TIME: The Sixth Century B.C.
SCENE: The Sacred Grove of Buddha. A broad pathway crosses the
stage, disappearing among the trees. In the background, a
clear space and a low broad stone. Sunlight on the road.
There is a sound of far-off chanting and at intervals the
boom of the Buddhist gong. The sound comes nearer.
Enter the sixteen Rakkan in procession, chanting, the Buddha
alone and last. They sit in a semi-circle, the Buddha on the
stone of Enlightenment, cross-legged in the traditional
attitude, the finger of exhortation raised. Binzuru and
Daruma are on either hand. Silence.
_Buddha._ Hear, O Rakkan. To live is to desire.
_Binzuru_ (groaning). O Master, it is true.
_Daruma_ (sharply). What saidst thou?
_Buddha._ To live is to desire. Is it not so, O Daruma?
_Daruma._ I have not found it so.
_Binzuru_ (cheerfully). This also is true. Daruma is a fish. Never in
his life hath he desired anything, save the confounding of me. Is it not
so, O Daruma?
_Buddha._ Peace, Binzuru. If Daruma were born a Buddha, jape not.
_One of the Rakkan._ Master, what is it to be born a Buddha?
_Buddha._ I know not. At a great cost obtained I this freedom.
_One of the Rakkan._ Master, how?
_Buddha._ Hear, O Rakkan. I dug out desire by the roots, as a man digs
to uproot the bamboo. I cut the thongs of hunger and delight. So was my
soul set free. So I achieved Nirvana.
_Another of the Rakkan._ Master, what is Nirvana?
_Buddha._ It is the Death of Death. It is the vision of the Infinite.
It is peace.
_Binzuru._ Master, this Infinite—is it in great grey rings that sway
... so (he balances his hands) ... and the affairs of the world go by
like duckweed in a river?
_Buddha._ Even so.
_Binzuru_ (triumphantly). Then have I seen the Infinite.
_Buddha._ When, Binzuru?
_Binzuru._ Years ago. Before I set my feet upon the Way of the
Buddhas. O Master, it is a stony way.
_Buddha_ (indulgently). And what was thy way?
_Binzuru._ See you, O Master, it is like this. One must first be well
drunken. (Daruma half rises, but the Buddha motions him down.) One fixes
the eye upon an object. A small object, a round object. And
contemplates. And the world falls into rings ... that sway. Twice have I
done it. Once it was the brim of my _saké_ cup ... and once the rim of
my pipe bowl. But (ruefully) when I entered on the Way, I renounced
these things. And Master, the Infinite has gone with them.
_Daruma_ (angrily). Master, wilt thou suffer him?
_Buddha._ Peace, Daruma. Binzuru, I fear thy jest is dearer to thee
than was thy _saké_. Nevertheless thou hast done well to renounce the
last. For hear, O Rakkan. There be three desires, the desire of life,
the desire of wine——
(The Rakkan on the outer edge of the semi-circle has a view of
the pathway from the village. He holds up a warning hand.
Women’s voices and laughter and the tinkle of a samisen.)
_Rakkan._ Master, there be women from the village approaching.
_Buddha._ Thou didst well to stay me. It is not good that the words of
the Law should be spoken in the hearing of women.
(He lapses into the immemorial attitude, the eyes heavy-lidded
and down-cast. All the Rakkan copy him, save Binzuru, who
twirls his thumbs and looks down the road, and Daruma, who
furtively watches Binzuru. Three women pass, laughing and
talking among themselves. They tinkle the samisen
provocatively as they go by. They eye the Buddhas, and the
girl with the samisen looks back over her shoulder, and
strikes three of the laughing notes as they disappear. The
Rakkan stir again, and Binzuru sighs.)
_Binzuru._ Master, why is the Law forbidden them? Have they not souls
to be saved?
_Buddha._ Yea, Binzuru. But it hath happened that in the saving of
their souls a man hath lost his own. Hear, O Rakkan. There be three
desires, and of them is she the deadliest. The Disturber of Integrity is
she, the Entangler of the Upright, the Snare of the World. Let not the
Buddhas look upon a woman——
_Daruma_ (leaning forward, that he may see the Buddha’s face). Master,
what then of Kwannon?
