by Andy Rotman
Siṃhala said farewell to his mother and father, his servants, his friends, relations, and relatives, and at an opportune day, date, and time he performed auspicious rituals and benedictions for a safe journey. Then he loaded827 many goods for export across the ocean in carts, carriers, baskets, and containers, and on camels, bulls, and donkeys, and with his attendants and the five hundred merchants, he set out. After passing through marketplaces, hamlets, villages, districts, and capitals, one after another, and seeing various trading centers, he arrived at the seashore.
Here the full Demon Sūtra(Rākṣasī-sūtra) is to be told in its entirety.828
. . . All the merchants fell from Bālāha, the king of horses, and were eaten by the demons. Only Siṃhala managed to return to Jambudvīpa (Black Plum Island) safe and sound.
Siṃhala’s wife, who was also a demon, was addressed by the other demons: “Sister, each of us has eaten her own husband, yet you let your husband escape. It would be best if you brought him to us. If not, we’ll eat you.”
Frightened, she said, “If you insist,829 bear with me and I’ll bring him to you.
“Very well then,” they said. “Do as you say.”
The demon who was Siṃhala’s wife magically transformed herself so that she had a terrifying appearance and then traveled at great speed and appeared before the caravan leader Siṃhala. The caravan leader Siṃhala [525] unsheathed his sword, and she became frightened and ran away.
Meanwhile a caravan arrived from the Middle Country. That demon [took on human form,] fell prostrate at the caravan leader’s feet, and [telling a lie] said, “Caravan leader, I am the daughter of the king of Tāmradvīpa (Copper Island). He gave me to the caravan leader Siṃhala as a wife. While he was sailing across the great ocean, his ship was destroyed by a kind of fish—a makara monster. As a result he decided that I was inauspicious, and he abandoned me. Please make him take me back as his wife.”
“I’ll make him forgive you and take you back.”
The caravan leader approached Siṃhala. After standing there for a while making small talk, he then said, “Friend, you married this princess. Don’t abandon her unjustly. Forgive her!”
“Friend, she isn’t a princess,” he said. “She is a demon from Tāmradvīpa.”
“Then how did she get here?”
Siṃhala explained what had happened.
The caravan leader remained silent.
In due course the caravan leader Siṃhala arrived back home.
The demon assumed the form of a very lovely woman, young and exceedingly beautiful, and magically created a son with a handsome appearance who looked just like Siṃhala. She then took this son and arrived at the capital Siṃhakalpā. Once there she waited by the door to the caravan leader Siṃhala’s home. A crowd of people recognized the boy by his face and whom it resembled.
“Friends,” they said, “it’s clear—this boy must the son of the caravan leader Siṃhala.”
“Gentlemen, you’ve recognized him!” the demon said. “Indeed this is his son.”
“Sister, where have you come from?” they asked. “And whose daughter are you?”
“Gentlemen, I am the daughter of the king of Tāmradvīpa,” she said. “I was given to the caravan leader Siṃhala as a wife. While the caravan leader was sailing across the great ocean, his ship was destroyed by a fish of some kind. As a result he decided that I was inauspicious, and he abandoned me unjustly. Somehow I managed to make it here. I also have a small child.830 Please make the caravan leader Siṃhala forgive me!”
The people informed Siṃhala’s mother and father, who said to him, “Son, don’t [abandon]831 this princess. She is helpless and has a small child.832 Forgive her.”
“Father, she isn’t a princess,” he said. “She is a demon who has come here from Tāmradvīpa.”
“Son,” his parents said, “all women are demons! Forgive her.”
“Father, if you and Mother approve of her, then you can take care of her at home. [526] I’ll go elsewhere.”
“Son,” they said, “we’d take very good care of her but only for your sake. If you don’t approve of her, what do we want with her? We won’t take care of her.” So Siṃhala’s parents sent her away.
She then went to King Siṃhakeśarin, whose ministers informed him, “My lord, a very beautiful young woman stands at the palace gate.”
“Send her in,” said the king. “I’ll see her.”
