菩薩本生鬘論

Origin Story 7:

THE LOVING-KINDNESS OF THE DRAGON KING RECONCILES THE ENMITY OF SLAUGHTER

In a former time, because of the causes and conditions of hatred, the Bodhisattva fell into the species of dragons possessing three kinds of poison: first, poisonous breath; second, poisonous eyes; and third, poisonous scales. Yet through the wondrous power of the merit and reward of a particular karma, his body was like a mass of the seven jewels, complete with every color, needing neither the light of sun nor moon, for of itself his body ever shone with radiance.

He was always surrounded by an immeasurable hundred thousand dragon kinsfolk encircling him, and he could transform himself into a human form of handsome and noble appearance. The river dragon dwelt in a place deep, secluded, and tranquil, deep within Mount Vaiḍūrya, where there were many dense forests, flowers and fruits in lush abundance, and ponds and lakes of crystal-clear water—a leisurely and tranquil scene truly to be loved.

The Dragon King would often sport joyfully with the dragon maidens, singing and dancing, dwelling in such a place, and thus passed immeasurable hundreds of thousands of myriads of years.

Suddenly one day, a great golden-winged Garuda king appeared, circling and wheeling about in the empty sky, and then swooped down, wishing to seize the dragons to use as food. As the Garuda bird came flying, the gust of wind unleashed from its two wings toppled mountains and shattered rocks, causing rivers, streams, and brooks all to dry up. When the dragons and dragon maidens saw such a thing, they were filled with fear, their whole bodies trembling so that all the necklaces and ornaments adorning them fell to the ground, and together they lamented:

"This day we have met this great enemy. Its beak is hard as diamond, and whatever thing it pecks, that thing is utterly shattered! Now it is about to come and devour us. How can we withstand it?"

At that time, when the Dragon King heard this, he was greatly troubled and distressed. Yet because in former lives the Dragon King had planted roots of goodness, and because he knew how to reflect, his mind was without fear, and he thought: "Although this golden-winged Garuda possesses great and awesome power, my single body alone is enough to oppose it." Then he said to the dragons:

"You need only take shelter behind me, and you shall surely come to no harm. If I cannot protect my friends and kinsfolk, then of what use is this great body of mine?"

Thereupon the Dragon King went to where the golden-winged Garuda was, and with a mind untouched by fear said to the Garuda:

"Please be calm for a moment so that we may discuss this matter together. You constantly give rise to enmity and slaughter toward my body, yet I have no such thought at all toward you, virtuous one. Because of the evil karma drawn from former lives, I have come to have this great body, and though I am complete with the three poisons of breath, eyes, and scales, I have never used these three poisons to harm another. In terms of strength, I could contend with you as an enemy, or I could flee far away so that you could not even see me. The reason I do not now depart is that there are many dragons who depend upon me. Therefore I do not wish to do battle with you. For this reason, I have never given rise to a mind of enmity toward you."

The golden-winged Garuda said:

"Do you truly have no mind of enmity toward me?"

The Dragon King replied:

"Although I bear the body of an animal, I clearly understand the law of cause, effect, and karmic retribution—that even from a small evil cause one receives a very heavy fruit of retribution, like shadow and form that are never parted from each other. Both you and I have fallen into the evil destinies, both because in former lives we created the causes of transgression. You must remember and reflect upon the teaching that the Tathāgata has taught: 'One cannot dissolve enmity with a mind of enmity; only by giving rise to a mind of loving-kindness, compassion, and forbearance can enmity be destroyed. It is like a heap of fire: add dry firewood to it, and the fire blazes ever more fiercely and never ceases. To answer hatred with hatred—the principle is just like this.'"

When the golden-winged Garuda heard these words, its mind of enmity was at once cut off and a wholesome mind arose, and turning toward the Dragon King it said:

"Now you have been able, through the wondrous power of loving-kindness and forbearance, to cut off my anger, as though drawing water from a stream to pour upon a heap of fire, causing my mind at once to become pure, clear, and cool."

The Dragon King said again:

"In a time long past, immeasurable kalpas ago, you and I together received and studied the precepts in the presence of the Buddha. Because our minds were not pure, and because we did not persevere but loved to seek fame and gave rise to jealousy, hating one another—on account of these causes and conditions we fell into the evil realms. I have constantly confessed and repented, and so I still remember it now; but you, because you concealed it, have now forgotten it. You must now reflect upon and recall your original right mindfulness, give rise to a mind of loving-kindness and forbearance, and cultivate the pure holy life."

