The Acts of the Buddha 1.10

1.10

太子入園林，眾女來奉迎，
並生希遇想，競媚進幽誠，
各盡伎姿態，供侍隨所宜。
或有執手足，或遍摩其身，
或復對言笑，或現憂慼容，
規以悅太子，令生愛樂心。
眾女見太子，光顏狀天身，
不假諸飾好，素體踰莊嚴，
一切皆瞻仰，謂月天子來。
種種設方便，不動菩薩心，
更互相顧視，抱愧寂無言。
有婆羅門子，名曰優陀夷，
謂諸婇女言：「汝等悉端正，
聰明多技術，色力亦不常，
兼解諸世間，隱祕隨欲方，
容色世希有，狀如王女形。
天見捨妃后，神仙為之傾，
如何人王子，不能感其情？
今此王太子，持心雖堅固，
清淨德純備，不勝女人力。
古昔孫陀利，能壞大仙人，
令習於愛欲，以足蹈其頂。
長苦行瞿曇，亦為天后壞，
勝渠仙人子，習欲隨㳂流。
毘尸婆梵仙，修道十千歲，
深著於天后，一日頓破壞。
如彼諸美女，力勝諸梵行，
況汝等技術，不能感王子？
當更勤方便，勿令絕王嗣，
女人性雖賤，尊榮隨勝天。
何不盡其術，令彼生染心？」
爾時婇女眾，慶聞優陀說，
增其踊悅心，如鞭策良馬，
往到太子前，各進種種術。
歌舞或言笑，揚眉露白齒，
美目相眄睞，輕衣現素身。
妖搖而徐步，詐親漸習近，
情欲實其心，兼奉大王旨，
慢形媟隱陋，忘其慚愧情。
太子心堅固，傲然不改容，
猶如大龍象，群象眾圍遶，
不能亂其心，處眾若閑居。
猶如天帝釋，諸天女圍繞，
太子在園林，圍繞亦如是。
或為整衣服，或為洗手足，
或以香塗身，或以華嚴飾。
或為貫瓔珞，或有扶抱身，
或為安枕席，或傾身密語。
或世俗調戲，或說眾欲事，
或作諸欲形，規以動其心。
菩薩心清淨，堅固難可轉，
聞諸婇女說，不憂亦不喜。
倍生厭思惟，嘆此為奇怪，
始知諸女人，欲心盛如是。
不知少壯色，俄頃老死壞，
哀哉此大惑，愚癡覆其心。
當思老病死，晝夜勤勗勵，
鋒刃臨其頸，如何猶嬉笑？
見他老病死，不知自觀察，
是則泥木人，當有何心慮？
如空野雙樹，華葉俱茂盛，
一已被斬伐，第二不知怖。
此等諸人輩，無心亦如是。
爾時優陀夷，來至太子所，
見宴默禪思，心無五欲想，
即白太子言：「大王先見勅，
為子作良友，今當奉誠言。
朋友有三種，能除不饒益，
成人饒益事，遭難不遺棄。
我既名善友，棄捨丈夫義，
言不盡所懷，何名為三益？
今故說真言，以表我丹誠。
年在於盛時，容色德充備，
不重於女人，斯非勝人體。
正使無實心，宜應方便納，
當生軟下心，隨順取其意。
愛欲增憍慢，無過於女人，
且今心雖背，法應方便隨。
順女心為樂，順為莊嚴具，
若人離於順，如樹無花果。
何故應隨順？攝受其事故，
已得難得境，勿起輕易想。
欲為最第一，天猶不能忘，
帝釋尚私通，瞿曇仙人妻。
阿伽陀仙人，長夜脩苦行，
為以求天后，而遂願不果。
婆羅墮仙人，及與月天子，
婆羅舍仙人，與迦賓闍羅，
如是比眾多，悉為女人壞，
況今自境界，而不能娛樂？
宿世殖德本，得此妙眾具，
世間皆樂著，而心反不珍？」
爾時王太子，聞友優陀夷，
甜辭利口辯，善說世間相。
答言優陀夷：「感汝誠心說，
我今當語汝，且復留心聽。
不薄妙境界，亦知世人樂，
但見無常相，故生患累心。
若此法常存，無老病死苦，
我亦應受樂，終無厭離心。
若令諸女色，至竟無衰變，
愛欲雖為過，猶可留人情。
人有老病死，彼應自不樂，
何況於他人，而生染著心？
非常五欲境，自身俱亦然，
而生愛樂心，此則同禽獸。
汝所引諸仙，習著五欲者，
彼即可厭患，習欲故磨滅。
又稱彼勝士，樂著五欲境，
亦復同磨滅，當知彼非勝。
若言假方便，隨順習近者，
習則真染著，何名為方便？
虛誑偽隨順，是事我不為，
真實隨順者，是則為非法。
此心難裁抑，隨事即生著，
著則不見過，如何方便隨？
處順而心乖，此理我不見。
如是老病死，大苦之積聚，
令我墜其中，此非知識說。
嗚呼優陀夷，真為大肝膽。
生老病死患，此苦甚可畏，
眼見悉朽壞，而猶樂追逐。
今我至儜劣，其心亦狹小，
思惟老病死，卒至不預期。
晝夜忘睡眠，何由習五欲？
老病死熾然，決定至無疑，
猶不知憂慼，真為木石心。」
太子為優陀，種種巧方便，
說欲為深患，不覺至日暮。
時諸婇女眾，伎樂莊嚴具，
一切悉無用，慚愧還入城。
太子見園林，莊嚴悉休廢，
伎女盡還歸，其處盡虛寂，
倍增非常想，俛仰還本宮。
父王聞太子，心絕於五欲，
極生大憂苦，如利刺貫心。
即召諸群臣，問欲設何方？
咸言非五欲，所能留其心。

The prince entered the grove, and the women came to welcome him, / all thinking it a rare encounter, vying to charm him and offer their hidden devotion. / Each exhausted her arts and postures, attending upon him as seemed fitting: / some held his hands or feet; some stroked his body all over; / some spoke and laughed before him; some showed sorrowful faces, / seeking thereby to please the prince and make him feel desire and joy. / When the women saw the prince, his radiant face was like a celestial body; / he had no need of fine ornaments—his natural form surpassed all adornment. / All gazed up at him, thinking the god of the moon had come. / Though they devised various means, they could not stir the Bodhisattva's mind; / they looked at one another in turn, filled with shame and silent. / There was a brāhmaṇa's son named Udāyin, / who spoke to the court maidens: "You are all shapely and fair, / clever and skilled in many arts, and your beauty and vigor are no common thing. / Moreover, you understand the world's secret ways of yielding to desire; / your beauty is rare in the world, your appearance like that of royal maidens. / Seeing it, gods would forsake their queens, and divine seers would be swayed by it. / How could a king's son fail to be moved in heart? / Although this prince now holds his mind firm, / and his pure virtue is fully complete, he cannot overcome the power of women. / Long ago, Sundarī was able to ruin a great seer, / making him indulge in love and desire, and tread upon his head with her foot. / Long-practicing ascetic Gautama was also undone by a celestial queen; / the seer's son, Ṛṣyaśṛṅga, practiced desire and drifted with its current. / The divine seer Viśvāmitra practiced the way for ten thousand years, / yet deeply attached to a celestial queen, was ruined in a single day. / If such beautiful women surpass the power of all holy life, / how could your arts fail to move the prince? / You must employ further diligent expedients, and not let the royal lineage be broken! / Though a