The ministers sent her in, and she captivated everyone’s senses. When the king saw her, he was overcome with passion. After addressing her courteously with words of welcome, he said, “Where did you come from? How did you get here? And to whom do you belong?”
She fell prostrate at the king’s feet and said, “My lord, I am the daughter of the king of Tāmradvīpa. I was given to the caravan leader Siṃhala as a wife. While he was sailing across the great ocean, his ship was destroyed by a fish of some kind—a makara monster. Hearing833 that I was inauspicious, he abandoned me unjustly. Somehow I managed to make it here. I also have a small child.834 My lord, please make the caravan leader Siṃhala forgive me!”
The king consoled her and then ordered his ministers: “Gentlemen, go and summon the caravan leader Siṃhala.” They summoned him.
“Siṃhala,” the king said, “take care of this princess. Forgive her.”
“My lord, she isn’t a princess,” he said. “She is a demon who has come here from Tāmradvīpa.”
“Caravan leader, all women are demons!” the king said. “Forgive her. Or, if you don’t approve of her, give her to me.”
“My lord, she is a demon!” the caravan leader said. “I won’t give her to you nor will I choose her as a wife.” The king nevertheless invited her into the royal women’s quarters. He had fallen under her spell.
One day she gave a sleeping potion835 to the king and the palace women. Then she went back to the demons of Tāmradvīpa and said, “Sisters, what use to you is the caravan leader Siṃhala? I’ve given a sleeping potion to King Siṃhakeśarin and the palace women. Come! Let’s eat them.”
The demons assumed their true and absolutely terrifying forms, with deformed hands, feet, and noses, and then at night came to Siṃhakalpā. There they ate the king and all the palace women and attendants.
When dawn broke, the palace gates didn’t open. Carrion-eating birds began to circle over the palace. Ministers, soldiers, townspeople, and villagers stood at the palace gates. [527] Word spread all around the capital Siṃhakalpā: “The palace gates haven’t opened! Carrion-eating birds are circling over the palace! Ministers, soldiers, townsmen, and villagers are standing at the palace gates!”
When the caravan leader Siṃhala heard this, he quickly took his sword and went to the palace.
“Friends, brace yourselves,”836 he said. “That demon has eaten the king.”
“What do we do now?” the ministers asked.
“Bring a ladder,” he said. “I’ll take a look.”
They brought a ladder, and the caravan leader Siṃhala took his sword and climbed up. The demons were frightened of him and fled, some taking with them [human]837 hands and feet, others taking heads. Then the caravan leader Siṃhala opened the gates to the palace, and the ministers had the palace cleaned up.
Townspeople, ministers, and villagers gathered together and said, “Friends, the king, along with the palace women and royal attendants, has been eaten by demons. The king has no son. So who should we consecrate as the new king?”
“One who is virtuous and wise,” some said.
“Who besides the caravan leader Siṃhala is virtuous and wise?” others said. “Let’s consecrate the caravan leader Siṃhala as king.”
“Yes! Let’s do so.”
So they said to the caravan leader Siṃhala, “Caravan leader, please accept the throne and be our king.”
“I make my living working as a merchant,” he said. “What’s the use of me being king?”
“Caravan leader,” they sai
d, “no one else can govern the kingdom. Please accept.”
“I’ll accept on one condition—you must follow my orders.”
“Please accept. We’ll follow your orders. Good luck to you!”838 The people then beautified the city, and with great honor consecrated the caravan leader Siṃhala as king.
Siṃhala invited839 teachers of various sciences from other countries, and from them he learned a great deal, studying archery from master archers and the like.
“Gentlemen,” he ordered his ministers, “prepare the four branches of the military! Let’s go! Let’s drive the demons out of Tāmradvīpa!”
The ministers readied the four branches of the military. King Siṃhala loaded onto boats the very best elephants, horses, chariots, and men from the four branches of the military and then set out for Tāmradvīpa. In due course they arrived at the shores of Tāmradvīpa. [528]
The flag that signals disaster840 for the demons began to flutter. The demons began to talk among themselves: “Friends, the flag that signals disaster841 is fluttering. The people of Jambudvīpa must have come, eager for battle. Let’s find out.”
