West, who could walk through water and fire, and pass through metal
and stone. He could make mountains and rivers change place, shift
about cities and castles, rise into emptiness without falling, strike
against solid matter without finding it an obstruction; and he knew a
thousand transformations in all their inexhaustible variety. And he
could not only change the shape of things but he could change men's
thoughts. The King honored him like a god, and served him as he would
a master. He resigned his own apartments that the magician might be
lodged in them, had beasts of sacrifice brought to offer him, and
selected sweet singers to give him pleasure. But the rooms in the
King's palace were too humble--the magician could not dwell in them;
and the King's singers were not musical enough to be allowed to be
near him. So King Mu had a new palace built for him. The work of
bricklayers and carpenters, of painters and stainers left nothing to
be desired with regard to skill. The King's treasury was empty when
the tower had reached its full height. It was a thousand fathoms high,
and rose above the top of the mountain before the capital. The King
selected maidens, the loveliest and most dainty, gave them fragrant
essences, had their eyebrows curved in lines of beauty, and adorned
their hair and ears with jewels. He garbed them in fine cloth, and
with white silks fluttering about them, and had their faces painted
white and their eyebrows stained black. He had them put on armlets of
precious stones and mix sweet-smelling herbs. They filled the palace
and sang the songs of the ancient kings in order to please the
magician. Every month the most costly garments were brought him, and
every morning the most delicate food. The magician allowed them to do
so, and since he had no choice, made the best of it.
Not long afterward the magician invited the King to go traveling with
him. The King grasped the magician's sleeve, and thus they flew up
through the air to the middle of the skies. When they stopped they
found they had reached the palace of the magician. It was built of
gold and silver, and adorned with pearls and precious stones. It
towered high over the clouds and rain; and none could say whereon it
rested. To the eye it had the appearance of heaped-up clouds. All that
it offered the senses was different from the things of the world of
men. It seemed to the King as though he were bodily present in the
midst of the purple depths of the city of the air, of the divine
harmony of the spheres, where the Great God dwells. The King looked
down, and his castles and pleasure-houses appeared to him like hills
of earth and heaps of straw. And there the King remained for some
decades and thought no more of his kingdom.
Then the magician again invited the King to go traveling with him once
more. And in the place to which they came there was to be seen neither
sun nor moon above, nor rivers or sea below. The King's dazzled eyes
could not see the radiant shapes which showed themselves; the King's
dulled ears could not hear the sounds which played about them. It
seemed as though his body were dissolving in confusion; his thoughts
began to stray, and consciousness threatened to leave him. So he
begged the magician to return. The magician put his spell upon him,
and it seemed to the King as though he were falling into empty space.
When he regained consciousness, he was sitting at the same place where
he had been sitting when the magician had asked him to travel with him
for the first time. The servants waiting on him were the same, and
when he looked down, his goblet was not yet empty, and his food had
not yet grown cold.
The King asked what had happened. And the servants answered, "The King
sat for a space in silence." Whereupon the King was quite bereft of
reason, and it was three months before he regained his right mind.
Then he questioned the magician. The magician said: "I was traveling
with you in the spirit, O King! What need was there for the body to go
along? And the place in which we stayed at that time was no less real
than your own castle and your own gardens. But you are used only to
permanent conditions, therefore visions which dissolve so suddenly
appear strange to you."
The King was content with the explanation. He gave no further thought
to the business of government and took no more interest in his
servants, but resolved to travel afar. So he had the eight famous
steeds harnessed, and accompanied by a few faithful retainers, drove a
thousand miles away. There he came to the country of the great
hunters. The great hunters brought the King the blood of the white
brant to drink, and washed his feet in the milk of mares and cows.
When the King and his followers had quenched their thirst, they drove
on and camped for the night on the slope of the Kunlun Mountain, south
of the Red River. The next day they climbed to the peak of Kunlun
Mountain and gazed at the castle of the Lord of the Yellow Earth.
Then they traveled on to the Queen-Mother of the West. Before they got
there they had to pass the Weak River. This is a river whose waters
will bear neither floats nor ships. All that attempts to float over it
sinks into its depths. When the King reached the shore, fish and
turtles, crabs and salamanders came swimming up and formed a bridge,
so that he could drive across with the wagon.