The golden-winged Garuda said again:

"From this day forth I vow to bestow upon all the species of dragons the joy of peace and security, free from fear."

Having spoken thus, it at once departed the dragon palace and returned to its own dwelling.

The Dragon King consoled the dragon kinsfolk with words, and again asked the dragons:

"Did you see whether the golden-winged Garuda was afraid?"

The dragons all replied:

"Exceedingly afraid."

The Dragon King said:

"The sentient beings of the world, if they see you, are terrified in just the same way. O dragons, you cherish your own bodies and lives, and the sentient beings of the world likewise cherish their bodies and lives—they are all alike, without difference. You must examine your own heart and from it infer the hearts of others. Therefore you must give rise to the mind of great loving-kindness and compassion. Because I, through the causes and conditions of cultivating loving-kindness and compassion, have caused that enemy to return to his own dwelling.

"The refuge for all the species of sentient beings revolving in birth and death cannot go beyond the mind of loving-kindness. The mind of great loving-kindness is like a fine medicine that heals the grave illness of the afflictions of sentient beings. The mind of great loving-kindness is like a bright lamp that shines forth to dispel the darkness of the three poisons of sentient beings. The mind of great loving-kindness is like a boat that ferries sentient beings across the sea of suffering in the three realms. The mind of great loving-kindness is like a companion on the journey, helping one to escape the perilous road of the evil destinies of birth and death. The mind of great loving-kindness is like a maṇi jewel, fulfilling the reasonable wishes of sentient beings.

"Because from a time long past I lost the mind of loving-kindness, I fell into this species of dragons and have not gained liberation. If any sentient being can establish the gate of loving-kindness and compassion, then he can give rise to immeasurable wholesome dharmas, block out all the darkness of delusion, so that the external conditions of the afflictions cannot enter, and he will ever be reborn among humans or in the heavenly realms, liberated and at peace."

When the dragon kinsfolk had heard these words, they all abandoned hatred and gave rise to the mind of loving-kindness. When the Dragon King saw that his own kind had heard and accepted his teaching and transformation, he rejoiced and said:

"Excellent! What I have done this day is now accomplished, for I have caused you to remove immeasurable poison and evil, and have spread all wholesome and pure dharmas throughout this place. Furthermore, for your sake, I shall expound the pure dharma of the Eight Precepts of the Uposatha that must be upheld and observed.

"The sentient beings of Jambudvīpa use the water of these eight precepts to wash clean body and mind so that they become pure, severing the immeasurable defilements of greed, hatred, and delusion. These eight precepts are the provisions for the journey upon the road leading to the realms of gods and humans. If anyone can keep these eight precepts of the Uposatha, you must know that, though that person does not wear splendid garments, he is yet fully clothed in the garment of shame and conscience.

You must know that, though that person has no city wall, he is yet able to ward off the enemy bandits of the six sense faculties. You must know that, though that person is not of noble lineage, he yet dwells within the clan of the sages and saints. You must know that, though that person has no string of precious necklaces, he is yet fully adorned in body with wholesome dharmas.

You must know that, though that person possesses no treasures, he has yet accumulated in full the seven kinds of dharma-wealth of the realms of gods and humans. You must know that, though that person relies upon no bridge, he has yet crossed the perilous road. Such is the merit of receiving and upholding the eight precepts."

At that time, the dragons together addressed the Dragon King:

"Today we wish to hear the eight precepts so that we may diligently cultivate them..."

The Dragon King said:

"As for these eight precepts: first, one must not take life; second, one must not steal or rob; third, one must not engage in sexual misconduct; fourth, one must not speak falsehood; fifth, one must not drink intoxicants; sixth, one must not eat after midday; seventh, one must not lie on high and broad beds; eighth, one must not adorn oneself with powder and rouge, nor sing and dance to worldly music. These are the eight precepts of the pure Uposatha. Essential is that one must keep far from clamorous places, dwell in quiet solitude, and with mind and intent wholly concentrated, observe them in accordance with the truth."

The dragons together said:

"As for us, when we are apart from the great king for even a short time, our minds are not at peace; but relying upon the awesome spiritual power of the great king, we are without affliction, and at all times we are ever at peace."

They asked further:

"The merit and wondrous power of the Buddha-Dharma—where may it not be attained? Why must one seek out a place of quiet solitude?"