The demons went to the seashore and saw that many hundreds of ships had reached the shore.842 Seeing this, they attacked with half their forces. Soon they were overpowered by the expert opposition and were slaughtered by the master archers. The surviving demons fell prostrate at King Siṃhala’s feet and said, “My lord, forgive us!”
“I will forgive you,” he said, “on one condition—you must relinquish control of the city,843 go someplace else, and never commit an offense against anyone in my dominion.”
“My lord,” they said, “we’ll do as you say.”
“Good.”
The demons relinquished control of the city and went elsewhere to live. Since King Siṃhala settled the area, it came to be known as Siṃhaladvīpa (Siṃhala’s Island).844
“What do you think, monks? Siṃhala was none other than me at that time and at that juncture. King Siṃhakeśarin was none other than the old monk at that time and at that juncture. And the demon was none other than Anupamā at that time and at that juncture. Even then, the old man, because of his improper conduct toward Anupamā, met with his death. And now too, because of his improper conduct toward Anupamā, the old man has met with his death once again.”
Jealous Anupamā and Faithful Śyāmāvatī
The mendicant Mākandika took Anupamā and went to Kauśāmbī, where he settled in a certain park. The man guarding the park informed King Udayana, king of the Vatsas, “Your majesty, a woman that is beautiful, good-looking, and attractive is staying in the park. She is suitable for my lord.”
Hearing this, the king went to the park, and when he saw her, his senses were captivated. From the very moment he saw her, his heart was lost to her.
“To whom does this girl belong?” he asked the mendicant Mākandika.
“My lord,” he said, “she is my daughter. My lord, she is no one else’s.”845
“Why not give her to me?”
“My lord, let her be given to the king.”
“Excellent!” [529]
The great king had many wives.846 Mākandika’s daughter became another and moved into the Puṣpadanta Palace.847 She was given an amount equal to the Puṣpadanta Palace848 as well as five hundred attendants and a daily allowance of five hundred kārṣāpaṇa coins for fragrances and garlands. The mendicant Mākandika was appointed a chief minister. At that time King Udayana had three chief ministers: Yogāndharāyaṇa, Ghoṣila, and Mākandika.
One time a man approached King Udayana.
“Who are you?” the king asked.
“My lord, I am a bearer of good news,” he said.
“Gentlemen,” the king ordered his ministers, “offer a job to this bearer of good news.” So the ministers gave him a job.
Later another man approached.
“Who are you?” the king asked him.
“My lord, I am a bearer of bad news,” he said.
“Gentlemen,” the king ordered his ministers, “offer a job to this bearer of bad news as well.”
“My lord should never listen to bad news,” they said.
“Gentlemen,” the king said, “the duties of a king are vast. Offer him the job.” So the ministers gave him a job as well.
One time King Udayana, Anupamā, and Śyāmāvatī (Dusky) [one of the king’s other wives] were together in the same place. Then the king sneezed.
“Praise to the Buddha!” Śyāmāvatī said.
“Praise to my lord!” Anupamā said. And then she added, “Your majesty, Śyāmāvatī eats food that belongs to my lord, yet she praises the ascetic Gautama.”
“Anupamā, don’t take it that way,”849 he said. “Śyāmāvatī is a lay disciple of the Buddha. Of course she offers praise to the ascetic Gautama.”
Anupamā remained silent.
Then she said to her maidservant, “Girl, when my lord, Śyāmāvatī, and I are in private, throw a brass bowl down the stairs.”
“As you wish.”
And so, when the three of them were in private, the maidservant threw a brass bowl down the stairs.
“Praise to the Buddha!” Śyāmāvatī said.
“Praise to my lord!” Anupamā said. Then she added, “Śyāmāvatī eats food that belongs to my lord, yet she praises the ascetic Gautama.”
“Anupamā,” the king said, “don’t make a fuss about this. She is a lay disciple of the Buddha. No offense has been committed here.”
Now King Udayana would eat with850 Śyāmāvatī one day and with Anupamā the next day. Anupamā851 ordered the royal bird-catcher: “On those days when it is Śyāmāvatī’s turn to eat with the king, [530] bring him live partridges.” And so the bird-catcher brought the king live partridges.
