Kim ManChoong - The Cloud Dream of the Nine

The Master, with intoxicated look, at first made no reply, but after a time, pointing to the Princesses, he said: “The Princesses' brother, Prince Wol, has prevaricated to the Empress Dowager and brought me into judgment. I pleaded my own cause with skill and really cleared myself, but the Prince, by force, has put an imaginary fault upon me, and has caused me to undergo the wine punishment. If I had not been accustomed to wine I should have died. It is nothing but the result of his mortification of having been beaten in the lists yesterday. He wants to settle accounts with me, I see, and Orchid is jealous of my having so many wives. She has joined her brother in this scheme, no doubt. Her generous heart of former days seems to have gone. I pray you, mother, to give Orchid a glass of punishment as well and so make amends for this disgrace of mine.”

The mother said: “It is not at all clear that Orchid is guilty as you say, and she has never tasted wine in all her life. If you desire that I should punish her, let it be with a cup of tea instead.”

The Master said: “No, that will not do, it must be wine.”

The mother laughed and said to Orchid: “If your Highness does not drink of it, this wretched fellow will not be satisfied,” so she called a maid and ordered her to give to Orchid a glass of punishment.

While the Princess attempted to drink it, the Master suddenly expressed a doubt and tried to take the glass by force to taste it, but Orchid quickly threw it on to the matting. The Master then dipped his finger in the dregs, tasted it, and found that it was only sweetened water.

He said: “If her Majesty, the Empress, had punished me with sweetened water, my mother's giving sweetened water to Orchid would have been all right, but I have had to drink strong wine, so Orchid must have strong wine too and not sweetened water.” He called a maid and bade her bring a glass and he himself poured it full and sent it. The Princess, having no alternative, drank it all.

Then he said again to his mother: “The one who urged the Empress to give me wine punishment was Orchid, but Blossom was in the scheme, too, you may be sure. She sat before the Empress and saw all my confusion, but she only laughed and nodded to Orchid. There is no fathoming her. My desire is that you punish Blossom too.”

The mother laughed and sent the glass to Cheung See. Cheung See retired from her place and drank it.

The mother then said: “The Empress's punishment of the Master was on account of his having taken so many wives. The two Princesses have both had to drink of it, how can you girls escape?”

The Master said: “Prince Wol 's meeting me on the Festal Field was simply to find about our singers and dancers, and there, in spite of all his great company, he was defeated by Wildgoose, Moonlight, Swallow and White-cap. Our weak numbers put his whole palace to shame. In the contest we won the day, and this is why Prince Wol has vented his resentment on me and caused my discomfiture. These four must certainly be punished as well.”

The mother asked: “Do you punish those who win in the contest? Yours are the ridiculous words of a drunken man.” But she called the four and gave them each a glass; and when all had drunk, Wildgoose and Moonlight knelt before the mother and said: “The Empress's punishment of the Master was assuredly on account of his many wives, and not because of his having won the day on the Festal Field. Swallow and White-cap have not shared the Master's home and yet they have been punished also. Will this not be a source of resentment later? Cloudlet has for a long time been with him, and has been greatly favoured, but she did not share the sports on the Festal Field, and so has escaped the punishment altogether. The rest of us humble folk feel that this is not fair.”

“You are perfectly right,” said the mother. Then she gave a large glass to Cloudlet, who smothered her laughter and drank it, so all were made to share alike in the glass of punishment and all were put to confusion.

Princess Orchid was overcome and in great distress; but Chin See sat in a corner in a manner wholly unconcerned, saying nothing and without a smile.

The Master said: “Chin See alone is not moved by it, and regards all the rest of us with contempt. She shall be punished once more.” So he poured out another glass to the full and gave it to Chin See, who took it with a laugh and drank it.

The mother asked of the Princess: “Your Highness has never tasted of this before, how are you feeling?

She replied: “My head aches terribly.”

The mother told Chin See to help the Princess to her room, and bade Cloudlet pour out another glass and bring it. She took the glass and said: “Our two daughters are Princesses of the Palace and I feel that I am wholly unworthy of them. Now you in your intoxication have caused them much discomfort. If her Majesty the Empress hears of this she will be very much disturbed. I have failed to bring you up properly, so we have had this disgraceful scene to-day. I cannot say that I am without sin in the matter, so I shall have to take a glass myself.” She drank it all.

The Master, alarmed, knelt and said: “Mother, on account of my misdeeds, you have yourself shared in the glass of punishment. A beating, such as you give a child, would not be enough for me.” Then he made Wildgoose bring still another big glass. He took it and, kneeling, said: “I have not lived up to the teaching of my mother, but have caused her pain and anxiety, so I drink this extra glass for shame.” He drank it all and was so overcome that he could not sit up. He desired to go to his room and made signs accordingly. The mother asked Cloudlet to help him away, but she said she could not because Wildgoose and Moonlight would be jealous, so she told Moonlight and Wildgoose to do so instead.

