法苑珠林 31.41

31.41

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:'