Thereupon that flock of birds, reflecting, “The monk begs feathers,

the monk wants feathers,” departed from that forest-grove. When they

departed, they departed indeed, and never came back again.

“For, monks, to living beings in the form of animals, begging is said

to have been offensive, hinting is said to have been offensive. How

much more so must it be to human beings!”

_17. Dragon Jewel-Neck._

_Nobody loves a beggar._

_A. Canonical version._

Vinaya iii. 145-147.

On a certain occasion the Exalted One reproved the monks for begging.

Said he:

In olden times two ascetics, brothers, lived by the Ganges river. Now

Jewel-neck, a dragon-king, came out of the Ganges, approached the

younger ascetic, and having approached, encircled the younger ascetic

seven times with his coils and rose and spread his huge hood over his

head. And the younger ascetic, for fear of that dragon, became lean,

dried-up, pale, yellow as ever was yellow, his body strewn with veins.

The older ascetic saw the younger ascetic lean, dried-up, pale, yellow

as ever was yellow, his body strewn with veins. Seeing, he said this

to the younger ascetic: “Why are you lean, dried-up, pale, yellow as

ever was yellow, your body strewn with veins?” “While I was here,

Jewel-neck, a dragon-king, came out of the Ganges river, approached me,

and having approached, encircled me seven times with his coils and

rose and spread his huge hood over my head. For fear of him I am lean,

dried-up, pale, yellow as ever was yellow, my body strewn with veins.”

“But do you wish that dragon never to come back again?” “I wish that

dragon never to come back again.” “Well, but do you see anything on

that dragon?” “I see he wears a jewel on his neck.” “Well then, ask

that dragon for the jewel, saying: ‘Give me the jewel! I want the

jewel!’”

Now Jewel-neck the dragon-king came out of the Ganges river, approached

the younger ascetic, and having approached, stood aside. As he stood

aside, the younger ascetic said this to Jewel-neck the dragon-king:

“Give me the jewel! I want the jewel!” Thereupon Jewel-neck the

dragon-king, reflecting, “The monk begs the jewel, the monk wants the

jewel,” quickly enough departed.

Three times did the younger ascetic beg the jewel of Jewel-neck the

dragon-king, and three times did Jewel-neck the dragon-king depart. The

third time, Jewel-neck the dragon-king addressed the younger ascetic

with stanzas:

My food and drink, abundant, choice,

I get by the power of this jewel.

This I will not give you,--you ask too much;

Nor will I even come back again to your hermitage.

Like a lad with sand-washed sword in hand,

You frighten me, asking for the stone.

This I will not give you,--you ask too much;

Nor will I even come back again to your hermitage.

Thereupon Jewel-neck the dragon-king, reflecting, “The monk begs the

jewel, the monk wants the jewel,” departed. When he departed, he

departed indeed, and never came back again. And the younger ascetic,

because he saw no more that dragon so fair to see, became more than

ever lean, dried-up, pale, yellow as ever was yellow, his body strewn

with veins.

When the older ascetic saw the younger ascetic altered in appearance,

he inquired the reason. The younger ascetic told him. Then the older

ascetic addressed the younger ascetic with a stanza:

One should not beg or seek to get what is dear to another.

Odious does one become by asking overmuch.

When the Brahman asked the dragon for the jewel,

Never again did the dragon let himself be seen.

“For, monks, to living beings in the form of animals, begging is said

to have been offensive, hinting is said to have been offensive. How

much more so must it be to human beings!”

_B. Uncanonical version._

Jātaka 258: ii. 283-286.

On a certain occasion the Exalted One reproved the monks for begging.

Said he: “Monks, begging is offensive even to dragons, though the

World of Dragons wherein they dwell is filled to overflowing with the

Seven Jewels. How much more so must it be to human beings, from whom

it is as difficult to wring a penny as it is to skin a flint!” So

saying, he related the following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha was

reborn in a Brahman household of great wealth. When he was old enough

to walk and could run hither and thither, another being of merit also

received a new existence as his brother. When both brothers reached

manhood, their mother and father died. In agitation of heart over

their death, both brothers adopted the life of ascetics, and building

leaf-huts on the bank of the Ganges, took up their residence there. The

older brother’s hut was up the Ganges; the younger brother’s hut was

down the Ganges.

