諸經要集 14.8

14.8

Furthermore, the Damamūka-nidāna-sūtra says: In the past, when the Buddha was in the world, there was an elder in the city of Śrāvastī named Ligimi (Mṛgāra), who had seven sons, all of whom were married. The youngest son's wife was named Vaiśālī (Viśākhā); she was exceedingly wise and virtuous, knowing everything. Thereupon, Mṛgāra entrusted all of his household estate to her. On account of her wisdom and virtue, King Prasenajit treated her with reverence as his sister. At one time she became pregnant, and when the months were fulfilled she gave birth to thirty-two eggs. From each egg came a male child, whose appearance was handsome and whose courage and strength were extraordinary; the strength of each single person was equal to a thousand men. When they grew up, wives were taken for them, all daughters of noble and virtuous families in the country. At that time Viśākhā invited the Buddha and the Saṃgha to her house to make offerings. The Buddha preached the Dharma for them, and the whole family attained the fruit of srotāpanna; only the youngest son had not yet attained the stages of the Path. Riding an elephant, he went out on an excursion and met the chief minister's son riding in a chariot on a bridge; he seized him and threw him down into the moat beneath the bridge, injuring and breaking his body. He came and told his father. The chief minister told his son, "His strength is mighty and he is moreover a relative of the ruler; it is hard to contend and win against him. We should devise a secret revenge." He then made thirty-two horsewhips out of the seven treasures, fashioned swords of pure steel, placed them within the horsewhips, and presented one to each person. Everyone liked them, joyfully accepted them, and constantly held them in their hands, going in and out to see the king. By the law of the state, it was forbidden to carry swords when seeing the king. Seeing that they had accepted them, the chief minister calumniated them to the king, saying, "The sons of Viśākhā are in the prime of life and mighty in strength, each equal to a thousand. Now they harbor deviant plots, scheming to assassinate the king; each has made a sharp sword and placed it within his horsewhip. The matter is clearly evident." The king immediately demanded to inspect them, and indeed it was as he had said. Believing it to be true, the king executed them all. When the killing was done, he placed the thirty-two heads in a single casket, sealed and stamped it, and sent it to his sister. On that day, Viśākhā had invited the Buddha and the Saṃgha to her house to receive offerings. Seeing the casket sent by the king, she thought the king was contributing to the offering and wished to open it and look. The Buddha stopped her and did not permit it, waiting until the Saṃgha had finished eating. When the meal was over, the Buddha preached the Dharma of impermanence, suffering, and so on for her. At that time Viśākhā attained the fruit of anāgāmin. After the Buddha had departed, she opened the casket and saw the thirty-two heads of her sons. Because she had severed desire and craving, she did not fall into anguish; she merely said, "How grievous! How sorrowful! Human life ends in death and cannot long endure; galloping through the five destinies, why must there be such suffering?" When the families and kinsmen of the thirty-two sons' wives heard this matter, they lamented in anguish and cried out, "The Great King is unprincipled, falsely executing good men!" Gathering their troops and horses together, they wished to go and seek revenge. At that time the king was terrified and fled to where the Buddha was. The people led the army and surrounded the Jetavana. Seeing that the king had executed the thirty-two sons of Viśākhā and that their wives' families and kinsmen wished to take revenge, Ānanda joined his palms and asked the Buddha, "What was the cause and condition whereby the thirty-two sons were executed by the king?" The Buddha told Ānanda, "Long ago in the past, thirty-two men stole an ox belonging to another and led it together to the house of an old woman, wishing to slaughter it together. The old woman was pleased and prepared the slaughtering implements for them. When the knife was about to strike, the ox knelt down and begged for its life. The men's passions ran high, and so they slaughtered it. As it died, the ox made a vow: 'You slaughter me now; in future lives I will never let you go.' After it was dead, they ate it together. Having eaten her fill, the old woman said joyfully, 'Never have I entertained guests as I have today!'" The Buddha told Ānanda, "The ox at that time was King Prasenajit now. The men who stole the ox were the thirty-two sons of Viśākhā now. The old woman of that time was Viśākhā now. Because they slaughtered the ox, for five hundred lifetimes they have constantly been killed by it. Because the old woman rejoiced, for five hundred lifetimes she was constantly their mother, experiencing extreme anguish whenever her sons were killed. Now, because she encountered me, she has attained the fruit of anāgāmin." When the wives' families and kinsmen heard what the Buddha said, their hateful intentions subsided. Each said, "These men sowed it themselves and now receive the retribution. Even from slaughtering one ox it is still like this, how much more so for many! King Prasenajit is our king; how could we harbor resentment and wish to slay him?" They thereupon threw themselves before the king, begging for mercy and repenting; the king too was relieved and did not hold them guilty. Ānanda addressed the Buddha, "What merit did they cultivate to be noble, rich, courageous, strong, and to meet the Buddha and attain the Path?" The Buddha told Ānanda, "Long ago in the past, in the time of Kāśyapa Buddha, there was an old woman who gathered various incenses, mixed them with oil, and wished to go and plaster a stūpa. On the road she met thirty-two men and thereupon exhorted them to go together to plaster the stūpa. When the plastering was finished, they made a vow: 'May we, wherever we are born in life after life, be honoured, glorious, noble, and wealthy; may we always be mother and sons; and may we meet a Buddha and attain the Path.' From that time onward, throughout five hundred lifetimes, they were always born into high nobility and were constantly mother and sons. Now, because they encountered the Buddha, each attained the traces of the Path."