Now the duration of one koti is ten millions of years.
And the Buddha-elect, the Bodhisattva, was brought up in splendid luxury as a prince of the holy city, and while yet a boy mastered all branches of human knowledge, and becoming a man succeeded his father as keeper of the treasury. But even while exercising the duties of his office, he gave rich gifts to holy men, and allowed none to excel him in almsgiving.
At that time there also lived a holy Buddha, who, striving to fulfill each and all of the Ten Perfections had passed seven days and seven nights without eating so much as one grain of rice. Arousing himself at last from his holy trance, he cleansed and robed his person, and purified himself, and passing through the air by virtue of his perfection, alighted before the door of the treasurer's house, with his begging-bowl in his hand.
Then the Bodhisattva, beholding the sacred mendicant awaiting in silence, bade a servant fetch to him the Buddha's bowl, that he might fill it with such food as those who seek supreme wisdom may permit themselves to eat. So the servant proceeded to fetch the bowl.
But even as he advanced, and before he might reach out his hand, the ground rocked and heaved like the sea beneath him; and the earth opened itself, and yawned to its entrails, making an abyss between the holy mendicant and the servant of the Bodhisattva. And the gulf became a hell of seething flame, like the hell of Avici, like the heart of a volcano in which even the crags of granite melt as wax, pass away as clouds. Also a great and fantastic darkness grew before the sun, and blackened all his face.
Wherefore the servant and his fellows fled shrieking, leaving only the Bodhisattva standing upon one verge of the abyss, and the Buddha, calmly waiting, upon the other. Where the feet of the perfect mendicant stood, the abyss widened not; but it widened swiftly, devouring the ground before the feet of the Bodhisattva, as though seeking to engulf him. For Mara, Lord of Rakshasas and of evil ones, desiring that the Buddha might die, sought thus to prevent the almsgiving of the Bodhisattva. And the darkness before the sun was the darkness of Mara's awful face.
And as a muttering of mountain thunder came a voice, saying: "The Buddha shall not live by thine alms-gift; his hour hath come.... Mine is the fire between thee and him."
And the Bodhisattva looked at the Buddha across the abyss of fire; and the Buddha's face changed not, neither did he utter a word to dissuade nor give one sign to encourage.
But the Bodhisattva cried aloud, even while the abyss, widening, grew vaster to devour him: "Mara, thou shalt not prevail! To thee power is not given against duty!... My lord Buddha, I come to thee, fearing not; take thou this food from the hands of thy servant."
And with the dish of rice in his hands, the Bodhisattva strode into the roaring waste of fire, uttering these jewel-words: "Better to enter willingly into hell than neglect a duty or knowingly commit a wrong!"...