法苑珠林 91.62

91.62

The *Aśokarāja-sūtra* also states: At that time, Kuṇāla replied to his wife, “We created this ourselves, and today we receive it. Those bound by love and affection inevitably part; what use is crying?” Having been driven out by the messengers, husband and wife together played the lute, sang, and begged to sustain themselves. Wandering from place to place, they returned to their native country. Wishing to enter the royal palace, the gatekeeper stopped them. Thereupon they went to an elephant stable outside the gate to spend the night. Toward dawn, he played the lute and recited his sufferings. Hearing the sound of the lute, the king was poignantly reminded of his son and immediately dispatched someone to summon him. When he arrived before the king, the king saw that he was blind, his appearance emaciated and wretched, and his clothes tattered and torn. He almost failed to recognize him, catching only a slight resemblance in his features. He immediately asked, “Are you my son Kuṇāla or not?” He replied, “I am.” Hearing his words, the king collapsed unconscious to the ground; only when sprinkled with water did he revive. Taking him onto his lap, he stroked and wiped his eyes with his hand, weeping as he said, “Your eyes originally resembled the kuṇāla bird, and for that reason you were given this name. Now you have none at all. What shall you be called? Who gouged out your eyes and made you suffer such emaciation and distress? Tell me quickly! Seeing your emaciated body now is like a fierce fire burning my body and mind, destroying everything completely.” The son said to the king, “I pray you will not be distressed. I created this karma myself; I cannot blame another. Having received my father the king's letter and tooth-seal ordering them gouged out, [they were gouged out].” The king swore an oath, saying, “If I ordered them gouged out, may my tongue be cut out of its own accord! If I gave my tooth-seal, may my teeth be pulled out! If my eyes saw it, may my own eyes be gouged out!” Later, investigating the matter, the king learned that Tiṣyarakṣā had fabricated the letter and sent it to have them gouged out. The king summoned her and cursed her, saying, “Inauspicious, evil creature! What earth can bear you? Why do you not sink and disappear this very moment? You are truly my enemy, falsely pretending intimacy and devotion!” Having cursed her in various ways, he heaped up bitumen and set fire to burn her to death.