Chuang Tzu

In the old days, King Wen of Chao delighted in swordsmanship. Swordsman crowded around his gates and he had more than three thousand of them as retainers. Day and night, they came before him to have at each other, and the harvest of killed and wounded exceeded a hundred per year. But he loved it relentlessly, and within three years the whole country was in decline, and neighboring feudal lords all began plotting and scheming against it.

Crown Prince Kuei, seeing the calamity, summoned his retinue together and said, "I'll give a thousand in gold to anyone who can convince the king to stop all this swordplay."

The retainers replied, "Chuang Tzu can do it!"

So the crown prince sent one of his men to take a thousand in gold to Chaung Tzu. But the master declined the offer, returning with the man nevertheless for an audience with the crown prince.

"What do you ask of me that I should be rewarded with a thousand gold?"

"I've heard you are an enlightened sage, and I, your humble follower, humbly sent a thousand gold to support your entourage. If you are unwilling to accept it, how could I dare speak more of it?"

"I've heard that the crown prince wishes to use me," Chuang Tzu said, "to cut off the king's delight and his addiction. But if you send me to speak before the king, and I offend him, I will have failed you as well, and this body will be punished to death. What use will I have for gold then? And if I meet your end through speaking up, what in the land of Chao might I ask for that would not be granted?"

"That's so," the crown prince said, "But our king gives audience only to swordsmen."

"No problem," Chuang Tzu counted, "I'm good with swords."

"Good. But all the swordsmen who are granted an audience with the king have hair like brambles and bristling beards," the prince replied. "They wear loose caps with course straps dangling, and robes that cut short behind. They glare and tell war stories, and the king loves it. If you go to an audience dressed like one of those Confucian weaklings, you'll certainly offend him."

"If it please your highness, I'll submit to being dressed to kill."

Over the following days, Chuang Tzu got "dressed fit to kill" like a swordsman, then sought audience with the crown prince. The crown prince escorted him to an audience with the king. The king bared his sword's white blade as he awaited them. Chuang Tzu entered the palace doorway unhurriedly, and when he saw the king, he didn't bow.

The king demanded, "What have you got to show me now that you've gotten the crown prince to put you forward?"

"I've heard the great king delights in swords, so I've brought mine to the king's audience."

"And what special powers have you with the sword?"

"My sword? Put a man against me and my sword, one at every ten paces, and we'll stroll through them for a thousand li pausing,"

The king was impressed, "There's no match for you in All-under-heaven!"

"To make use of the sword," Chuang Tzu said, "first make an empty feint. Then open your opponent by giving him an obvious advantage. Then strike, and get there first. But let me demonstrate."

"You, sir, go and take your rest in your quarters," the king said, "Await my command. When the show is arranged, I will call for you."

For seven days, the king held combat. Some sixty swordsmen were killed or wounded. He finally chose five or six to submit themselves and their swords to the test before the court. Then he summoned Chuang Tzu. "Today we'll show these knights some honest swordsmanship," he smiled.

"I've been waiting for this," Chuang Tzu replied.

"Long sword or short, sir?" the king asked.

"Oh, any kind will do," Chuang Tzu smiled. "In fact, I brought three that might be fit for a king. If you don't mind, I'll speak of them before submitting them to the test. I have the Sword of the Son of Heaven, the Sword of the Feudal Lord, and the sword of the ordinary man."

"What's this Sword of the Son of Heaven like?" the king demanded.

"The Sword of the Son of Heaven takes the valley and the great stone wall of the state of Yen as its point, the realms of Ch'i and Tai for its blade, the lands of Chin and Way for its forte and foible. The states of Chou and Sung are its hilt, and Han and Wei are its pommel. It's securely wrapped by the four barbarian tribes and tied with the string of the Four Seasons. Its scabbard is the Sea of Po, and its belt is the Mountain of the Enduring Heart. The Five Elements give it order, and the example of the Power of Virtue provides its judgments. Yin and Yang draw this blade. Spring and summer grasp it. Autumn and winter are its use. Thrust, and nothing stands before it; parry high and none will rise above it; parry low, and nothing will get beneath it; parry to the side, and none will get around it. Above, it slices floating clouds; below, it pierces the stolid earth. Use this sword but once, and the feudal lords will see their master and All-under-heaven will submit. Such is the Sword of the Son of Heaven."

King Wen looked confused, as if he'd lost a trial with himself. "And the Sword of the Feudal Lord," he asked, "what about that?"

"The Sword of the Feudal Lord has knowing and courageous knights for its point, pure and chaste knights for its blade, worthy and excellent knights for its forte and foible, loyal and sage knights as its hilt, and bold warriors and bravos as its pommel. Thrust with this sword, and nothing stands before it. Parry high, and none will outreach it; parry low, and none will get under it; parry to the side, and none will get around it. Its highest reach rounds the heavens, following the lead of sun, moon, and stars. Its lowest reach squares with the earth, following the Four Seasons. In the middle it harmonizes with the song in the hearts of the people, bringing peace to every village. Use this sword but once, and in the shudder of the thunderbolt there will be none who do not submit to hear and abide by the commands of the lord. This is the Sword of the Feudal Lord."

"And what about the sword of the ordinary man?" King Wen asked.

"The swords of ordinary men¡ªmen with hair like brambles and with bristling beards? Loose-capped, with coarse straps dangling, with robes cut short behind? The kind that glare and relish telling war stories? That sword, when it thrusts, is met with a thrust. Parry high with it, and it lets in a sweep that lops heads from necks. Parry low, and it lets in a thrust that pierces liver or lung. Those who would strike with the sword of an ordinary man are nothing but fighting cocks. One morning they crow. One word from you, and they'll croak. They're no use to your realm. Now a Great King has the standing to become the Son of Heaven, yet you are addicted to the swords of ordinary men. Your servant dares to suggest that this is unworthy of you."

The king took Chuang Tzu in hand and led him into the High Hall. The chief chef prepared a meal, but the king just circled around it.

"Oh, Great King," Chuang Tzu urged, "sit quiet. Settle your ch'i. The sword business is done."

The king remained inside the palace for three months. The swordsmen submitted themselves to their swords in their own chambers.