, do not fear, do not sorrow! Give us your hands, give us your arms, give us your wrists!' At that time, the merchants, exhausted and desperate to protect their lives, terrified and dreading death, then gave rise to the notion that these were real women and gave them their hands and arms. The rākṣasīs then ferried the merchants across, speaking with compassionate words and pity: 'From how far have you come? You may be our husbands. Take pity on us and be our masters! We have no one who loves us or serves as a refuge. Put an end to our grief and afflictions, and be the masters of our households. We shall serve you without fail.' At that time, the merchants were all sorrowful; they wept aloud and breathed out hot breaths, comforting one another and mutually calming their minds. They proceeded to the city of the rākṣasīs. Before reaching the city, midway upon the road, they saw a place: the ground was broad, entirely flat and level, with groves of trees bearing flowers and fruits whose branches and leaves spread abundantly. Birds congregated in endless numbers. There were also ponds of diverse flowers, filled with blossoms and birds. Those who beheld it were filled with joy, capable of banishing grief and distress. As for the city of the rākṣasīs, its four walls were spotless white, resembling conch-shell and snow, or an icy mountain. That city sat upon the ground, yet viewed from afar, one saw the city like a bank of white clouds surging up from the earth. The ornamentation of the city was as detailed in the sūtra. At that time, after the rākṣasīs had led the merchants to the city, they instructed them to take off their old garments, bathed their bodies in fragrant warm water, made them sit on various wonderful and supreme seats, and entertained them with the implements of the five desires. The music of the five tones was played before them. They spent a long time experiencing great pleasure. Later, the rākṣasīs addressed the merchants: 'Excellent, noble sons! From the south side of this city, you must not go forth toward a certain place.' There was one merchant whose wisdom was deep and subtle, intelligent and perceptive. He immediately gave rise to suspicion and thought, 'For what reason are we not permitted to pass to the south? I should wait until the women are asleep, and then search out the forbidden place, to observe in turn the good and evil things there.' Having had this thought, the merchant leader watched for the rākṣasīs to fall fast asleep; he then arose gently without making a sound. Holding a sword, he stepped out of the house. Following his intention, he gradually advanced. Reaching a short distance, he saw a faint trail, a terrifying place devoid of grass or trees, exceedingly dreadful. He then heard people screaming loudly, a sound resembling the agonized screams of pain in the hells. Hearing this sound, his body hair stood on end, and he stood in silence. After a long while, his breathing settled. Returning to that path, he gradually advanced along the way and saw an iron city. It was high and steep, the place from which the sounds issued. He walked around the city but saw no gate. Arriving at the north side, he saw a tree called albizia growing close to the city. The tree was tall and vast, protruding above the city wall. Seeing this tree, the merchant leader climbed up it to look inside the city. He saw that inside the city many people were dead, over a hundred in number. Some among the dead were already half-eaten; some had not yet ceased breathing while their limbs were being dismembered; some sat tormented by hunger and thirst; some were so emaciated that they were reduced to mere sinews and bones, their eyes sunken like stars at the bottom of a well, swooning on the ground with disheveled hair, their bodies covered in dust, exceedingly weak and wasted, cutting each other's flesh to consume it. On account of this, they wailed loudly, just like the dwelling place of King Yama where one sees sentient beings suffering great distress. The great merchant leader, seeing these things, was likewise [terrified]. He then took hold of a branch of the albizia tree with his hand and shook it. Once one branch moved, the branches and leaves of the entire tree struck against each other and made a sound. At that time, hearing this sound, the suffering people looked up toward the top of the wall and saw the merchant leader in the albizia tree. Seeing him, they cried out in sorrow: 'Who are you? Are you a deva, a nāga, a yakṣa, Śakra, or Mahābrahmā? Seeing us in distress and taking pity on us, have you come here to rescue us from our suffering?' Then those people joined their ten fingers with palms together, bowed toward him from afar with their heads, wept piteously, and looking up, spoke thus: 'Well done, benevolent one! Will you now deliver us so that we may reach the place of our beloved kin?' When the merchant leader heard these words from the suffering people, he was distressed and unhappy, his mind and body grieved and afflicted, and he replied to them, 'You should know that I am neither a deva, a nāga, nor Mahābrahmā. We are simply merchants from Jambudvīpa who came