It is said of the Queen-Mother of the West that she goes about with
hair unkempt, with a bird's beak and tiger's teeth, and that she is
skilled in playing the flute. Yet this is not her true figure, but
that of a spirit who serves her, and rules over the Western sky. The
Queen-Mother entertained King Mu in her castle by the Springs of Jade.
And she gave him rock-marrow to drink and fed him with the fruit of
the jade-trees. Then she sang him a song and taught him a magic
formula by means of which one could obtain long life. The Queen-Mother
of the West gathers the immortals around her, and gives them to eat of
the peaches of long life; and then they come to her with wagons with
purple canopies, drawn by flying dragons. Ordinary mortals sink in the
Weak River when they try to cross. But she was kindly disposed to King
Mu.
When he took leave of her, he also went on to the spot where the sun
turns in after running three thousand miles a day. Then he returned
again to his kingdom.
When King Mu was a hundred years old, the Queen-Mother of the West
drew near his palace and led him away with her into the clouds.
And from that day on he was seen no more.
Note: King Mu of Dschou reigned from 1001 to 946 B.C.
With his name are associated the stories of the
marvelous travels into the land of the far West, and
especially to the Queen-Mother (who is identified by
some with Juno). The peaches of immortality suggest the
apples of the Hesperides. (Comp. with the story of "The
Ape Sun Wu Kung.")
XXXVI
THE KING OF HUAI NAN
The King of Huai Nan was a learned man of the Han dynasty. Since he
was of the blood royal the emperor had given him a kingdom in fee. He
cultivated the society of scholars, could interpret signs and foretell
the future. Together with his scholars he had compiled the book which
bears his name.
One day eight aged men came to see him. They all had white beards and
white hair. The gate-keeper announced them to the King. The King
wished to try them, so he sent back the gate-keeper to put
difficulties in the way of their entrance. The latter said to them:
"Our King is striving to learn the art of immortal life. You gentlemen
are old and feeble. How can you be of aid to him? It is unnecessary
for you to pay him a visit."
The eight old men smiled and said: "Oh, and are we too old to suit
you? Well, then we will make ourselves young!" And before they had
finished speaking they had turned themselves into boys of fourteen and
fifteen, with hair-knots as black as silk and faces like
peach-blossoms. The gate-keeper was frightened, and at once informed
the King of what had happened. When the King heard it, he did not even
take time to slip into his shoes, but hurried out barefoot to receive
them. He led them into his palace, had rugs of brocade spread for
them, and beds of ivory set up, fragrant herbs burned and tables of
gold and precious stones set in front of them. Then he bowed before
them as pupils do before a teacher, and told them how glad he was that
they had come.
The eight boys changed into old men again and said: "Do you wish to go
to school to us, O King? Each one of us is master of a particular art.
One of us can call up wind and rain, cause clouds and mists to gather,
rivers to flow and mountains to heave themselves up, if he wills it
so. The second can cause high mountains to split asunder and check
great streams in their course. He can tame tigers and panthers and
soothe serpents and dragons. Spirits and gods do his bidding. The
third can send out doubles, transform himself into other shapes, make
himself invisible, cause whole armies to disappear, and turn day into
night. The fourth can walk through the air and clouds, can stroll on
the surface of the waves, pass through walls and rocks and cover a
thousand miles in a single breath. The fifth can enter fire without
burning, and water without drowning. The winter frost cannot chill
him, nor the summer heat burn him. The sixth can create and transform
living creatures if he feel inclined. He can form birds and beasts,
grasses and trees. He can transplace houses and castles. The seventh
can bake lime so that it turns to gold, and cook lead so that it turns
to silver; he can mingle water and stone so that the bubbles
effervesce and turn into pearls. The eighth can ride on dragons and
cranes to the eight poles of the world, converse with the immortals,
and stand in the presence of the Great Pure One."
The King kept them beside him from morning to night, entertained them
and had them show him what they could do. And, true enough, they could
do everything just as they had said. And now the King began to distil
the elixir of life with their aid. He had finished, but not yet
imbibed it when a misfortune overtook his family. His son had been
playing with a courtier and the latter had heedlessly wounded him.
