The Acts of the Buddha 5.14

5.14

彼諸力士眾，奉事於舍利，
以勝妙香花，興無上供養。
時七國諸王，承佛已滅度，
遣使詣力士，請求佛舍利。
彼諸力士眾，敬重如來身，
兼恃其勇健，而起憍慢心，
寧捨自身命，不捨佛舍利。
彼使悉空還，七王大忿恨，
興軍如雲雨，來詣鳩夷城。
人民出城者，悉皆驚怖還，
告諸力士眾：「諸國軍馬來，
象馬車步眾，圍遶鳩夷城。
城外諸園林，泉池花果樹，
軍眾悉踐蹈，榮觀悉摧碎。」
力士登城觀，生業悉破壞，
嚴備戰鬪具，以擬於外敵，
弓弩𢱍石車，飛炬獨發來。
七王圍遶城，軍眾各精銳，
羽儀盛明顯，猶如七耀光，
鍾鼓如雷霆，勇氣盛雲霧。
力士大奮怒，開門而命敵，
長宿諸士女，心信佛法者，
驚怖發誠願，伏彼而不害，
隨親相勸諫，不欲令鬪戰。
勇士被重鉀，揮戈舞長劍，
鍾鼓而亂鳴，執仗鋒未交。
有一婆羅門，名曰獨樓那，
多聞智略勝，謙虛眾所宗。
慈心樂正法，告彼諸王言：
「觀彼城形勢，一人亦足當。
況復齊心力，而不能伏彼？
正使相摧滅，復有何德稱？
利鋒刃既交，勢無有兩全，
困此而害彼，二俱有所傷。
鬪戰多機變，形勢難測量，
或有強勝弱，或弱而勝強。
健夫輕毒蛇，豈不傷其身？
有人性柔弱，群女子所獎。
臨陣成戰士，如火得膏油，
鬪莫輕弱敵，謂彼無所堪，
身力不足恃，不如法力強。
古昔有勝王，名迦蘭陀摩，
端坐起慈心，能伏大怨敵。
雖王四天下，名稱財利豐，
終歸亦皆盡，如牛飲飽歸。
應以法以義，應以和方便，
戰勝增其怨，和勝後無患。
今結飲血讐，此事甚不可，
為欲供養佛，應隨佛忍辱。」
如是婆羅門，決定吐誠實，
方宜義和理，而作無畏說。
爾時彼諸王，告婆羅門言：
「汝今善應時，黠慧義饒益，
親密至誠言，順法依強理。
且聽我所說，為王者之法，
或因五欲諍，嫌恨競強力；
或因其嬉戲，不急致戰爭；
吾等今為法，戰爭復何怪？
憍慢而違義，世人尚伏從，
況佛離憍慢，化人令謙下，
我等而不能，亡身而供養？
昔諸大地主，弼瑟阿難陀，
為一端正女，戰爭相摧滅；
況今為供養，清淨離欲師，
愛身而惜命，不以力爭求，
先王驕羅婆，與般那婆戰，
展轉更相破，正為貪利故；
況為無貪師，而復貪其生？
羅摩仙人子，瞋恨千臂王，
破國殺人民，正為瞋恚故；
況為無恚師，而惜於身命？
羅摩為私陀，殺害諸鬼國；
況無攝受師，不為其沒命？
阿利及婆俱，二鬼常結怨，
正為愚癡故，廣害於眾生；
況為智慧師，而復惜身命？
如是比眾多，無義而自喪，
況今天人師，普世所恭敬，
計身而惜命，不勤求供養？
汝若欲止爭，為吾等入城，
勸彼令開解，使我願得滿。
以汝法言故，令我心小息，
猶如盛毒蛇，呪力故暫止。」
爾時婆羅門，受彼諸王教，
入城詣力士，問訊以告誠：
「外諸人中王，手執利器仗，
身被於重鉀，精銳耀日光，
奮師子勇氣，咸欲滅此城。
然其為法故，猶畏非法行，
是故遣我來，旨欲有所白。
我不為土地，亦不求錢財，
不以憍慢心，亦無懷恨心，
恭敬大仙故，而來至於此；
汝當知我意，何為苦相違？
尊奉彼我同，則為法兄弟，
世尊之遺靈，一心共供養。
慳惜於錢財，此則非大過，
法慳過最甚，普世之所薄。
決定不通者，當修待賓法，
無有剎利法，閉門而自防。
彼等悉如是，告此吉凶法。
我今私所懷，亦告其誠實，
莫彼此相違，理應共和合。
世尊在於世，常以忍辱教，
不順於聖教，云何名供養？
世人以五欲，財利田宅諍，
若為正法者，應隨順聖理，
為法而結怨，此則理相違。
佛寂靜慈悲，常欲安一切，
供養於大悲，而興於大害？
應等分舍利，普令得供養，
順法名稱流，義通理則宣。
若彼非法行，當以法和之，
是則為樂法，令法得久住。
佛說一切施，法施為最勝，
人斯行財施，行法施者難。」
力士聞彼說，內愧互相視，
報彼梵志言：「深感汝來意，
親善順法言，和理雅正說，
梵志之所應，隨順自功德。
善和於彼此，示我以要道，
如制迷塗馬，還得於正路。
今當用和理，從汝之所說，
誠言而不顧，後必生悔恨。」
即開佛舍利，等分為八分，
自供養一分，七分付梵志。
七王得舍利，歡喜而頂受，
持歸還自國，起塔加供養。
梵志求力士，得分舍利瓶，
又從彼七王，求分第八分，
持歸起支提，號名金瓶塔。
俱夷那竭人，聚集餘灰炭，
而起一支提，名曰灰炭塔。
八王起八塔，金瓶及灰炭，
如是閻浮提，始起於十塔。
舉國諸士女，悉持寶花蓋，
隨塔而供養，莊嚴若金山，
種種諸伎樂，晝夜長讚嘆。
時五百羅漢，永失大師蔭，
恇然無所恃，還耆闍崛山。
集彼帝釋巖，結集諸經藏，
一切皆共推，長老阿難陀，
如來前後說，巨細汝悉聞，
鞞提醯牟尼，當為大眾說。
阿難大眾中，昇於師子座，
如佛說而說，稱如是我聞。
合坐悉涕流，

Those Mallas attended to the relics,