The Dragon King said to the dragons:

"When one does not see objects of desire, then thoughts do not arise, for habitual tendencies arise dependent upon objects, just as moist earth easily becomes mud. If one dwells in quiet solitude, then the defiled mind is not stirred."

At that time, the Dragon King brought his friends and kinsfolk to dwell in a deep, secluded, and spacious forest within the mountains. Keeping far from the mind of greed, desire, and hatred, ever taking loving-kindness, compassion, and forbearance to cultivate himself, and observing the precepts of abstinence, he passed many days restricting his food and drink, so that his body grew thin and gaunt and gave rise to weariness.

One day a band of evil men came to where the dragons dwelt. When the Dragon King heard the sound of men, he at once awoke. When this band of evil men saw the Dragon King's body in such a form, they were greatly astonished and said to one another: "What precious mass is this, rising up from beneath the earth?"

The Dragon King thought to himself: "If I let these men see my true form, they would at once be frightened to death, and so I would break the precept against killing that I am now cultivating and upholding. These evil men have come here today; surely they covet the dwelling place of my body, and they will kill me."

The evil men discussed together once more:

"We have passed many years within these mountains, yet have never seen a form like this, with colors intermingled, the radiance dazzling to the eyes. If we could obtain the outer layer of its skin and present it to the king, then surely we would receive a great reward—nothing could bring greater joy." Thereupon the whole band took up sharp knives and cut into the Dragon King's body, intending to strip off the layer of skin.

At that time, through the power of the Dragon King's mind of loving-kindness, compassion, and forbearance, he held not the slightest enmity, and likewise lost all sense of pain. Toward this band of men the Dragon King gave rise only to a mind of acceptance, and so the three poisons were all extinguished. He consoled his own mind, thinking that he ought not to begrudge: "Even should an enemy come to kill me, I will not depart.

How much less now, when these men have seen my body and given rise to a mind of greed for the king's reward and so kill me—I would rather suffer death than harm them in return, and I will not cause these men to suffer in their present bodies." At that time the evil men, as though all the more excited, with strength all the greater, took up their sharp knives, cut off the sheet of skin, and carried it away.

Afterward the Dragon King reflected to himself: "Suppose there were an innocent person whose body was dismembered by another, and he forbore and endured it, giving rise to no mind of revenge and stirring up no mind of enmity—then you must know that this person is a great being. If one is able to silently accept such treatment from father, mother, brothers, wife, and children, this case is not yet worthy of esteem. But when toward an enemy who is killing oneself, one's mind gives rise to no thought of revenge but only silently endures—this case is then very difficult.

Yet I now, cultivating the practice of benefiting others, silently endure. I reflect that from the countless kalpas of birth and death up until now, I have how many times cast away body and life in vain, and have never once given alms in a special way to a single person. I vow that in a future life I shall bestow upon this band of men immeasurable dharma-wealth, so that my vow may be fulfilled."

At that time the Dragon King, having been stripped of his skin, was covered all over with gushing blood and was in unbearable pain, unable to restrain himself, so that his whole body trembled; and moreover countless kinds of worms and insects, smelling the scent of blood, came at once to bore in and gnaw. The Dragon King said again:

"These kinds of worms and insects this day devour my flesh; I vow that in a future life I shall bestow the food of the Dharma upon them."

At that time, when the dragon kinsfolk saw the Dragon King's body undergoing such suffering, they were all grieved and anguished. The Dragon King made a vow:

"If in a future age I shall become a Buddha, then let my body at once be restored as before."

When he had made the vow, his body naturally returned to its former state. The dragon kinsfolk all rejoiced exceedingly.

This is what the Bodhisattva did while in the evil destinies: using the wondrous power of loving-kindness, compassion, and forbearance, persevering in pure precepts, he endured such suffering.

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Origin Story 8:

KING LOVING-POWER DRAWS BLOOD FROM HIS OWN BODY TO GIVE ALMS TO FIVE YAKṢA DEMONS

At that time, the World-Honored One was spending the summer rains retreat at the Jeta Grove monastery in the country of Śrāvastī. After the midday meal, the Venerable Ānanda put away the Buddha's bowl, and then together with the bhikṣus entered the forest to practice walking meditation. When this was done, they once more sat down in order according to their rank, and discussed together:

"This day the Buddha, the World-Honored One, has appeared in the world—this is something most extraordinary, the rarest of the rare, who has created much benefit for sentient beings. Now, the five great bhikṣus such as Kauṇḍinya and the others, who are the foremost—after the Buddha had become the Perfectly Enlightened One, these venerable ones were the first to meet the Buddha. What roots of goodness, then, had they originally planted?