Fearing that the prince might punish him, he joined other discontented
persons and excited a revolt. And the emperor, when he heard of it,
sent one of his captains to judge between the King and the rebels.
The eight aged men spoke: "It is now time to go. This misfortune has
been sent you from heaven, O King! Had it not befallen you, you would
not have been able to resolve to leave the splendors and glories of
this world!"
They led him on to a mountain. There they offered sacrifices to
heaven, and buried gold in the earth. Then they ascended into the
skies in bright daylight. The footprints of the eight aged men and of
the king were imprinted in the rock of the mountain, and may be seen
there to this very day. Before they had left the castle, however, they
had set what was left of the elixir of life out in the courtyard. Hens
and hounds picked and licked it up, and all flew up into the skies. In
Huai Nan to this very day the crowing of cocks and the barking of
hounds may be heard up in the skies, and it is said that these are the
creatures who followed the King at the time.
One of the King's servants, however, followed him to an island in the
sea, whence he sent him back. He told that the King himself had not
yet ascended to the skies, but had only become immortal and was
wandering about the world. When the emperor heard of the matter he
regretted greatly that he had sent soldiers into the King's land and
thus driven him out. He called in magicians to aid him, in hope of
meeting the eight old men himself. Yet, for all that he spent great
sums, he was not successful. The magicians only cheated him.
Note: The King of Huai Nan was named Liu An. He belonged
to the Han dynasty. He dabbled largely in magic, and
drew to his court many magicians whose labors are
collected in the philosophical work which bears his
name. Liu An lived at the time of the Emperor Wu (see
No. 34). The latter having no heirs, Liu An entered into
a conspiracy which, however, was discovered. As a
consequence he killed himself, 122 B.C. Our fairy-tale
presents these events in their legendary transformation.
XXXVII
OLD DSCHANG
Once upon a time there was a man who went by the name of Old Dschang.
He lived in the country, near Yangdschou, as a gardener. His neighbor,
named Sir We, held an official position in Yangdschou. Sir We had
decided that it was time for his daughter to marry, so he sent for a
match-maker and commissioned her to find a suitable husband. Old
Dschang heard this, and was pleased. He prepared food and drink,
entertained the match-maker, and told her to recommend him as a
husband. But the old match-maker went off scolding.
The next day he invited her to dinner again and gave her money. Then
the old match-maker said: "You do not know what you wish! Why should a
gentleman's beautiful daughter condescend to marry a poor old gardener
like yourself? Even though you had money to burn, your white hair
would not match her black locks. Such a marriage is out of the
question!"
But Old Dschang did not cease to entreat her: "Make an attempt, just
one attempt, to mention me! If they will not listen to you, then I
must resign myself to my fate!"
The old match-maker had taken his money, so she could not well refuse,
and though she feared being scolded, she mentioned him to Sir We. He
grew angry and wanted to throw her out of the house.
"I knew you would not thank me," said she, "but the old man urged it
so that I could not refuse to mention his intention."
"Tell the old man that if this very day he brings me two white
jade-stones, and four hundred ounces of yellow gold, then I will give
him my daughter's hand in marriage."
But he only wished to mock the old man's folly, for he knew that the
latter could not give him anything of the kind. The match-maker went
to Old Dschang and delivered the message. And he made no objection;
but at once brought the exact quantity of gold and jewels to Sir We's
house. The latter was very much frightened and when his wife heard of
it, she began to weep and wail loudly. But the girl encouraged her
mother: "My father has given his word now and cannot break it. I will
know how to bear my fate."
So Sir We's daughter was married to Old Dschang. But even after the
wedding the latter did not give up his work as a gardener. He spaded
the field and sold vegetables as usual, and his wife had to fetch
water and build the kitchen fire herself. But she did her work without
false shame and, though her relatives reproached her, she continued to
do so.
Once an aristocratic relative visited Sir We and said: "If you had
really been poor, were there not enough young gentlemen in the
neighborhood for your daughter? Why did you have to marry her to such
a wrinkled old gardener? Now that you have thrown her away, so to
speak, it would be better if both of them left this part of the
country."
Then Sir We prepared a banquet and invited his daughter and Old
Dschang to visit him. When they had had sufficient to eat and drink he
allowed them to get an inkling of what was in his mind.
