法苑珠林 22.38

22.38

The Buddha further brought Nanda to the hells. He saw cauldrons of boiling soup all boiling people, but saw only one cauldron bubbling and boiling while remaining empty. Wondering at the reason for this, he came and asked the Buddha. The Buddha told him, “Go and ask yourself.” Nanda then asked the hell-warden, saying, “All the cauldrons are boiling and torturing sinners; why is this cauldron empty with nothing being boiled in it?” He answered, “In Jambudvīpa there is a disciple of the Tathāgata named Nanda. Because of the merit of renouncing the household life, he is destined to be born in heaven. But because of the conditions of his desire to abandon the Way, when his heavenly lifespan ends he will fall into this hell. Therefore, I am now blowing the fire under the cauldron and awaiting Nanda.” Having heard this, Nanda was terrified, fearing the hell-warden would detain him. He at once said, “Namo Buddhāya! Namo Buddhāya! I only pray that you will protect and take me back to Jambudvīpa.” The Buddha said to Nanda, “Are you able to diligently keep the precepts and cultivate your heavenly blessings?” Nanda answered, “There is no use in being born in heaven; now I only pray that I do not fall into this hell.” The Buddha preached the Dharma for him, and within one seven-day period he became an arhat. The monks exclaimed in praise, “The World-Honoured One’s appearance in the world is exceedingly rare and wondrous!” The Buddha said, “Not only today is it like this; in the past it was also like this.” The monks said, “In the past it was also so? What was that affair? Please explain it for us.” The Buddha said: In the past, the king of the country of Kāśi was named Full Face (Pūrṇamukha). In the country of Videha there was a courtesan who was remarkably beautiful and wonderful. At that time the two countries were constantly hostile and resentful toward each other. A flattering minister at the side praised and spoke to the king of Kāśi: “That country has a courtesan whose beauty is rare in the world.” When the king heard these words, his mind gave rise to infatuation and attachment. He sent an envoy to request her, but that country would not give her. He sent an envoy again, saying, “I only ask to see her briefly; in four or five days she will be sent back.” Then the king of that country instructed the courtesan: “Bring to full perfection all your charms and arts, so that the king of Kāśi becomes infatuated with and attached to you, unable to leave you for an instant.” Then he sent her off. After four or five days had passed, he soon summoned her back, saying, “I wish to perform a great sacrifice and must have this woman. Release her to return for a short time; afterward she will be sent again.” Then the king of Kāśi sent the woman back. When the great sacrifice was finished, he sent an envoy to ask for her return. The reply was, “She will be sent tomorrow.” But when tomorrow came, she was still not sent. Such false words continued for many days. The king’s mind was so infatuated and attached that, leading only a few men, he wished to go to that country. The ministers remonstrated with him, but he would not accept their advice. At that time, on the Mount of the Seers (Ṛṣigiri), there was a monkey king who was intelligent, erudite, and knowledgeable. His mate having just died, he took a female monkey. The troop of monkeys all became angry and rebuked him: “This female monkey belongs in common to the troop; by what cause do you alone appropriate her?” At that time, taking the female monkey, the monkey king fled toward the country of Kāśi to take refuge with the king. The troop of monkeys all pursued them. When they arrived inside the city, they uncovered roofs and broke down walls beyond control. The king of Kāśi said to the monkey king, “Why do you not return the female monkey to the monkeys now?” The monkey king said, “My mate died and I had no other mate; why does the king now wish to make me return her?” The king said to him, “Now your monkeys are destroying and throwing my country into disorder; how could you not return her?” The monkey king said, “Is this matter bad?” The king answered, “It is bad.” Repeating this two and three times, the king still said, “It is bad.” The monkey king said, “In your palace you have eighty-four thousand consorts; you take no pleasure in them and wish to go to an enemy country in pursuit of a courtesan. I now have no mate and took only this one, yet you say it is bad. All the myriad common people look to you for their livelihood; for the sake of a single courtesan, why would you cast away the affairs of state? Great King, you should know: the matter of lust has little pleasure and much suffering, just like holding a blazing torch against the wind—the fool who does not let it go will surely be burned and harmed. Lust is impure, like a heap of dung. Lust displays an outer form covered only by thin skin. Lust has no loyalty, like a venomous snake smeared with dung. Lust is like a treacherous bandit falsely showing affection to attach to a person. Lust is like a loan that must be returned. Lust is loathsome, like flowers growing in a latrine. Lust is like an itch facing a fire: scratching it only worsens it. Lust is like a dog gnawing a dry bone, mixing it with saliva and imagining there is flavor, breaking its lips and teeth entirely without ever knowing satisfaction. Lust is like a thirsty man drinking salt water, which only increases his thirst. Lust is like a piece of meat for which many birds contend. Lust is like fish fighting [for bait], greedy for flavor unto death—its harm is exceedingly great.” The monkey king of that time was myself; the king of that time was Nanda; and the courtesan of that time was Sundarī. At that time I pulled Nanda out of the mire of lust; now I have likewise pulled him out of the suffering of birth and death.