Charan

[Some think that love, strong, true, and self-sacrificing, is not to

be found in the Orient; but the story of Charan, which comes down

four hundred years and more, proves the contrary, for it still has

the fresh, sweet flavour of a romance of yesterday; albeit the setting

of the East provides an odd and interesting background.]

In the days of King Sung-jong (A.D. 1488-1495) one of Korea's noted

men became governor of Pyong-an Province. Now Pyong-an stands first

of all the eight provinces in the attainments of erudition and polite

society. Many of her literati are good musicians, and show ability

in the affairs of State.

At the time of this story there was a famous dancing girl in Pyong-an

whose name was Charan. She was very beautiful, and sang and danced to

the delight of all beholders. Her ability, too, was specially marked,

for she understood the classics and was acquainted with history. The

brightest of all the geisha was she, famous and far-renowned.

The Governor's family consisted of a son, whose age was sixteen,

and whose face was comely as a picture. Though so young, he was

thoroughly grounded in Chinese, and was a gifted scholar. His

judgment was excellent, and he had a fine appreciation of literary

form, so that the moment he lifted his pen the written line took on

admirable expression. His name became known as Keydong (The Gifted

Lad). The Governor had no other children, neither son nor daughter,

so his heart was wrapped up in this boy. On his birthday he had all

the officials invited and other special guests, who came to drink

his health. There were present also a company of dancing-girls and a

large band of musicians. The Governor, during a lull in the banquet,

called his son to him, and ordered the chief of the dancing-girls to

choose one of the prettiest of their number, that he and she might

dance together and delight the assembled guests. On hearing this,

the company, with one accord, called for Charan, as the one suited

by her talents, attainments and age to be a fitting partner for his

son. They came out and danced like fairies, graceful as the wavings

of the willow, light and airy as the swallow. All who saw them were

charmed. The Governor, too, greatly pleased, called Charan to him,

had her sit on the dais, treated her to a share in the banquet, gave

her a present of silk, and commanded that from that day forth she be

the special dancing maiden to attend upon his son.

From this birthday forth they became fast friends together. They

thought the world of each other. More than all the delightful stories

of history was their love--such as had never been seen.

The Governor's term of office was extended for six years more, and so

they remained in the north country. Finally, at the time of return, he

and his wife were in great anxiety over their son being separated from

Charan. If they were to force them to separate, they feared he would

die of a broken heart. If they took her with them, she not being his

wife, they feared for his reputation. They could not possibly decide,

so they concluded to refer the matter to the son himself. They called

him and said, "Even parents cannot decide as to the love of their son

for a maiden. What ought we to do? You love Charan so that it will be

very hard for you to part, and yet to have a dancing-girl before you

are married is not good form, and will interfere with your marriage

prospects and promotion. However, the having of a second wife is a

common custom in Korea, and one that the world recognizes. Do as you

think best in the matter." The son replied, "There is no difficulty;

when she is before my eyes, of course she is everything, but when

the time comes for me to start for home she will be like a pair of

worn shoes, set aside; so please do not be anxious."

The Governor and his wife were greatly delighted, and said he was a

"superior man" indeed.

When the time came to part Charan cried bitterly, so that those

standing by could not bear to look at her; but the son showed not the

slightest sign of emotion. Those looking on were filled with wonder at

his fortitude. Although he had already loved Charan for six years, he

had never been separated from her for a single day, so he knew not what

it meant to say Good-bye, nor did he know how it felt to be parted.

The Governor returned to Seoul to fill the office of Chief Justice,

and the son came also. After this return thoughts of love for Charan

possessed Keydong, though he never expressed them in word or manner. It

was almost the time of the Kam-see Examination. The father, therefore,

ordered his son to go with some of his friends to a neighbouring

monastery to study and prepare. They went, and one night, after

the day's work was over and all were asleep, the young man stole

out into the courtyard. It was winter, with frost and snow and a

cold, clear moon. The mountains were deep and the world was quiet,

so that the slightest sound could be heard. The young man looked

up at the moon and his thoughts were full of sorrow. He so wished

to see Charan that he could no longer control himself, and fearing

that he would lose his reason, he decided that very night to set out

for far-distant Pyong-an. He had on a fur head-dress, a thick coat,

a leather belt and a heavy pair of shoes. When he had gone less than

ten lee, however, his feet were blistered, and he had to go into a

neighbouring village and change his leather shoes for straw sandals,

and his expensive head-cover for an ordinary servant's hat. He went

thus on his way, begging as he went. He was often very hungry, and

when night came, was very, very cold. He was a rich man's son and had

always dressed in silk and eaten dainty fare, and had never in his

life walked more than a few feet from his father's door. Now there

lay before him a journey of hundreds of miles. He went stumbling along

through the snow, making but poor progress. Hungry, and frozen nearly

to death, he had never known such suffering before. His clothes were

torn and his face became worn down and blackened till he looked like

a goblin. Still on he went, little by little, day after day, till at

last, when a whole month had gone by, he reached Pyong-an.

Straight to Charan's home he went, but Charan was not there, only

her mother. She looked at him, but did not recognize him. He said he

was the former Governor's son and that out of love for Charan he had

walked five hundred lee. "Where is she?" he asked. The mother heard,

but instead of being pleased was very angry. She said, "My daughter is

now with the son of the new Governor, and I never see her at all; she

never comes home, and she has been away for two or three months. Even

though you have made this long journey there is no possible way to

meet her."