Moonlight remarked: “Cloudlet does not wish to do it on account of what I said; I shall not either.”

Wildgoose laughed, arose and helped the Master away, and so they each and all retired.

Swallow and White-cap were great lovers of the open hills and streams. This the Master knew, and had made for them a beautiful lake in the middle of the Imperial park. There he erected a special home which he called “Butterfly Pavilion.” Here White-cap lived. On the other side of the lake was a hill whose top was ornamented with great rocks that were piled one above the other. There the shadows of the ancient pines screened the light and the spare graceful bamboo cast its grateful shade. Here also was a house built which he called “The Hall of Ice and Snow” in which Swallow took up her abode. When they all came out to have a happy time in the garden, Swallow and White-cap acted as hostesses of the sylvan halls.

The several sisters asked quietly of White-cap:

“Could you explain to us the wonderful law of metamorphosis through which you have passed.”

White-cap replied: “That is something that belongs to a former existence. Taking advantage of the divine wheel of change, and by means of the powers of nature, I put off my former body and changed my appearance. The scales and discarded features were very gruesome to behold. I am like the sparrow changed into a clam. How can you expect me still to have wings with which to fly?”

The ladies all said: “Surely the principles and laws governing such a thing are wonderful.”

Though Swallow, to please them, sometimes gave an exhibition of sword-dancing before the mother, the Master and the Princesses, she did not care to give it often, saying: “Though I met the Master because of my skill of hand with the sword, still the suggestion of death that goes with it does not make it a pleasant exercise nor one that should be often indulged.”

From this time on the two ladies and the six subsidiary wives were all gladness and joy together, like fishes in the stream, or birds that flit among the clouds. They were ever united in heart and ever dependent one on the other like real sisters, while the Master regarded them with love all alike. Though it was due to the goodness of the two ladies that the whole house was so happy, still it was specially due to the fact that the nine had all been once together on Nam-ak Mountain and thus their wishes were fulfilled.

On a certain day the two Princesses said to each other: “In olden days sisters were known to marry into one and the same family, some becoming wives of the first order, and some becoming wives of the second order. Now we two wives and our six attendant sisters love each other more than those born of the same house; and among us are some who have come from distant regions. How could this be otherwise than by the ordinance of God? Our persons and our names differ one from the other; our social conditions, too, were widely separated, and yet here we are to-day with no incongruity to mar our gathering. We are indeed older and younger sisters and love so to be called.”

Thus they spoke to the six sisters, when these, with great earnestness, disclaimed any such possibility, maintaining that they were wholly unworthy, especially Cloudlet, Wildgoose, and Moonlight.

Cheung See said: “Yoo Hyon-tok, Kwan On-jang, and Chang Ik-tok were all courtiers of the king, and yet they preserved to the last the bond of brotherhood. How much more should I be a loved and trusted sister to Cloudlet who was my dear friend in days gone by? The wife of Sokamoni and the wife of their next-door neighbour were worlds apart in social standing, and also in virtue and chastity. Still they each became disciples of the Buddha, and they became one in heart. One rises to the place of illumination and rectitude.”

The two Princesses said to the six:

“Let us go to the Merciful Buddha who sits within the palace chapel and there burn incense and offer prayer.”

They wrote out a solemn oath which read thus: “Such a year, such a day, the disciples Cheung called Blossom, Yi called Orchid, Chin called the Phoenix, Ka called Cloudlet, Kay called Moonlight, Chok called Wildgoose, Sim called Swallow, Pak called White-cap, having bathed and cleansed their hearts, come now with all reverence before the great Buddha of the Southern Sea.

“People of the world oftentimes reckon all within the Four Seas as brothers because they are similar in thought and desire. Even those born by appointment of God as brothers in the same family sometimes view each other as strangers and unknown passers by. This is due to the fact that they fail in love and have no common interest. We, eight disciples, though we have been born at different places, and have been separated wide as the four corners of the earth, now serve one husband, live in one place, and are one in thought and life. Our love is perfect and flows out to each other. If one were to make comparison we are surely like a group of flowers that grew on one twig and fared alike in wind and weather, till at last one fell into the palace, one into a home of the gentry, one on the bank by the way, one was swept into the mountains, one borne down the stream and out to sea, but if we seek the origin it will be found that we are all from one root and finally shall all return at last to one place. So it is with men when born of a similar blood though separated widely by the vicissitudes of time; they all come home to abide together in the end.

“The past has far receded from us. But in it we eight were born at one and the same time, and though we have been separated by this wide expanse of empire yet here we are gathered together and living in the same home. This is truly an affinity that has come down to us from a former existence and explains the joy and gladness of our present life.