Said Old Dschang: "I have only remained here because I thought you
would long for your daughter. But since you are tired of us, I will be
glad to go. I have a little country house back in the hills, and we
will set out for it early to-morrow morning."
The following morning, at break of dawn, Old Dschang came with his
wife to say farewell. Sir We said: "Should we long to see you at some
later time, my son can make inquiries." Old Dschang placed his wife on
a donkey and gave her a straw hat to wear. He himself took his staff
and walked after.
A few years passed without any news from either of them. Then Sir We
and his wife felt quite a longing to see their daughter and sent their
son to make inquiries. When the latter got back in the hills he met a
plow-boy who was plowing with two yellow steers. He asked him: "Where
is Old Dschang's country house?" The plow-boy left the plow in the
harrow, bowed and answered: "You have been a long time coming, sir!
The village is not far from here: I will show you the way."
They crossed a hill. At the foot of the hill flowed a brook, and when
they had crossed the brook they had to climb another hill. Gradually
the landscape changed. From the top of the hill could be seen a
valley, level in the middle, surrounded by abrupt crags and shaded by
green trees, among which houses and towers peeped forth. This was the
country house of Old Dschang. Before the village flowed a deep brook
full of clear, blue water. They passed over a stone bridge and reached
the gate. Here flowers and trees grew in luxurious profusion, and
peacocks and cranes flew about. From the distance could be heard the
sound of flutes and of stringed instruments. Crystal-clear tones rose
to the clouds. A messenger in a purple robe received the guest at the
gate and led him into a hall of surpassing splendor. Strange
fragrances filled the air, and there was a ringing of little bells of
pearl. Two maid-servants came forth to greet him, followed by two rows
of beautiful girls in a long processional. After them a man in a
flowing turban, clad in scarlet silk, with red slippers, came floating
along. The guest saluted him. He was serious and dignified, and at the
same time seemed youthfully fresh. At first We's son did not recognize
him, but when he looked more closely, why it was Old Dschang! The
latter said with a smile: "I am pleased that the long road to travel
has not prevented your coming. Your sister is just combing her hair.
She will welcome you in a moment." Then he had him sit down and drink
tea.
After a short time a maid-servant came and led him to the inner rooms,
to his sister. The beams of her room were of sandalwood, the doors of
tortoise-shell and the windows inlaid with blue jade; her curtains
were formed of strings of pearls and the steps leading into the room
of green nephrite. His sister was magnificently gowned, and far more
beautiful than before. She asked him carelessly how he was getting
along, and what her parents were doing; but was not very cordial.
After a splendid meal she had an apartment prepared for him.
"My sister wishes to make an excursion to the Mountain of the
Fairies," said Old Dschang to him. "We will be back about sunset, and
you can rest until we return."
Then many-colored clouds rose in the courtyard, and dulcet music
sounded on the air. Old Dschang mounted a dragon, while his wife and
sister rode on phenixes and their attendants on cranes. So they rose
into the air and disappeared in an easterly direction. They did not
return until after sunset.
Old Dschang and his wife then said to him: "This is an abode of the
blessed. You cannot remain here overlong. To-morrow we will escort you
back."
On the following day, when taking leave, Old Dschang gave him eighty
ounces of gold and an old straw hat. "Should you need money," said he,
"you can go to Yangdschou and inquire in the northern suburb for old
Wang's drug-shop. There you can collect ten million pieces of copper.
This hat is the order for them." Then he ordered his plow-boy to take
him home again.
Quite a few of the folks at home, to whom he described his adventures,
thought that Old Dschang must be a holy man, while others regarded the
whole thing a magic vision.
After five or six years Sir We's money came to an end. So his son took
the straw hat to Yangdschou and there asked for old Wang. The latter
just happened to be standing in his drug-shop, mixing herbs. When the
son explained his errand he said: "The money is ready. But is your hat
genuine?" And he took the hat and examined it. A young girl came from
an inner room and said: "I wove the hat for Old Dschang myself. There
must be a red thread in it." And sure enough, there was. Then old Wang
gave young We the ten million pieces of copper, and the latter now
believed that Old Dschang was really a saint. So he once more went
over the hills to look for him. He asked the forest-keepers, but they
could tell him naught. Sadly he retraced his steps and decided to
inquire of old Wang, but he had also disappeared.