with exquisite fragrant flowers raising supreme offerings.
At that time, the kings of seven kingdoms, hearing that the Buddha had passed into extinction,
sent messengers to the Mallas to request the Buddha's relics.
Those Mallas reverenced the Tathāgata's body,
and relying on their own bravery, arrogance arose in their minds:
"We would rather surrender our own lives than surrender the Buddha's relics!"
Those messengers all returned empty-handed, and the seven kings grew furious;
raising armies like clouds and rain, they approached the city of Kuśinagara.
The townspeople who had gone out of the city all fled back in fright and terror,
and informed the Mallas: "The armies and horses of the various states are arriving;
elephants, horses, chariots, and foot soldiers surround the city of Kuśinagara.
The groves and orchards outside the city, the springs, pools, and flowering fruit trees,
the military host has trampled them down, and all their splendid sights are crushed and ruined!"
The Mallas climbed the city walls to look, and seeing their livelihoods entirely destroyed,
they fully prepared weapons of war to counter the external foes:
bows, crossbows, stone-throwing catapults, and blazing torches flew in independent salvos.
The seven kings surrounded the city, their troops all sharp and resolute,
their banners and insignia grand and brilliant, like the light of the seven luminaries;
their drums and bells were like thunder, their martial spirits surging like clouds and mist.
The Mallas, violently enraged, opened the gates and challenged the enemy.
The elders and women of the city, whose hearts had faith in the Buddha's Dharma,
in fright and dread made sincere vows that the foe be subdued without being harmed;
following their relatives, they admonished one another, not wishing that a battle take place.
Brave warriors donned heavy armor, brandished halberds, and danced with long swords;
bells and drums sounded in confusion, yet with weapons held, the blades had not yet crossed.
