Formerly, king Wän
of Kâo delighted in the sword-fight. More than three thousand
men, masters of the weapon, appeared as his guests, lining the
way on either side of his gate, and fighting together before him
day and night. Over a hundred of them would die or be (severely)
wounded in the course of a year, but he was never weary of
looking on (at their engagements), so fond was he of them. The
thing continued for three years, when the kingdom began to
decay, and other states to plan measures against it.
The crown-prince Khwei was distressed, and laid the case before
his attendants, saying, 'If any one can persuade the king, and
put an end to these swordsmen, I will give him a thousand ounces
of silver.' His attendants said, '(Only) Kwang-dze is able to do
this.' Thereupon the prince sent men with a thousand ounces of
silver to offer to Kwang-dze, who, however, would not accept
them, but went with the messengers. When he saw the prince, he
said, 'O prince, what have you to say to Kâu, and why would you
give me the silver?' The prince replied, 'I have heard that you,
master, are sagacious and sage. I sent you respectfully the
thousand ounces of silver, as a prelude to the silks and other
gifts'. But as you decline to receive them, how dare I now tell
you (what I wished from you)?' Kwang-dze rejoined, 'I have
heard, O prince, that what you wanted me for was to wean the
king from what is his delight. Suppose that in trying to
persuade his Majesty I should offend him, and not fulfil your
expectation, I shall be punished with death;--and could I then
enjoy this silver? Or suppose that I shall succeed in persuading
his Majesty, and accomplish what you desire, what is there in
the kingdom of Kâo that I might ask for which I would not get?'
The crown-prince said, 'Yes; but my (father), the king, will see
none but swordsmen.' Kwang-dze replied, 'I know; but I am expert
in the use of the sword.' 'That is well,' observed the prince;
'but the swordsmen whom his Majesty sees all have their hair in
a tangle, with whiskers projecting out. They wear slouching caps
with coarse and unornamented tassels, and their coats are cut
short behind. They have staring eyes, and talk about the hazards
of their game. The king is delighted with all this; but now you
are sure to present yourself to him in your scholar's dress, and
this will stand greatly in the way of your success.'
Kwang-dze said, 'I will then, with your leave, get me a
swordsman's dress.' This was ready in three days, and when he
appeared in it before the prince, the latter went with him to
introduce him to the king, who then drew his sword from its
scabbard and waited for him. When Kwang-dze entered the door of
the hall, he did not hurry forward, nor, when he saw the king,
did he bow. The king asked him, 'What do you want to teach me,
Sir, that you have got the prince to mention you beforehand?'
The reply was, 'I have heard that your Majesty is fond of the
sword-fight, and therefore I have sought an interview with you
on the ground of (my skill in the use of) the sword.' 'What can
you do with your sword against an opponent?' 'Let me meet with
an opponent every ten paces, my sword would deal with him, so
that I should not be stopped in a march of a thousand lî.' The
king was delighted with him, and said, 'You have not your match
in the kingdom.' Kwang-dze replied, 'A good swordsman first
makes a feint (against his opponent), then seems to give him an
advantage, and finally gives his thrust, reaching him before he
can return the blow. I should like to have an opportunity to
show you my skill.' The king said, 'Stop (for a little), Master.
Go to your lodging, and wait for my orders. I will make
arrangements for the play, and then call you.'
The king accordingly made trial of his swordsmen for seven days,
till more than sixty of them were killed, or (severely) wounded.
He then selected five or six men, and made them bring their
swords and take their places beneath the hall, after which he
called Kwang-dze, and said to him, 'To-day I am going to make
(you and) these men show what you can do with your swords.' 'I
have long been looking for the opportunity,' replied Kwang-dze.
The king then asked him what would be the length of the sword
which he would use; and he said, 'Any length will suit me, but I
have three swords, any one of which I will use, as may please
your Majesty. Let me first tell you of them, and then go to the
arena.' 'I should like to hear about the three swords,' said the
king; and Kwang-dze went on, 'There is the sword of the Son of
Heaven; the sword of a feudal prince; and the sword of a common
man.'
'What about the sword of the Son of Heaven?'
'This sword has Yen-khî and Shih-khang for its point; Khî and
(Mount) Tâi for its edge; Zin and Wei for its back; Kâu and Sung
for its hilt; Han and Wei for its sheath. It is embraced by the
wild tribes all around; it is wrapped up in the four seasons; it
is bound round by the Sea of Po; and its girdle is the enduring
hills. It is regulated by the five elements; its wielding is by
means of Punishments and Kindness; its unsheathing is like that
of the Yin and Yang; it is held fast in the spring and summer;
it is put in action in the autumn and winter. When it is thrust
forward, there is nothing in front of it; when lifted up, there
is nothing above it; when laid down, there is nothing below it;
when wheeled round, there is nothing left on any side of it;
above, it cleaves the floating clouds; and below, it penetrates
to every division of the earth. Let this sword be once used, and
the princes are all reformed, and the whole kingdom submits.
This is the sword of the Son of Heaven.'
King Wän looked lost in amazement, and said again, 'And what
about the sword of a feudal lord?' (Kwang-dze) replied, 'This
sword has wise and brave officers for its point; pure and
disinterested officers for its edge; able and honourable
officers for its back; loyal and sage officers for its hilt;
valiant and eminent officers for its sheath. When this sword is
thrust directly forward, as in the former case, there is nothing
in front of it; when directed upwards, there is nothing above
it; when laid down, there is nothing below it; when wheeled
round, there is nothing on any side of it. Above, its law is
taken from the round heaven, and is in accordance with the three
luminaries; below, its law is taken from the square earth, and
is in accordance with the four seasons; between, it is in
harmony with the minds of the people, and in all the parts of
the state there is peace. Let this sword be once used, and you
seem to hear the crash of the thunder-peal. Within the four
borders there are none who do not respectfully submit, and obey
the orders of the ruler. This is the sword of the feudal lord.'
'And what about the sword of the common man?' asked the king
(once more). (Kwang-dze) replied, 'The sword of the common man
(is wielded by) those who have their hair in a tangle, with
whiskers projecting out; who wear slouching caps with coarse and
unornamented tassels, and have their coats cut short behind; who
have staring eyes, and talk (only) about the hazards (of their
game). They hit at one another before you. Above, the sword
slashes through the neck; and below, it scoops out the liver and
lungs. This is the sword of the common man. (The users of it)
are not different from fighting cocks; any morning their lives
are brought to an end; they are of no use in the affairs of the
state. Your Majesty occupies the seat of the Son of Heaven, and
that you should be so fond of the swordsmanship of such common
men, is unworthy, as I venture to think, of your Majesty.'
On this the king drew Kwang-dze with him, and went up to the top
of the hall, where the cook set forth a meal, which the king
walked round three times (unable to sit down to it). Kwang-dze
said to him, 'Sit down quietly, Great King, and calm yourself. I
have said all I wished to say about swords.' King Wän,
thereafter, did not quit the palace for three months, and the
swordsmen all killed themselves in their own rooms. |