“Deliver them to Anupamā,” the king said.
Anupamā heard this and said, “My lord, it’s not my turn. It’s Śyāmāvatī’s turn.”
“Friend,” the king said, “go and deliver these to Śyāmāvatī.”
The bird-catcher brought them to Śyāmāvatī. “Prepare these for my lord.”
“What am I, a butcher of birds?” she asked. “It isn’t permissible for me to kill living beings. Go away!”
The bird-catcher went and informed the king, “My lord, Śyāmāvatī said, ‘What am I, a butcher of birds? It isn’t permissible for me to kill living beings. Go away!’”
Anupamā heard this and said, “My lord, if she were told to prepare them for the ascetic Gautama, she and her attendants would prepare them immediately.”
“Perhaps this is so,” the king reflected. He spoke to the bird-catcher: “Friend, go and say this to Śyāmāvatī: ‘Prepare them for the Blessed One.’”
The bird-catcher set out, and then in secret Anupamā said to him, “First kill the birds and then bring them to her.” So the bird-catcher killed the birds and then brought them to Śyāmāvatī. He told her, “My lord said to prepare these for the Blessed One.” So Śyāmāvatī and her attendants began to prepare them. The bird-catcher went and informed the king, “My lord, Śyāmāvatī and her attendants are preparing the birds.”
Anupama said, “Did my lord hear that? If it isn’t permissible for her to kill living beings, then it isn’t permissible for her to do so on behalf of the ascetic Gautama, nor is it permissible for her to do so on behalf of my lord. But if it is permissible for her to do so on behalf of the ascetic Gautama, how is it that she thinks that it isn’t permissible on behalf of my lord?”852
The king was enraged. He drew his bow and set out.
The world is made up of friends, enemies, and those in between.
One of Śyāmāvatī’s attendants informed her, “My lord is absolutely furious. He has drawn his bow and is coming here! Beg him for forgiveness!”
Śyāmāvatī addressed her retinue:853 “Sisters, you must all enter into a state of loving-kindness.” So they all entered into a state of loving-kindness.
Then the king arrived,
drew his bowstring to his ear, and shot an arrow. In midflight it fell to the ground. He shot a second arrow. It reversed direction and fell near the king. As he prepared to shoot a third arrow, Śyāmāvatī said, “My lord, don’t shoot. Don’t think that with all your power you can do everything.”854
Becoming subdued, the king said, “Are you a goddess, a nāga, a yakṣa?855 Or are you a celestial musician, a kinnara woman, or a great snake?
“No,” she said.
“Then what are you?”
“A disciple of the Blessed One; a nonreturner. I have directly experienced the reward of the nonreturner in the presence of the Blessed One. And these five hundred women have seen the [four noble] truths.”
The king was filled with faith and said, “I grant you a wish.” [531]
“If my lord has faith,” she said, “then when his majesty enters the women’s quarters, may he hold himself in accordance with the dharma in my presence.”856
“Very well,” the king said. “It will be done.”
The king [would take pleasure fooling around, enjoying himself, and making love] with Anupamā,857 and in Śyāmāvatī’s presence, he would follow the dharma and cultivate faith.858 And when the king received fresh grains, fresh fruits, and the first pickings of a new harvest,859 he would offer them first to Śyāmāvatī.
Now women are naturally jealous. So Anupamā reflected, “The king enjoys making love with me, but he makes offerings to Śyāmāvatī of fresh grains, fresh fruits, and the first pickings of a new harvest. I must devise a plan to have her killed!” And so Anupamā became obsessed with finding some way that Śyāmāvatī was vulnerable so that she could have her killed.
Now the king had a certain village chief [in his kingdom] who started a rebellion against him, so he sent in a division of the army. It returned beaten and defeated. So too did a second division and a third.
“My lord’s power grows weaker,” the king’s ministers said. “The village chief’s power increases. If my lord doesn’t lead the battle himself, it’s very likely that the village chief will become impossible to subdue.”
Then the king had bells rung in Kauśāmbī for the following proclamation: “Everyone who lives by the sword in my dominion must join me in battle.”