(The Buddha starts slightly, then recovering himself gazes
before him, darkened and lowering. Binzuru scowls at
Daruma.)
_Daruma_ (smoothly). Not for myself, Most August, would I ask it. But
there are evil-minded persons—— In my hearing it hath been said that in
the matter of Kwannon the Buddha did not practise as he preaches. And I
would have wherewith to stop the mouth of the adversary.
_Binzuru_ (truculently). Stop it with——
_Buddha_ (raising his head and speaking haltingly). Peace, Binzuru. It
may be that Daruma hath wisely spoken. It is an old tale and an evil. Of
that which was Kwannon’s life it is not mine to speak. It has naught to
do with me—or you. But this I know, that when for the sins of the flesh
and her spirit she was cast into Hell, darkness became light about
her—her beauty was very great—and Hell paradise. And the devils were
wroth, and they took her, and bound her hand and foot, and flung her
into the great slough that is between Hell and earth, deep mire where
there is no standing; and the filth received her, and Hell was Hell
again, and the light darkness. But after many months, on the side of it
nearest the earth ... I saw a lotus growing in the mire ... and one
morning, as I passed that way, I saw the cup was opened. And in it ...
her body.... (His voice dies into silence. The Rakkan sit forward
straining. Binzuru has forgotten even Daruma.)
_Binzuru_ (breathlessly). And?
_Buddha_ (rousing himself). I found her ... and made plain to her the
Way ... the Way of the Buddhas. And already has she reached Nirvana.
Wherefore, Binzuru (he turns, indulgent and whimsical), have patience,
and thou too shalt some day ... if the spirit be but willing. (He rises,
followed by the Rakkan.)
_Binzuru_ (ruefully). The spirit, Master, yea! But the flesh!
(The Rakkan form in procession, and the chant is about to
begin when Daruma turns to the Buddha.)
_Daruma._ Master, I would stay that I may meditate alone.
(The Buddha nods in silence. Exit the Rakkan in procession.
Daruma settles himself under a tree by the roadside, and
sits motionless, gazing before him. The chanting dies away.
There is a great stillness. Enter Binzuru. He saunters up
the road in the glare of the sun. He stops before Daruma,
surveying him. Daruma is in shadow.)
_Binzuru_ (approvingly). Nice little spot. Cool. Very.
(Daruma withers him, without moving.)
_Binzuru._ Contemplating? The Infinite? (He mops his forehead.)
_Daruma_ (hollowly). Trouble me not.
_Binzuru_ (earnestly). Not for the world. (He sits down beside him,
and waits until Daruma is again composed.) Got it again, Daruma?
_Daruma._ What?
_Binzuru._ The Infinite.
(Daruma ignores him.)
_Binzuru_ (pleasantly). Because I would give you counsel, Daruma. Good
counsel. Next time you get your eye on the Infinite, keep it there, and
(with sudden belligerence) leave the Buddha alone.
_Daruma_ (stirring uneasily). There are evil-minded persons——
_Binzuru_ (genially). There are. Minds like a carrion-crow. Like
yours, Daruma. (He settles himself more comfortably.) Never take
exercise, Daruma?
_Daruma_ (loftily). For months together I have not flickered an eyelid
nor uncrossed my legs.
_Binzuru._ Bad for you, Daruma. Bad for you. That explains it, O man
of bile. Bad for your legs, too. They’ll wither up. Wither up and drop
off. (He stretches his own legs before him and surveys them tenderly.
They are good legs.)
_Daruma._ It matters little how soon my legs, or I with them, are
absorbed into the Infinite Negation.
_Binzuru_ (eyeing the legs of Daruma critically). You may be right,
Daruma. You may be right.
(He crosses his own in the canonical attitude, folds his hands
on his stomach and looks straight before him. The drollery
vanishes from the eyes and the lines of the mouth. Slowly
his face becomes rapt. Silence.
(Women’s voices and laughter and the tinkle of a samisen, very
far off. Binzuru does not hear. He is so placed that his
eyes are on the unseen stretches of the road, but there is
no consciousness in them. Again silence.