What causes and conditions were there, that when the Buddha turned the Wheel of the Dharma in the Deer Park they immediately attained realization, so that when the drum of the Dharma was first beaten, these venerable ones had heard it before, and the Earth Spirit sprang up from beneath the earth to announce the news to the spirits of empty space, and even all the devas bore witness and said: 'Kauṇḍinya has clearly understood the Buddha-Dharma'?"

Having discussed thus, they at once rose from their seats and returned to the monastery, and laid all the foregoing before the Buddha.

At that time the Tathāgata said to the Venerable Ānanda:

"What he asked is not without causes and conditions. From a time long past the Tathāgata had compassion upon those venerable ones, and once drew blood from his own body to help them dispel hunger and thirst, saving their lives and bringing them peace and ease. Because of these causes and conditions, in this present life they followed Me to hear the Dharma first and were the first to attain awakening."

The Venerable Ānanda again addressed the Buddha:

"May the World-Honored One reveal this matter to those who have not yet heard it, so that all the assembly may be put at ease in mind."

The Buddha said to the Venerable Ānanda:

"In a time long past, immeasurable asaṃkhyeya kalpas ago, here in Jambudvīpa there was a king named Loving-Power, a man complete in merit, virtue, and wisdom, whose fame spread everywhere, whose features were upright and dignified, whose awesome majesty none could match. He had twenty thousand ministers to assist in governing the realm, presided over eighty-four thousand small countries, and had queens, consorts, and kinsfolk numbering as many as ten thousand.

King Loving-Power had met the Buddhas of former times, had originally cultivated the roots of goodness, and delighted in cultivating the practices of loving-kindness, compassion, benevolence, magnanimity, and gentle harmony. Toward sentient beings the king always brought every kind of peace and ease, and moreover gave rise to a compassionate mind to aid the poor and destitute; whenever there was any sentient being in suffering, all were saved and delivered by the king.

The king further gave rise to a mind of sympathetic joy, revering the sages and saints, and constantly used kindly words so that all who heard them became glad. He further gave rise to a mind of equanimity, giving rise to neither love nor hate, and toward wealth or even his own life he was never miserly, regarding sentient beings with an impartial mind as though they were his own children. The king practiced these four impartial dharmas, and through many kalpas had never been indolent, lax, or backsliding.

"The king further used the ten wholesome deeds to teach and transform his ministers and the common people, and each and all of them likewise obeyed his command and maintained purity, so that the country was peaceful and secure, and he wished the people to enjoy a time of great peace.

"As for the demons that cause illness and the yakṣa demons that constantly feed and drink upon blood, bringing affliction to the people—now that everyone cultivated the ten wholesome deeds, and the three actions of body, speech, and mind were pure, all calamities were dispelled, and the devas and benevolent spirits constantly guarded and supported them; so that even if heterodox sprites, evil demons, and fierce spirits harbored intentions to do harm and wished to injure the people, they had no convenient opportunity. At that time, five yakṣa demons came to the royal palace and together declared:

"'We all depend upon the breath and blood of the people to nourish our bodies and lives. Because the king has instructed the people, all of whom now cultivate the ten wholesome deeds, our band has from then until now had no food or drink, and we are starving, thirsting, and wretched, truly with no means to survive. The loving-kindness and compassion of the great king is to save and aid all the sufferings of sentient beings, yet to us alone he bestows no grace or favor at all.'

"When the king heard these words he had the greatest pity for that band of yakṣas, and at once thought to himself: 'The band of yakṣas live only by drinking human blood. How can I satisfy what they desire? Only by sacrificing my own body can I save their lives.'

"Then the king pierced his body in five places, and blood gushed forth from them; the five yakṣa demons at once brought vessels to catch and drink it. The yakṣa demons, having had their fill, were greatly pleased. The great king said to them:

"'I have used the blood of my own body to save your lives. Now that you have had your fill, I demand nothing; I only hope that you will cultivate the ten wholesome deeds—that is the repayment of my kindness. I vow that in a future age, when I become a Buddha, in my first preaching of the Dharma I shall deliver you first, using the taste of sweet ambrosia to cleanse away the three poisons and to extinguish every kind of hunger and thirst that is craving and desire, so that you may become pure.'"