here to seek wealth by entering the great sea. As we were about to reach dry land, we suddenly encountered a great gale that shattered our ships. We met women who came to our side and rescued us. Ever since, we have constantly enjoyed pleasure and rejoiced with these women. How could I now relieve your suffering?' The merchant leader then asked them again, 'Why are you people here undergoing such things as this?' Those suffering people replied, 'Excellent, good man! We too were travelers like you, five hundred companions. When our ships were wrecked and reached shore, we also encountered the rākṣasīs and together enjoyed the five desires. They placed us inside this iron city. Since entering this city, two hundred and fifty of us have already been eaten by them; now only two hundred and fifty remain. We too united with them and gave birth to sons and daughters. The rākṣasīs speak with delicate words, their voices charming and gentle. But because those women crave flesh, all the sons and daughters born together were eaten up by them. You people must take care not to indulge in pleasure and revelry with them! Why? Because they are exceedingly terrifying and possess no loving-kindness.' At that time, the merchant leader asked them again, 'Is there any means by which we people might escape this disaster?' They replied, 'There is one means.' The merchant leader asked again, 'What is the means? Please explain it.' They replied, 'On the fifteenth day, at the festival of the fourth month, when great joy is met, at the time when the sun and moon conjunct with the Pleiades (Kṛttikā), there is a horse king named Keśin (in Sui: 'Much Hair'). His appearance is handsome, delightful for onlookers to behold, white as a conch-shell, his head dark blue-black. He runs as swift as the wind, his voice like a wondrous drum. Where he stays, there is non-husked rice that naturally lacks husks and bran, exceedingly bright white, fragrant, and delicious, which is what the horse eats. Having eaten this rice, he comes to the seashore, reveals half of his body, and speaks in a human voice, saying: "Who wishes to cross that great salty, bitter water?" Speaking thus three times, [he says,] "I shall now cause them to reach the other shore safely." If one meets such a horse, one will escape the disaster. There is only this matter, and nothing else. If you wish to escape the disasters, do not leak these words.' The merchant leader asked again, 'Have you ever seen the horse king? If you have seen him, why did you not draw near? Why did he not carry you across? From whom did you first hear of this matter?' They replied, 'We heard such a voice from the sky, and those who had faith followed the voice in the sky and went to the northern road to the place of the horse king. Although they went to his place, they did not heed his words, and instead returned. It is entirely because we loved the rākṣasīs that we are like this, and now suffer this distress.' The merchant leader asked them again, 'Come with me, and we can go together to the horse king's place.' They replied, 'When we try to climb the wall, the wall grows taller; when we dig the ground trying to get out, the hole closes up again. For us, there is no time of liberation in this place. We will certainly be eaten by the rākṣasīs. When could we ever see our relatives and kin? You people must be careful not to be heedless! Go wherever you will, quickly return to your parents and your own kin, and return to your native land. We only wish that your minds remain unified and harmonious. We were originally born in such-and-such a place, city, or village. Good sir, if you arrive there, please inquire after our parents, kin, and friends on our behalf.' Having said this, they further told him, 'In future times, you must never again set your minds on going to the great sea. Why? Because the great sea holds many terrors. Just make a living as appropriate in that land, so that you may remain together with your parents, wives, children, and kin without being separated again. Be able to practice giving, create abundant meritorious deeds, and strictly observe the fasting precepts; this is foremost.' When the merchant leader heard these words, great fear arose in him, and he immediately climbed down the tree. At that time, those people cried out and wept together in one voice, 'Alas, what extreme suffering! When shall we ever see the exquisite land of Jambudvīpa again? If we had known this was a place of disaster, we would rather have stayed there eating cow dung to sustain life, and not have come here in search of wealth!' The merchant leader then retraced his original path back to his original place, and saw that the rākṣasīs were still sleeping. The merchant leader then lay down to sleep again. When dawn arrived, he thought, 'How can I make the merchants aware of this matter? If I speak out thoughtlessly, it will be leaked. If it is leaked, the rākṣasīs might take us to the place of distress. My words must be kept secret until the festival of the fourth month arrives, on the day the horse king comes, and only then will I inform them. Why is that? As an ancient verse said:'