There was a brāhmaṇa named Droṇa,
of wide learning and superior strategy, humble, and revered by the assembly.
With a mind of compassion, delighting in the saddharma, he addressed those kings, saying:
"Observe the defensive terrain of that city: even one man would suffice to hold it.
How much more so if they unite their strength—could one not fail to subdue them?
Even if you annihilate one another, what virtue or renown would there be in that?
Once the sharp blades cross, circumstances allow neither side to be preserved whole;
oppressing this side while harming that side, both alike will suffer injury.
Warfare has many shifts and stratagems, its circumstances are difficult to fathom;
sometimes the strong defeat the weak, and sometimes the weak defeat the strong.
If a vigorous man makes light of a venomous snake, how could it not harm his body?
There are men who are gentle by nature, praised among womenfolk,
yet facing the battle line they become warriors, like fire receiving oil.
In fighting, do not make light of a weak foe, supposing that they are incapable of anything;
bodily strength is not to be relied upon: it is not as strong as the power of Dharma.
In ancient times there was an excellent king named Karandhama,
who, sitting upright, gave rise to a mind of compassion and was able to subdue a great enemy.
Though one rules the four continents, rich in fame, wealth, and profit,
in the end it all comes to an end, like an ox returning satiated from drinking.
One should act in accordance with Dharma and justice; one should act by peaceful expedients.
Victory in war increases enmity; victory through peace brings no subsequent woe.
Now to contract a blood-drinking grudge—this matter is truly impermissible.
For the sake of wishing to make offerings to the Buddha, one should follow the Buddha's patience."
Thus the brāhmaṇa, with resolution, spoke the truth,
in accordance with propriety, justice, peace, and reason, uttering this fearless discourse.
Then those kings addressed the brāhmaṇa, saying:
"You have now spoken well and opportunely, with cleverness, justice, and benefit;
your words are intimate and sincere, conforming to Dharma and relying on powerful reason.
Now listen to what we say: as for the ways of kings,
sometimes they contend over the five desires, striving for power out of resentment;
sometimes, because of mere amusement, non-urgent matters lead to war;
now we are acting for the sake of the Dharma—what is strange about waging war?
Even when someone is arrogant and violates righteousness, the world still submits and yields to him;
how much more so for the Buddha, who is free from arrogance and transforms people to make them humble—
how could we fail to lay down our lives to make offerings to him?
In the past, the great rulers of the earth, Sunda and Upasunda,
annihilated each other in war for the sake of a single fair maiden;
how much more so now, to make offerings to the pure Master free from desire,
should we cling to our bodies and spare our lives, and not strive by force to seek them?
The former kings, the Kauravas, fought with the Pāṇḍavas,
destroying one another in turn, solely out of greed for profit;
how much more so for the Master free from greed—should we still covet our lives?
The son of the ṛṣi Rāma, harboring wrath against the thousand-armed king,
destroyed the realm and slew its people, solely out of anger;
how much more so for the Master free from anger—should we spare our bodily lives?
Rāma, for the sake of Sītā, slaughtered the realms of the rākṣasas;
how much more so for the Master free from grasping—should we not perish for his sake?
Ilvala and Vātāpi, the two asuras, constantly bore malice,
and solely out of folly, harmed living beings far and wide;
how much more so for the Master of wisdom—should we still spare our bodily lives?
Cases like these are many, where men destroyed themselves for no worthy cause;
how much more so now, for the Teacher of Gods and Men, who is revered by the entire world—
should we take thought for our bodies and spare our lives, and not diligently seek to make offerings?
If you wish to halt the strife, enter the city for our sake,
admonish them to bring them to understanding, so that our wishes may be fulfilled.
Because of your words of Dharma, our minds have rested a little,
just as a raging venomous serpent is halted for a time by the power of a mantra."
Then the brāhmaṇa, receiving the command of those kings,
entered the city, approached the Mallas, and having inquired after them, declared with sincerity:
"The kings among men outside hold sharp weapons in their hands,
their bodies don heavy armor, their keen forces gleam like sunlight;
roused with the courage of lions, they all desire to destroy this city.