woman's nature may be low, her honors depend upon the supreme god. / Why do you not exhaust your arts to make him give rise to passion?" / At that time, the troop of court maidens rejoiced to hear what Udāyin said; / their eager delight increased, like a fine horse under the whip. / Going before the prince, they each offered various arts: / singing, dancing, speaking, or laughing; raising brows and baring white teeth; / glancing with lovely eyes; showing their bare bodies through light garments. / Swaying alluringly with slow steps, feigning closeness and gradually drawing near, / desire was indeed in their hearts, and they also obeyed the great king's command; / shamelessly revealing their private charms, they forgot all sense of modesty. / The prince's mind was steadfast; lofty and proud, he did not change his countenance. / Just as a great nāga-elephant, surrounded by a herd of elephants, / cannot have his mind perturbed, remaining amidst the crowd as if in solitude; / or just as Śakra Devendra is surrounded by heavenly maidens— / so was the prince surrounded in the grove. / Some straightened his clothes; some washed his hands and feet; / some anointed his body with perfume; some adorned him with flowers. / Some strung necklaces of jewels; some embraced his body; / some arranged his cushions and mat; some bent close to whisper softly. / Some indulged in worldly play; some spoke of matters of varied desire; / some made forms of various lusts, planning thereby to move his mind. / The Bodhisattva's mind was pure, steadfast and hard to turn; / hearing what the court maidens said, he felt neither sorrow nor joy. / His thoughts of disgust redoubled, and he marveled at this as strange: / "Now I know that in women, the mind of desire is strong like this! / They do not know that youthful beauty is destroyed in an instant by old age and death. / Alas, this great delusion—folly covers their minds! / They should ponder old age, sickness, and death, striving diligently day and night; / with a sword's edge at their necks, how can they still play and laugh? / Seeing the old age, sickness, and death of others, they fail to examine themselves; / such are like men of clay or wood—what thought could they possess? / Like two trees in an open wilderness, both lush with flowers and leaves: / one is already felled, yet the second knows no fear. / These people without a mind are also just like that." / At that time, Udāyin came to where the prince was; / seeing him tranquil in silent dhyāna-reflection, his mind free of the five desires, / he spoke to the prince: "The great king previously commanded me / to be a good friend to his son; I must now offer sincere words. / There are three kinds of friends: those who can remove what is unwholesome, / those who bring about what is beneficial, and those who do not abandon you in hardship. / Since I am called a good friend, if I abandon a man's duty / and fail to speak fully what is in my heart, how could I be said to have the three benefits? / Therefore, I now speak true words to express my sincere devotion: / You are in the prime of your years, and your countenance and virtue are fully complete; / not to value women is not the nature of an exalted man. / Even if you have no true heart [for it], it is fitting to accept them by expedient means; / you should give rise to a soft, compliant mind, yielding to win their favor. / Nothing fosters arrogance in passion more than women; / and now, though your mind turns away, the proper way is to yield by expedients. / Yielding to a woman's heart brings pleasure; compliance is an ornament. / If a man lacks compliance, he is like a tree without flowers or fruit. / Why should one yield? Because of accepting their affection. / Having obtained an object rare to attain, do not give rise to light thoughts about it. / Desire is foremost—even the