(Binzuru’s face changes. Some one is approaching not yet seen
by the audience. It is the same absorption with which he
looked on the Infinite, but more rapturous. A woman comes in
sight. She is beautiful, and she sways as she comes. She is
carrying a jar on her head, and one arm is raised to steady
it. Binzuru leans forward, devouring her, but she does not
lift her eyes. All this while Daruma has sat motionless,
unseeing. She passes, and Binzuru turns sideways, still
following her with his eyes. He has risen on his knees, his
arms outstretched.)
_Binzuru_ (brokenly). Thy beauty——(He sinks back.)
(Daruma sits up with a jerk. His face livens with scandalised
malevolence. He turns and looks at the unconscious Binzuru,
bends forward, and looks quickly down the road. Then he nods
his head twice, gathers his garments from touching his
brother, and is about to hurry off when the boom of
the returning gong strikes on his ear. He nods with
satisfaction, and stands listening. Binzuru winces at the
sound like a man struck in his sleep; he rises and goes
slowly across the stage, his eyes wide open and fixed, like
one unwilling to break a dream. Daruma watches him till he
disappears. The sound of the gong comes very near. Enter the
Rakkan in procession, the Buddha at their head. Daruma
springs forward.)
_Daruma._ Master! Master! That such things should be! Our sainted
brother—overtaken—of mortal sin!
(He is gesticulating. Intense and pleased interest on the
faces of the Rakkan. The Buddha motions him aside, paces
forward to the daïs, and sits down deliberately. The Rakkan
follow him.)
_Buddha._ Now, Daruma, thou mayst unburden thyself.
_Daruma._ Master, we sat thus by the road, he and I; I perceiving the
Infinite, he twirling his thumbs. And behold, a woman passed down the
road, swaying as she went——
_Buddha._ How comes it that thou didst see her, if thine eyes were on
the Infinite?
_Daruma._ Master, I did not see her, then. My soul was as a kite,
tossing among grey clouds. But the voice of my brother in speech with
her grappled me, and the lewdness thereof was as a rough hand on the
string that jerked me back to the world.
_Buddha._ Of what then dost thou accuse thy brother?
_Daruma_ (drawing himself up). He, a Buddha, has looked upon a woman
and found her fair. He is sinner of mortal sin. (He raises his arm.
Stridently,) Let him be cast out!
_All the Rakkan_ (rising, and with the same gesture). Let him be cast
out!
(The Buddha gazes sombrely before him. There is a rustle and
nudging among the Rakkan. They crane forward. Binzuru is
coming down the road, rapt, unseeing, swaying as he comes,
his hands balancing up and down before him, smiling a little
foolishly. He appears to see no one, is still walking in a
dream. The Buddha watches him, then turns upon the Rakkan.)
_Buddha._ Go.
(They rise mutinously, looking at one another and at the
Buddha. He sits unmoved. They form sullenly and march out,
Daruma alone and last. Meanwhile Binzuru continues his
progress. The Buddha watches him sadly.)
_Buddha._ Binzuru.
(Binzuru comes to himself, somewhat dazed. He turns to the
Buddha, rapturous.)
_Binzuru._ Master, I have perceived the Infinite.
_Buddha._ Thou hast perceived a woman.
(Binzuru stops short. Slow realisation dawns upon his face. He
is puzzled and piteous.)
_Binzuru._ Master, what have I done?
_Buddha._ Thou hast looked upon a woman to lust after her. It is
Daruma who says it. Is this thing true?
_Binzuru_ (stands thinking). Master ... I know not. It was this way.
We sat together, in the shadow, he and I. But I forgot him. Master, I
saw the Infinite. It was grey ... but with the greyness of a pearl. Then
she came ... afar off ... and I saw her not, but the greyness was
suffused ... it glowed ... like a pearl when it lies on a woman’s flesh.
(The Buddha raises a warning hand. Binzuru nods hastily.) She came
nearer, and the grey waves slipped back. And nearer.... And at last
there was nothing but herself in all the world. She passed by, and I
looked before me, and saw nothing, and heard nothing, and of what befell
thereafter I can tell nothing. Of myself I had no knowledge, until ...
until your voice brought back my soul.