Now one day a dragon-king named Jewel-neck came forth from the World

of Dragons, walked along the bank of the Ganges disguised as a Brahman

youth, came to the hermitage of the younger ascetic, bowed, and sat

down on one side. The dragon-king and the younger ascetic greeted each

other in a cordial manner, and became fast friends and inseparable

companions.

Every day Jewel-neck would come to the hermitage of the younger ascetic

and sit down and talk and converse with him. When it was time for him

to go, out of affection for the ascetic he would lay aside his human

form, encircle the ascetic with his coils, and embrace him, holding his

huge hood over his head. Having remained in this position for a time,

and having dispelled his affection, he would unwind his body, bow to

the ascetic, and go back again to his own abode.

The ascetic, for fear of him, became lean, dried-up, pale, yellow as

ever was yellow, his body strewn with veins. One day he went to visit

his brother. The latter asked him: “Why are you lean, dried-up, pale,

yellow as ever was yellow, your body strewn with veins?” He told him

the facts. The older ascetic asked: “But do you or do you not wish that

dragon never to come back again?” The younger ascetic said: “I do not.”

“But when that dragon-king comes to your hermitage, what ornament does

he wear?” “A jewel.”

“Well then, when that dragon-king comes to your hermitage, before he

has a chance to sit down, ask, saying: ‘Give me the jewel.’ If you do

so, that dragon-king will depart without so much as encircling you

with his coils. On the next day you must stand at the door of your

hermitage and ask him just as he approaches. On the third day you must

stand on the bank of the Ganges and ask him just as he comes out of the

water. If you do so, he will not come back to your hermitage.”

[Illustration: _Every day Jewel-neck the dragon-king would encircle him

with his coils._]

“Very well,” assented the ascetic, and went to his own leaf-hut. On the

next day the dragon-king came and stopped at the hermitage. The moment

he stopped, the ascetic asked: “Give me this jewel you wear.” Without

so much as sitting down, the dragon-king fled. On the second day the

ascetic, standing at the door of the hermitage, said to the dragon-king

just as he approached: “Yesterday you would not give me the jewel;

to-day I must have it.” Without so much as entering the hermitage, the

dragon-king fled. On the third day the ascetic said to the dragon-king

just as he came out of the water: “This is the third day I have asked;

give me this jewel now.” The dragon-king, still remaining in the water,

refused the ascetic, reciting these two stanzas:

My food and drink, abundant, choice,

I get by the power of this jewel.

This I will not give you,--you ask too much;

Nor will I even come back again to your hermitage.

Like a lad with sand-washed sword in hand,

You frighten me, asking for the stone.

This I will not give you,--you ask too much;

Nor will I even come back again to your hermitage.

So saying, that dragon-king plunged into the water, went back to his

own World of Dragons, and never came back again. And that ascetic,

because he saw no more that dragon-king so fair to see, became more

than ever lean, dried-up, pale, yellow as ever was yellow, his body

strewn with veins.

Now the older ascetic, thinking, “I will find out how my younger

brother is getting on,” went to visit him. Seeing that he was suffering

more than ever from jaundice, he said: “How comes it that you are

suffering more than ever from jaundice?” “Because I see no more that

dragon so fair to see.” “This ascetic cannot get along without the

dragon-king,” concluded the older ascetic, and recited the third stanza:

One should not beg or seek to get what is dear to another.

Odious does one become by asking overmuch.

When the Brahman asked the dragon for the jewel,

Never again did the dragon let himself be seen.

Having thus addressed him, the older ascetic comforted him, saying:

“Henceforth grieve not;” and went back again to his own hermitage.

Said the Teacher: “Thus, monks, even to dragons, though the World

of Dragons wherein they dwell is filled to overflowing with the

Seven Jewels, begging is offensive. How much more so must it be to

human beings!” And having completed this parable, he identified the

personages in the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the younger

brother was my favorite disciple, but the older brother was I myself.”

_18. Snake-Charm._

_A blessing upon all living beings!_

_A. Canonical version._

Vinaya ii. 109-110.

Now at that time a certain monk was bitten by a snake and died. They

reported that fact to the Exalted One.

Assuredly, monks, that monk had not suffused the four royal families of

snakes with friendly thoughts. For, monks, if that monk had suffused

the four royal families of snakes with friendly thoughts, in that case,

monks, that monk would not have been bitten by a snake and died.