The Buddha said to Ānanda:

"King Loving-Power of that former time was no other person—it was none other than My own self. The five yakṣa demons of that time are now the five bhikṣus of Kauṇḍinya's group in this assembly. Through the wondrous power of My original vow in that former time, now that I have become a Buddha and turned the first Wheel of the Dharma in the Deer Park, the five bhikṣus of Kauṇḍinya's group were the first to awaken to the right Dharma, to sever utterly the very root of all sufferings, and to realize the fruit of Arhatship. From that time onward the Three Jewels—Buddha, Dharma, and Saṅgha—first appeared in their fullness in the world."

When the great assembly heard the words the Buddha taught, all rejoiced, paid homage to the Buddha, and withdrew.

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Origin Story 9:

REVEALING CLEARLY THE WONDROUS POWER OF A SMALL ACT OF GIVING

The Buddha was then dwelling at the Jeta Grove monastery, in the park of Anāthapiṇḍada and the grove of Prince Jeta, in the country of Śrāvastī, together with a full assembly of one thousand two hundred and fifty great bhikṣus. At that time, there was in the country a merchant chief who, together with five hundred merchant traders, wished to row a great ship out into the great sea to seek jewels and treasures. At that time, the merchant chief gave rise to a pure mind of faith, intending to set out a vegetarian feast as an offering to the Buddha and the assembly of monks in order to seek the blessing of their protection, and so he went to where the Buddha was and most sincerely made his invitation. The Tathāgata, knowing beforehand, silently consented.

In the morning, at his own home, the merchant chief offered up dishes all of the finest flavor, to show his sincere and reverent offering. When the Buddha had received the meal and spread out a seat to sit, he expounded the Dharma for the merchant chief, praising the merit of the practice of giving—how the response accords with one's wishes, how when the field of the mind is complete in excellence one sows a small cause yet attains a great fruit. When the merchant chief heard the Dharma, his mind was awakened; he paid homage to the Buddha, circumambulated him to the right, and then withdrew to stand to one side.

At that time, the World-Honored One, for the merchant chief's sake, expounded:

"In wishing to go out into the great sea, there are ever many dangers and great calamities; therefore you must first take refuge in and single-mindedly recollect the Three Jewels, and receive and uphold the five precepts as an upāsaka. Then what you seek will be fulfilled, and you will go forth and return to a place of peace and security."

When the merchant chief heard the Buddha expound the Dharma, he earnestly paid homage to the Buddha and begged to receive the five precepts.

The Buddha said:

"You must reflect well, listen attentively, and remember! The five precepts are:

1. One must not kill or harm living beings.

2. One must not steal.

3. One must not engage in sexual misconduct.

4. One must not speak falsehood.

5. One must not drink intoxicants.

"You must keep these five matters, and to the end of your life never violate them. To be thus is to be called an upāsaka."

Because this merchant chief had cultivated the roots of merit and virtue from before, he was intelligent, with bright and clear wisdom, knowing the good and ill of wind, waves, and weather; and so the traders invited him to be their guide, and he was esteemed by all and honored with the title of Sage. Everyone equipped themselves fully with fire, firewood, and provisions, chose an auspicious day, and gathered the merchant traders together to set out into the great sea.

Having set out and sailed for a few days, wind and waves arose. The spirit of the sea transformed itself into a yakṣa, hideous of form, fierce and savage, with dark black skin, sharp fangs jutting out beyond its mouth, and atop each fang a fire blazing forth. It sprang up from beneath the waves and seized the ship so that it could not move, and asked the traders:

"Among the people of the world, have any of you ever seen one more fearsome than me?"

At that time, the Sage saw the strange and monstrous form, but only single-mindedly recollected the Three Jewels; and through the protective power of the Buddha, he was without fear, and answered aloud:

"I have indeed seen one twice as utterly evil as you."

The spirit of the sea asked:

"Who is that?"

The Sage replied:

"In the world there are deluded ones who constantly do unwholesome things, committing the ten evil deeds, sunk and drowned in wrong views. After death they fall into the hells and undergo myriad kinds of suffering. The rākṣasa wardens of hell seize hold of these sinners and punish them in every kind of way: some they flay, some they slice the flesh, some they pound, some they grind, or they split the sinner's body into a hundred thousand parts; or they make them climb mountains of swords and forests of blades, or roast and broil them upon carts of blazing fire; or they place them upon freezing ice, or in places of excrement and urine... Suffering thus through a hundred thousand kalpas—that is what is more fearsome than you."