gods cannot forget it; / Śakra himself had secret commerce with the wife of the seer Gautama. / The seer Agastya practiced austerities through the long night; / because he sought a celestial queen, his wish was not fulfilled. / The seer Bharadvāja and the god of the moon, / the seer Parāśara and Kapiñjala— / many such as these were all ruined by women; / how much more in your own realm should you not take delight? / Having planted roots of virtue in past lives, you have obtained these fine requisites; / all the world clings joyfully to them, yet your heart, on the contrary, does not cherish them?" / At that time, the prince, hearing his friend Udāyin's / sweet words and sharp eloquence skillfully expounding the worldly aspects, / replied to Udāyin: "I am moved by your sincere words; / I shall now tell you—listen with your mind attentive. / I do not despise fine sense-objects, and I know worldly pleasures; / but seeing the mark of impermanence, I give rise to a mind of weary distress. / If this state could endure forever, free from the suffering of old age, sickness, and death, / I too would accept pleasure and never have a mind of turning away. / If women's beauty could be made never to decay to the very end, / though passion is a fault, it might still hold human feelings. / When men have old age, sickness, and death, they themselves should take no joy; / how much less should they give rise to passionate attachment toward others? / The objects of the five desires are impermanent, and one's own body is the same; / to give rise to love and joy in them is to be no different from beasts. / As for those seers you cited who indulged in the five desires, / they are indeed to be deplored; because they indulged in desire, they perished. / Moreover, you call those exalted men who rejoiced in the realm of the five desires; / they too met with destruction; know, therefore, that they were not exalted. / If you say one should yield and draw near to them through expedients, / then drawing near is true defilement—how can it be called an expedient? / To yield through false deceit is something I will not do; / and to yield in reality is unrighteous. / This mind is hard to restrain; it forms attachment as soon as it meets an object. / When attached, it sees no fault—how could one yield by expedients? / To comply outwardly while the mind turns away—such a principle I cannot see. / Such a heap of great suffering as old age, sickness, and death— / to cause me to fall into it is not the talk of a wise friend. / Alas, Udāyin, you are bold indeed! / The perils of birth, old age, sickness, and death—this suffering is exceedingly fearsome; / seeing all decay with your own eyes, you still joyfully pursue them. / Now I am utterly weak, and my heart is narrow: / reflecting that old age, sickness, and death will arrive suddenly and without notice, / day and night I forget sleep; how could I indulge in the five desires? / Old age, sickness, and death blaze fiercely, certain to come without doubt; / yet to know no sorrow is truly to have a heart of wood and stone." / For Udāyin's sake, the prince, using various skillful expedients, / spoke of desires as deep perils, unaware that evening had arrived. / Then the troop of court maidens, their music and ornaments / all proving useless, returned into the city in shame. / When the prince saw the grove's adornments entirely ceased, / the singing girls all gone home, and the place completely empty and quiet, / his thought of impermanence redoubled, and bowing his head, he returned to his palace. / When the king heard that the prince's mind was cut off from the five desires, / he felt immense grief and distress, as if a sharp thorn pierced his heart. / He immediately summoned his ministers, asking what means they should devise; / all said that the five desires were not what could detain his mind.