Yet because they act for the Dharma, they still fear unrighteous conduct;
therefore they sent me here, with an intent they wish to make known:
'I come not for land, nor do I seek wealth;
not with an arrogant mind, nor harboring resentment,
but out of reverence for the Great Ṛṣi do I come here.
You should know my intention; why must you stubbornly oppose us?
Our veneration is the same as yours; thus we are brothers in the Dharma.
Let us with one mind together make offerings to the sacred remains of the World-Honoured One.
To be stingy with wealth is not a great fault,
but stinginess with the Dharma is the gravest transgression, disdained by the whole world.
If you are resolved not to accommodate us, you should observe the rules for receiving guests;
it is not the kṣatriya code to shut your gates and defend yourselves.'
They all thus proclaimed these principles of auspiciousness and calamity.
What I myself privately hold in my heart, I also declare with sincerity:
let not this side and that side oppose each other; in reason you ought to harmonize.
When the World-Honoured One was in the world, he always taught patience;
if you do not comply with the noble teaching, how can it be called making offerings?
Worldly people contend over the five desires, wealth, profit, fields, and houses;
if one acts for the sake of the saddharma, one should comply with the noble truth.
To contract enmity for the sake of the Dharma is contrary to reason.
The Buddha is serene, compassionate, and benevolent, ever wishing to bring peace to all;
can one make offerings to the Great Compassionate One while causing great harm?
You should divide the relics equally, so that all everywhere may obtain them to make offerings;
complying with Dharma, your renown will spread; justice being accommodated, reason will prevail.
If they act contrary to Dharma, you should harmonize with them through the Dharma;
this is what it means to delight in the Dharma and cause the Dharma to endure long.
The Buddha taught that among all givings, the gift of Dharma is supreme;
men practice the gift of wealth, but those who practice the gift of Dharma are rare."
The Mallas, hearing his words, felt inner shame and looked at one another,
and replied to that brahmacārin, saying: "We are deeply moved by the intent of your coming;
your kind, friendly, and Dharma-conforming words are a peaceful, reasoned, elegant, and correct discourse,
befitting a brahmacārin, in accordance with your own virtue.
You have harmonized both sides well and shown us the essential path,
just as one reins in a straying horse so that it regains the right road.
Now we shall adopt peaceful reason and comply with what you have said;
if we disregard sincere words, regret and remorse will surely arise hereafter."
Thereupon they opened the Buddha's relics and divided them equally into eight portions,
retaining one portion for their own offerings and delivering seven portions to the brahmacārin.
The seven kings received the relics, joyfully placing them upon their heads,
and brought them back to their own kingdoms, where they raised stūpas and offered worship.
The brahmacārin begged the Mallas and obtained the urn that had held the relics;
he also begged of those seven kings, and obtained a share of the eighth portion,
which he brought back and raised as a caitya, named the Golden Urn Stūpa.
The people of Kuśinagara gathered the remaining ashes and charcoal
and raised a caitya named the Ashes and Charcoal Stūpa.
The eight kings raised eight stūpas, and together with the Golden Urn and the Ashes and Charcoal,
thus in Jambudvīpa there were first raised ten stūpas.
The men and women throughout those lands all held canopies of precious flowers,
making offerings following the stūpas, adorned like golden mountains,
with various kinds of instrumental music, praising and extolling day and night without end.
At that time, the five hundred arhats, having forever lost the shade of the Great Master,
felt desolate with nothing to rely upon, and returned to Gṛdhrakūṭaparvata.
Gathering at that cavern of Śakra, they compiled the treasuries of the sūtras.
All united in deferring to the elder Ānanda:
"The Tathāgata's earlier and later discourses, large and small, you heard them all;
O Vaideha Muni, please expound them for the great assembly!"
Ānanda, amidst the great assembly, ascended the lion seat,
and expounded them as the Buddha had spoken, reciting: 'Thus have I heard.'
The entire assembly shed tears,