(There is silence for a long while.)
_Buddha_ (slowly). Thou hast seen the Infinite. It is true, Binzuru,
and I would it were not. For to have seen the Infinite, and to be
distracted from it by the Finite, by a woman, is to sin against light.
_Binzuru._ But, Master, she glorified the Infinite.
_Buddha._ For how long?
(Silence.)
_Binzuru_ (unwillingly). Until she drew near.
(He stands, his head sunk on his breast. The Buddha gazes
before him. At last he turns and looks down the road by
which the Rakkan departed.)
_Buddha._ They, thy brethren, demand that thou be cast out.
_Binzuru_ (falling on his knees). Master, not that! I will go down
many degrees in the Scale of Virtue. I will humble myself—even to the
feet of Daruma. Let me not be cast out!
_Buddha._ Thou didst see, and didst look away. Thyself shall judge
whether thou art of the Buddhas or no. It is not I who give or take
away.
_Binzuru_ (desperately). Did not Kwannon the harlot——
_Buddha._ Kwannon!
(It is almost a cry. Binzuru checks himself at the sound of
it. He gazes at the Buddha, wonderingly. At last the Buddha
recovers himself, but he does not look at Binzuru.)
_Buddha._ If ... Kwannon ... sinned, it was before her feet were set
upon the way.
(Binzuru watches him, with dawning comprehension. He gets
slowly to his feet.)
_Binzuru_ (heavily). It is enough. I will go.
(He walks to the path, the Buddha watching him drearily. Just
as he is turning down the road, the Buddha’s face lightens.)
_Buddha._ Binzuru! (Binzuru turns, but makes no attempt to come back.)
It cannot be but that thou shouldst go. And yet ... I would not have
thee far from me. Binzuru, thou hast cast in thy lot with the flesh.
Always must thou cleave thereto. What and if I give thee power to cure
all fleshly ills?
_Binzuru._ Master, there is no ill.
_Buddha._ Thou hast rightly said. Thou and I, we know that it is but
part of the Great Illusion. But the multitude, Binzuru, that do not
know.... (Whimsically.) Toothache—it is a tenacious illusion.
_Binzuru_ (bewildered). O Master, it is true. But how shall I cure
toothache?
_Buddha_ (gaily). See you, Binzuru, thou shalt have efficacy in that
same stubborn flesh of thine. The small ones shall come, that have
burned their fingers in the fire, and rub thy fingers—so—and the
smarting shall be eased. Likewise a profound sciatica——
_Binzuru_ (dismayed). But, Master, they will rub me away!
_Buddha_ (more gravely). Even so. So shalt thou work out thy
salvation. Thou knowest, Binzuru, that they, the multitude, go about
even now to build us a temple. I and the Rakkan shall sit inside the
chancel. Thou, Binzuru, must sit without. But all day shall the faithful
throng thee. And behold, the touch of faith will do from without what
thyself couldst not from within. They will rub thee away, Binzuru, rid
thee of thy unruly flesh. And so, in the end of the ages, thou too shalt
achieve Nirvana. Till then—(he raises his hand in benediction and
farewell. Binzuru bows himself, and goes slowly out.)
(The Buddha watches him, long after he has disappeared. Then
rousing himself, he moves over to the gong which the Rakkan
have left standing, strikes a single note, and returns to
the old attitude. The Rakkan return, looking this way and
that, and whispering among themselves. They sit down, all
but Daruma, who stands uncertainly, eyeing the coveted seat
at the Buddha’s right hand. He walks a pace towards it,
stops, and eyes the Buddha.)
_Daruma_ (pointing). Master ... the seat on thy right hand ... is it
empty?
_Buddha._ Thou seest it.
_Daruma_ (hesitating and moving uneasily). Master ... is it thy will
that it remain empty?
_Buddha._ Thou hast said.
(Daruma, scowling and chagrined, takes his old seat. The
Rakkan stiffen into the Buddha’s rigid pose.)
CURTAIN.
---------------------------------------------------------