The spirit of the sea then silently hid its body and went away.

The ship slowly advanced onward for a few more days, when the spirit of the sea again manifested itself as a person extremely sick and frail, skin clinging to the bones, breath wheezing and labored, who clung to the side of the ship and asked the merchant chief:

"Have you ever seen anyone in the world sick, frail, and wasted as I am?"

The Sage replied:

"There is one withered, gaunt, and wasted far more than you."

The spirit of the sea asked:

"Who is that?"

The Sage replied:

"There are deluded ones, vicious and evil of nature, stingy, greedy, and jealous, who do not know how to give. After death they fall into the species of hungry ghosts—heads like Mount Tai, necks like needles, hair standing up disheveled and bristling, forms scorched black—who pass many long kalpas without ever hearing so much as the words 'food to eat' or 'water to drink.' Sick and frail as this, far more than you."

When the spirit of the sea heard this, it abandoned the ship and hid itself away.

The ship again slowly cleaved the waves and advanced. After a few more days, the spirit of the sea again manifested as a young man, still youthful in years, of features most upright and dignified, who sprang up from beneath the water and seized the ship, asking the merchant chief:

"Have you ever seen anyone younger and stronger than I am?"

The Sage replied:

"Compared with your features, there is one fresher and more beautiful than you a hundred thousand-fold."

The spirit asked:

"Who is that?"

The Sage replied:

"In the world there are wise ones who reverently uphold the ten wholesome deeds, whose three actions of body, speech, and mind are ever pure, who believe with all their hearts in the Three Jewels and make offerings according to the season. When such a one's life ends, he is reborn in the heavenly realms, of a form so beautiful that none in the world can compare with it. To set your form beside that one would be like setting a blind female monkey beside a celestial maiden."

When the spirit of the sea heard this, it felt ashamed, fell silent, and thought to itself: "Now this merchant chief is broad in knowledge and learning, understanding all matters, and skillfully expounds the law of cause and effect and retribution most clearly. Now let me put to him one matter very close at hand and test him." The spirit of the sea then scooped up a handful of water with its right hand and asked the merchant chief:

"Is the water in my hand more, or is the water of the great sea more?"

The Sage replied:

"The water in your hand is more; the water of the great sea is less."

The spirit of the sea pressed him:

"The matter is plain before our very eyes; your words today are truly hard to believe."

The Sage replied:

"These words are true and certainly without error; it is something that the understanding of the world cannot comprehend."

The spirit of the sea asked:

"By what do you prove it?"

The Sage replied:

"Though the water of the sea is much, there will yet come a day when it must dry up. When the world reaches the time of its destruction, the Three-Thousandfold Great-Thousandfold realm all perishes; Mount Sumeru and the great sea all break apart and are destroyed, not a single thing remaining. Hence one knows that the water of the sea must dry up.

But if there be one who takes a single handful of water to offer to the Buddhas, or to give as alms to sentient beings, or to support father and mother, or to give to a beggar, or even to the birds and beasts—then, through the wondrous power of this wholesome deed, small though it be, he will, through kalpas as numberless as motes of dust, enjoy blessings without end. From this I know: the water of the sea is less, while the handful of water in the hand is more."

At that time, the spirit of the sea was greatly delighted in mind, and at once presented to the Sage all kinds of precious jade, pearls, and treasures, and also sent precious jade and treasures to be offered to the Buddha and the Saṅgha.

Thereupon all the traders returned to dry land, and together came to where the Buddha was. They bowed in homage, presented the precious things sent by the spirit of the sea as an offering to the Buddha, and also set out before the Buddha the pearls and jade that had been given to themselves; then, kneeling prostrate with palms joined, they addressed him:

"World-Honored One, we have been fortunate, for thanks to the loving-kindness and compassion of the Tathāgata protecting us from afar, when we entered the sea we escaped calamity, obtained treasures, and have returned to our native land—all of this we owe to the grace of the Buddha. Today we vow to become disciples gone forth into the homeless life."

The Buddha said, "Welcome!" and those traders at once took on the full marks of bhikṣus, all of them severing every kind of fetter and realizing Arhatship.