When several years had passed he once more came to Yangdschou, and was
walking in the meadow before the city gate. There he met Old Dschang's
plow-boy. The latter cried out: "How are you? How are you?" and drew
out ten pounds of gold, which he gave to him, saying: "My mistress
told me to give you this. My master is this very moment drinking tea
with old Wang in the inn." Young We followed the plow-boy, intending
to greet his brother-in-law. But when he reached the inn there was no
one in sight. And when he turned around the plow-boy had disappeared
as well. And since that time no one ever heard from Old Dschang again.
Note: The match-maker, according to Chinese custom--and
the custom of other oriental peoples--is an absolutely
necessary mediator between the two families. There are
old women who make their living at this profession.
XXXVIII
THE KINDLY MAGICIAN
Once upon a time there was a man named Du Dsi Tschun. In his youth he
was a spendthrift and paid no heed to his property. He was given to
drink and idling. When he had run through all his money, his relatives
cast him out. One winter day he was walking barefoot about the city,
with an empty stomach and torn clothes. Evening came on and still he
had not found any food. Without end or aim he wandered about the
market place. He was hungry, and the cold seemed well nigh
unendurable. So he turned his eyes upward and began to lament aloud.
Suddenly an ancient man stood before him, leaning on a staff, who
said: "What do you lack since you complain so?"
"I am dying of hunger," replied Du Dsi Tschun, "and not a soul will
take pity on me!"
The ancient man said: "How much money would you need in order to live
in all comfort?"
"If I had fifty thousand pieces of copper it would answer my purpose,"
replied Du Dsi Tschun.
The ancient said: "That would not answer."
"Well, then, a million!"
"That is still too little!"
"Well, then, three million!"
The ancient man said: "That is well spoken!" He fetched a thousand
pieces of copper out of his sleeve and said: "That is for this
evening. Expect me to-morrow by noon, at the Persian Bazaar!"
At the time set Du Dsi Tschun went there, and, sure enough, there was
the ancient, who gave him three million pieces of copper. Then he
disappeared, without giving his name.
When Du Dsi Tschun held the money in his hand, his love for
prodigality once more awoke. He rode pampered steeds, clothed himself
in the finest furs, went back to his wine, and led such an extravagant
life that the money gradually came to an end. Instead of wearing
brocade he had to wear cotton, and instead of riding horseback he went
to the dogs. Finally he was again running about barefoot and in rags
as before, and did not know how to satisfy his hunger. Once more he
stood in the market-place and sighed. But the ancient was already
there, took him by the hand and said: "Are you back already to where
you were? That is strange! However, I will aid you once more!"
But Du Dsi Tschun was ashamed and did not want to accept his help. Yet
the ancient insisted, and led him along to the Persian Bazaar. This
time he gave him ten million pieces of copper, and Du Dsi Tschun
thanked him with shame in his heart.
With money in hand, he tried to give time to adding to it, and saving
in order to gain great wealth. But, as is always the case, it is hard
to overcome ingrown faults. Gradually he began to fling his money away
again, and gave free rein to all his desires. And once more his purse
grew empty. In a couple of years he was as poor as ever he had been.
Then he met the ancient the third time, but was so ashamed of himself
that he hid his face when he passed him.
The ancient seized his arm and said: "Where are you going? I will help
you once more. I will give you thirty million. But if then you do not
improve you are past all aid!"
Full of gratitude, Du Dsi Tschun bowed before him and said: "In the
days of my poverty my wealthy relatives did not seek me out. You alone
have thrice aided me. The money you give me to-day shall not be
squandered, that I swear; but I will devote it to good works in order
to repay your great kindness. And when I have done this I will follow
you, if needs be through fire and through water."
The ancient replied: "That is right! When you have ordered these
things ask for me in the temple of Laotsze beneath the two mulberry
trees!"
Du Dsi Tschun took the money and went to Yangdschou. There he bought a
hundred acres of the best land, and built a lofty house with many
hundreds of rooms on the highway. And there he allowed widows and
orphans to live. Then he bought a burial-place for his ancestors, and
supported his needy relations. Countless people were indebted to him
for their livelihood.