What are the four royal families of snakes?

The Virūpakkhas are a royal family of snakes.

The Erāpathas are a royal family of snakes.

The Chabyāputtas are a royal family of snakes.

The Black Gotamakas are a royal family of snakes.

Assuredly, monks, that monk had not suffused the four royal families of

snakes with friendly thoughts. For, monks, if that monk had suffused

the four royal families of snakes with friendly thoughts, in that

case, monks, that monk would not have been bitten by a snake and died.

I permit you, monks, to suffuse these four royal families of snakes

with friendly thoughts; for self-preservation, for self-defense, to

effect Protection of Self. And this, monks, may be effected in the

following way:

There is friendship ’twixt me and Virūpakkha snakes,

There is friendship ’twixt me and Erāpatha snakes,

There is friendship ’twixt me and Chabyāputta snakes,

There is friendship ’twixt me and Black Gotamaka snakes.

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings without feet,

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings with two feet,

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings with four feet,

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings with many feet.

Let no living being without feet injure me!

Let no living being with two feet injure me!

Let no living being with four feet injure me!

Let no living being with many feet injure me!

Let all creatures that live,--let all creatures that breathe,--

Let all creatures that exist,--one and all,--

Let all meet with prosperity!

Let none come unto any adversity!

Infinite is the Buddha! Infinite is the Doctrine! Infinite is the

Order!

Finite are creeping things,--snakes and scorpions, centipedes,

spiders and lizards, rats and mice!

I have wrought defense for myself!

I have wrought protection for myself!

Begone, living beings!

I here do homage to the Exalted One

And to the Seven Supreme Buddhas!

_B. Uncanonical version._

Jātaka 203: ii. 144-148.

_There is friendship ’twixt me and Virūpakkha snakes._ This parable

was related by the Teacher while he was in residence at Jetavana with

reference to a certain monk.

The story goes that while he was splitting wood at the door of the

room where the monks took hot baths, a snake came out of a hole

in a rotten log and bit him on the big toe. He died on the spot.

The news of his death and of how he came to die spread throughout

the monastery. In the Hall of Truth the monks began to discuss the

incident: “Brethren, such-and-such a monk, they say, while splitting

wood at the door of the room where the monks take hot baths, was

bitten by a snake and died on the spot.”

The Teacher drew near and inquired: “Monks, what is the subject

that engages your attention as you sit here all gathered together?”

“Such-and-such,” said they. “Monks,” said the Teacher, “if that monk

had cultivated friendship for the four royal families of snakes, the

snake would not have bitten him. For even ascetics of old, before a

Buddha had arisen, cultivated friendship for the four royal families

of snakes, and thus obtained deliverance from the perils that arose

through those royal families of snakes.” So saying, he related the

following Story of the Past:

In times past, when Brahmadatta ruled at Benāres, the Future Buddha

was reborn in the kingdom of Kāsi in the household of a Brahman. When

he reached manhood, he renounced the pleasures of sense, retired

from the world and adopted the life of an ascetic, and developed the

Supernatural Powers and the Attainments. By supernatural power, in the

region of Himavat, at a bend in the Ganges, he created a hermitage,

and there he resided, surrounded by a company of ascetics, diverting

himself with the diversions of the Trances.

At that time, on the bank of the Ganges, reptiles of various kinds

wrought such havoc among the ascetics that many of them lost their

lives. Ascetics reported that fact to the Future Buddha. The Future

Buddha caused all of the ascetics to be assembled, and said to them:

“If you would cultivate friendship for the four royal families of

snakes, the snakes would not bite you. Therefore from this time forth,

cultivate friendship for the four royal families of snakes in the

following way.” So saying, he recited this stanza:

There is friendship ’twixt me and Virūpakkha snakes,

There is friendship ’twixt me and Erāpatha snakes,

There is friendship ’twixt me and Chabyāputta snakes,

There is friendship ’twixt me and Black Gotamaka snakes.

Having thus pointed out to them the four royal families of serpents,

he said: “In case you are successful in cultivating friendship for

these, reptiles will not bite you or annoy you.” So saying, he recited

the second stanza:

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings without feet,

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings with two feet,

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings with four feet,

There is friendship ’twixt me and living beings with many feet.