“So we eight disciples make a solemn vow and swear an oath of sisterhood to receive together the blessings or the reverses of life; to live together and die together and never, never to part. If among us there be any otherwise minded and forgetful of this oath, may God strike them dead and may the invisible spirits regard them with abhorrence.

“We humbly pray that the great Buddha may give us blessing here and remove from us all sorrow, and help us so that when life is over we may enter the regions of the blessed.”

The two ladies hereafter called the six their younger sisters, but they, out of regard for their humble station, did not call the Princesses older sisters though they truly loved them as such in heart.

They each were blessed with children. The two Princesses, Cloudlet, Moonlight, Swallow and Wildgoose had each a son, while Phoenix and White-cap had each a daughter. Not once did any of them see a little child die in the home, which is an experience that differs from the common world of mortals.

At this time the whole world was at peace, with people dwelling safely and enjoying years of plentiful harvest. Little was there for the Government to do.

When the Emperor went on hunting expeditions the Master accompanied him, and on his return he would retire to his mother and family, where, with music and dancing, he passed happy days. Their joy and gladness accompanied the changing seasons. With years of office, the Master enjoyed great reward and prosperity. But in the providence of God when peace recedes unrest comes in its place, and, when joy has reached its full, sorrow falls.

Unexpectedly the lady Yoo fell ill and died at the advanced age of over ninety. The Master mourned deeply and sorrowed, so that both their Majesties were anxious and sent a eunuch to comfort him and attend his needs. He buried his mother with all the honours of a queen. Justice Cheung and his wife also passed away at a great age, and he mourned for them with no less sorrow than Cheung See herself.

The Master's six sons and two daughters were all blessed with the beauty and comeliness of their parents, like jade-stones and orchid flowers. The eldest son's name was Great Honour, child of Cheung See, and he rose to the office of Minister of Foreign Affairs; the second son's name was Lesser Honour, a son of Wildgoose, and he rose to the rank of Mayor of the Capital; the third was Lightsome Honour, a son of Cloudlet, who became Chief Justice; the fourth was Latest Honour, son of Princess Orchid, who became Minister of War; the fifth was called Fifth Honour, Moonlight's son, who rose to the rank of Chief of the Literati; the sixth was Final Honour, a son of Swallow. At fifteen he was stronger than any grown man, and was like the genii in his wisdom. The Master greatly loved him, and made him generalissimo of the forces. He commanded the forty thousand soldiers who served as guard for the Imperial Palace.

The eldest daughter's name was Tinted Rose, a child of Chin See. She married, later, Prince Wol's son. The second daughter was called Eternal Joy, born of White-cap. She became a second wife of the Prince Imperial.

The Master, who originally was but a common literatus, had met a King who knew his worth and took advantage of his mighty talents. He it was who brought a great war to a glad conclusion, and in merit and renown equalled Kwak Poon-yang.

The Master said: “If we are too prosperous misfortune easily follows, and if our cup of joy be too full a danger exists of running over. I shall now make request to retire from office.” And so he wrote, “I bow a hundred times and make my humble petition to his Majesty. My desire for riches and long life has been realised, and no longer does anything remain to be fulfilled. Parents ask for their children only riches and honour, thinking that if they attain to these nothing is left beyond. Is it not the glory of long life with fame and wealth that the world struggles and contends for? They are indeed the things that the human heart constantly craves. Men do not know the wisdom that says 'Enough,' but desire ever more and more till at last they plunge themselves into the sea of destruction that follows. Though long life and honour have their attractive sides, still they cannot equal a contented mind, or dying peacefully in one's native land. Though these are things we rejoice over, how can they equal a happy home? My abilities were of a mediocre kind and my powers limited, yet I have come to the highest estate possible and have held the most important offices in the land. I have had every honour and glory extended to me. My earliest ambitions did not reach a thousandth part of what has come to pass. Who would have guessed that such lay wrapped away in the future? Notwithstanding my humble station, I became the Imperial son-in-law, superior to all the other courtiers of the Palace; and the gifts of your Majesty have been showered upon me beyond measure. From a child who lived on herbs I have come to dine on the richest fare; and from the lowest origin I have come to be a dweller among kings. I fear that it will prove a blot on your Majesty's record and a wrong that I have permitted. How can I be happy in view of it? In my early days I desired to hide my origin, to retire from the world, to close my gates, to refuse all favour and to confess my presumption to Heaven, to Earth, and to the invisible spirits. But your Majesty's favours were so great that I could not resist them; and since I was strong and well in physique, I accepted, desiring to repay if possible some single part of what you had bestowed upon me. I guarded my ancestral graves, and so lived out my life. But old age is coming on and my hair is growing grey. My form is like the decaying tree and shows the approach of the autumn season and signs of the yellow leaf. My heart is like an unused well, which though never drawn from still runs dry. Although I take to myself as my model the dog and the horse and set my strength in an effort to requite the many favours that have been accorded me, there is no way open by which to do it.