Having thus set forth Cultivation of Friendship in the usual form, he

next set it forth by way of prayer, reciting this stanza:

Let no living being without feet injure me!

Let no living being with two feet injure me!

Let no living being with four feet injure me!

Let no living being with many feet injure me!

Next, setting forth Cultivation of Friendship without respect of

persons, he recited this stanza:

Let all creatures that live,--let all creatures that breathe,--

Let all creatures that exist,--one and all,--

Let all meet with prosperity!

Let none come unto any adversity!

“Thus,” said he, “cultivate friendship for all living beings without

respect of persons.” Having so said, he spoke once more, to bid them

meditate on the virtues of the Three Jewels. Said he: “Infinite is the

Buddha! Infinite is the Doctrine! Infinite is the Order!”

When the Future Buddha had thus pointed out that the virtues of the

Three Jewels are infinite, he said: “Meditate on the virtues of these

Three Jewels.” Having so said, in order to point out that living

beings are finite, he continued: “Finite are creeping things,--snakes,

scorpions, centipedes, spiders, lizards, rats and mice!”

Having so said, the Future Buddha declared: “Since lust, ill-will,

and delusion, which exist in these creatures, are the qualities which

make creatures finite, therefore these creeping things are finite.”

And he said: “By the supernatural power of the Three Jewels, which

are infinite, let those of us who are finite, obtain protection for

ourselves both by night and by day.” And he said: “Thus meditate on the

virtues of the Three Jewels.” Having so said, in order to point out

what more must yet be done, he recited this stanza:

I have wrought defense for myself!

I have wrought protection for myself!

Begone, living beings!

I here do homage to the Exalted One

And to the Seven Supreme Buddhas!

Said the Future Buddha: “In the very act of rendering homage, meditate

on the Seven Buddhas.” Thus the Future Buddha composed this protective

charm for the company of ascetics and gave it to them.

From that time on the company of ascetics, abiding steadfast in the

admonition of the Future Buddha, cultivated friendliness, meditated on

the virtues of the Buddhas. Even as they thus meditated on the virtues

of the Buddhas, all of the reptiles disappeared. As for the Future

Buddha, through the cultivation of the Exalted States, he attained the

goal of the World of Brahmā.

_19. Partridge, Monkey, and Elephant._

_Reverence your elders._

_A. Canonical version._

Vinaya ii. 161-162.

On a certain occasion the Exalted One admonished a company of monks

to show proper respect for their elders. Said he:

In former times, monks, on a slope of Himavat, grew a huge banyan

tree. Near it lived three friends: a partridge and a monkey and an

elephant. They lived without respect or deference for each other,

having no common life. Now, monks, to these friends occurred the

following thought: “If only we knew which one of us was the oldest, we

would respect, reverence, venerate, and honor him, and we would abide

steadfast in his admonitions.”

Accordingly, monks, the partridge and the monkey asked the elephant:

“How far back, sir, can you remember?” “Sirs, when I was a youngster, I

used to walk over this banyan tree, keeping it between my thighs; the

little tips of the shoots would just touch my belly. As far back as

that, sirs, can I remember.”

Next, monks, the partridge and the elephant asked the monkey: “How far

back, sir, can you remember?” “Sirs, when I was a youngster, I used to

sit on the ground and eat the little tips of the shoots of this banyan

tree. As far back as that, sirs, can I remember.”

Finally, monks, the monkey and the elephant asked the partridge: “How

far back, sir, can you remember?” “In yonder open space, sirs, grew a

huge banyan tree. I ate one of its fruits and dropped the seed in this

place. From that sprang this banyan tree. At that time also, sirs, I

was the oldest.”

Thereupon, monks, the monkey and the elephant said this to the

partridge: “You, sir, are our elder. You will we respect, reverence,

venerate, and honor, and in your admonitions will we abide steadfast.”

Accordingly, monks, the partridge prevailed upon the monkey and the

elephant to take upon themselves the Five Precepts, and himself also

took upon himself the Five Precepts and walked therein. They lived in

respect and deference for each other, and had a common life. After

death, upon dissolution of the body, they were reborn in a place of

bliss, in a heavenly world. This, monks, was called the Holy Life of

the Partridge.

Men versed in the Law who honor the aged

Have praise even in this life

And in the next life are in bliss.

_B. Uncanonical version._

Jātaka 37: i. 217-220.

On a certain occasion the Teacher admonished a company of monks to

show proper respect for their elders. Said he: “In former times,

monks, even animals reflected: ‘But it is not becoming in us that

we should live without respect or deference for each other, having

no common life. Let us find out which one of us is the oldest, and

to him let us offer respectful greetings and the other marks of

courtesy.’ And when, after diligent inquiry, they knew, ‘He is our

elder,’ to him did they offer respectful greetings and the other

marks of courtesy. And having so done, they departed, fulfilling the

Path to Heaven.” So saying, he related the following Story of the

Past:

In times past, on a slope of Himavat, near a certain huge banyan tree,

lived three friends: a partridge, a monkey, an elephant. They were

without respect or deference for each other, having no common life.

And to them occurred the following thought: “It is not proper for us

to live thus. Suppose we were to live hereafter offering respectful

greetings and the other marks of courtesy to that one of us who is the

oldest!” “But which one of us is the oldest?” they considered. “This is

the way!” said the three animals one day as they sat at the foot of the

banyan tree.

So the partridge and the monkey asked the elephant: “Master elephant,

since how long have you known this banyan tree?” He said: “Friends,

when I was a young elephant, I used to go with this banyan sapling

between my thighs. Moreover, when I stood with the tree between my

thighs, the tips of its branches used to rub against my belly. Thus I

have known this tree from the time it was a sapling.”

Next the other two animals, in the same way as before, asked the

monkey. He said: “Friends, when I was a young monkey, I used to sit

on the earth, extend my neck, and eat the tips of the shoots of this

banyan tree. Thus I have known it since it was very small.”

Finally the other two animals, in the same way as before, asked the

partridge. He said: “Friends, in former times, in such-and-such a

place, grew a huge banyan tree. I ate its fruits and dropped its seed

in this place. From that sprang this tree. Thus I know this tree from

the time when it had not yet sprouted. Therefore I am older than you.”

Thus spoke the partridge.

Thereupon the monkey and the elephant said to the wise partridge:

“Master, you are older than we. Henceforth to you will we offer

respect, reverence, veneration, salutation, and honor; to you will we

offer respectful greeting, rising on meeting, homage with joined hands,

and proper courtesy; in your admonitions will we abide steadfast. From

this time forth, therefore, be good enough to give us admonition and

needed instruction.”

From that time forth the partridge gave them admonition, established

them in the Precepts, and himself also took upon himself the Precepts.

And those three animals, established in the Precepts, showed respect

and deference for each other, and had a common life. When their life

was come to an end, they attained the goal of a heavenly world. The

taking upon themselves by these three animals of the Precepts was

called the Holy Life of the Partridge.

“For, monks, those animals lived in respect and deference for each

other. Why is it that you, who have retired from the world under a

Doctrine and Discipline so well taught, do not live in respect and

deference for each other?”

When the Teacher had thus related this parable, he assumed the

prerogative of One Supremely Enlightened and uttered the following

stanza:

Men versed in the Law who honor the aged

Have praise even in this life

And in the next life are in bliss.

When the Teacher had thus extolled the practice of honoring the

oldest, he joined the connection and identified the personages in

the Birth-story as follows: “At that time the elephant was one of

my disciples, the monkey was another, but the wise partridge was I

myself.”

_20. The Hawk._

_Walk not in forbidden ground._

_A. Canonical version._

Saṁyutta v. 146-148.

Thus have I heard: Once upon a time the Exalted One was in residence

at Jetavana. At that time the Exalted One addressed the monks:

“Monks!” “Reverend Sir!” replied those monks to the Exalted One. The

Exalted One said this:

In olden times, monks, a hawk attacked a quail with violence and caught

it. Now, monks, as the hawk was carrying off the quail, the quail thus

lamented: “I am indeed unfortunate, I possess little merit,--I who

walked in forbidden ground, in a foreign region. If to-day I had walked

in my own ground, in the region of my fathers, this hawk would not have

been equal to a combat with me.”

“But, quail, what is your feeding-ground? What is the region of your

fathers?”

“A field of clods, turned up by the plow.”

The grateful elephant · 第 6 / 9 段