She did not invite him in, so cold was her welcome. He thought to

himself, "I came to see Charan, but she is not here. Her mother refuses

me; I cannot go back, and I cannot stay. What shall I do?" While

thus in this dilemma a plan occurred to him. There was a scribe in

Pyong-an, who, during his father's term of office, had offended,

and was sentenced to death. There were extenuating circumstances,

however, and he, when he went to pay his morning salutations, had

besought and secured his pardon. His father, out of regard for his

son's petition, had forgiven the scribe. He thought, "I was the means

of saving the man's life, he will take me in;" so he went straight

from Charan's to the house of the scribe. But at first this writer

did not recognize him. When he gave his name and told who he was, the

scribe gave a great start, and fell at his feet making obeisance. He

cleared out an inner room and made him comfortable, prepared dainty

fare and treated him with all respect.

A little later he talked over with his host the possibility of his

meeting Charan. The scribe said, "I am afraid that there is no way

for you to meet her alone, but if you would like to see even her face,

I think I can manage it. Will you consent?"

He asked as to the plan. It was this: It being now a time of snow,

daily coolies were called to sweep it away from the inner court of

the Governor's yamen, and just now the scribe was in charge of this

particular work. Said he, "If you will join the sweepers, take a

broom and go in; you will no doubt catch a glimpse of Charan as she

is said to be in the Hill Kiosk. I know of no other plan."

Keydong consented. In the early morning he mixed with the company

of sweepers and went with his broom into the inner enclosure, where

the Hill Kiosk was, and so they worked at sweeping. Just then the

Governor's son was sitting by the open window and Charan was by

him, but not visible from the outside. The other workers, being all

practised hands, swept well; Keydong alone handled his broom to no

advantage, knowing not how to sweep. The Governor's son, watching the

process, looked out and laughed, called Charan and invited her to see

this sweeper. Charan stepped out into the open hall and the sweeper

raised his eyes to see. She glanced at him but once, and but for a

moment, then turned quickly, went into the room, and shut the door,

not appearing again, to the disappointment of the sweeper, who came

back in despair to the scribe's house.

Charan was first of all a wise and highly gifted woman. One look

had told her who the sweeper was. She came back into the room and

began to cry. The Governor's son looked in surprise and displeasure,

and asked, "Why do you cry?" She did not reply at once, but after

two or three insistent demands told the reason thus: "I am a low

class woman; you are mistaken in thinking highly of me, or counting

me of worth. Already I have not been home for two whole months and

more. This is a special compliment and a high honour, and so there

is not the slightest reason for any complaint on my part. But still,

I think of my home, which is poor, and my mother. It is customary on

the anniversary of my father's death to prepare food from the official

quarters, and offer a sacrifice to his spirit, but here I am imprisoned

and to-morrow is the sacrificial day. I fear that not a single act of

devotion will be paid, I am disturbed over it, and that's why I cry."

The Governor's son was so taken in by this fair statement that he

trusted her fully and without a question. Sympathetically he asked,

"Why didn't you tell me before?" He prepared the food and told her to

hurry home and carry out the ceremony. So Charan came like flaming fire

back to her house, and said to her mother, "Keydong has come and I have

seen him. Is he not here? Tell me where he is if you know." The mother

said, "He came here, it is true, all the way on foot to see you, but

I told him that you were in the yamen and that there was no possible

way for you to meet, so he went away and where he is I know not."

Then Charan broke down and began to cry. "Oh, my mother, why had you

the heart to do so cruelly?" she sobbed. "As far as I am concerned

I can never break with him nor give him up. We were each sixteen

when chosen to dance together, and while it may be said that men

chose us, it is truer still to say that God hath chosen. We grew into

each other's lives, and there was never such love as ours. Though he

forgot and left me, I can never forget and can never give him up. The

Governor, too, called me the beloved wife of his son, and did not once

refer to my low station. He cherished me and gave me many gifts. 'Twas

all like heaven and not like earth. To the city of Pyong-an gentry and

officials gather as men crowd into a boat; I have seen so many, but

for grace and ability no one was ever like Keydong. I must find him,

and even though he casts me aside I never shall forget him. I have not

kept myself even unto death as I should have, because I have been under

the power and influence of the Governor. How could he ever have come so

far for one so low and vile? He, a gentleman of the highest birth, for

the sake of a wretched dancing-girl has endured all this hardship and

come so far. Could you not have thought, mother, of these things and

given him at least some kindly welcome? Could my heart be other than

broken?" And a great flow of tears came from Charan's eyes. She thought

and thought as to where he could possibly be. "I know of no place,"

said she, "unless it be at such and such a scribe's home." Quick as

thought she flew thence, and there they met. They clasped each other

and cried, not a word was spoken. Thus came they back to Charan's

home side by side. When it was night Charan said, "When to-morrow

comes we shall have to part. What shall we do?" They talked it over,

and agreed to make their escape that night. So Charan got together

her clothing, and her treasures and jewels, and made two bundles, and

thus, he carrying his on his back and she hers on her head, away they

went while the city slept. They followed the road that leads toward

the mountains that lie between Yang-tok and Maing-san counties. There

they found a country house, where they put up, and where the Governor's

son became a sort of better-class servant. He did not know how to do

anything well, but Charan understood weaving and sewing, and so they

lived. After some time they got a little thatched hut by themselves in

the village and lived there. Charan was a beautiful sewing-woman, and

ceased not day and night to ply her needle, and sold her treasures and

her jewels to make ends meet. Charan, too, knew how to make friends,

and was praised and loved by all the village. Everybody felt sorry

for the hard times that had befallen this mysterious young couple, and

helped them so that the days passed peacefully and happily together.

To return in the story: On awaking in the morning in the temple where

he and his friends had gone to study, they found Keydong missing. All

was in a state of confusion as to what had become of the son of the

Chief Justice. They hunted for him far and wide, but he was nowhere

to be found, so word was sent to the parents accordingly. There was

untold consternation in the home of the former governor. So great a

loss, what could equal it? They searched the country about the temple,

but no trace or shadow of him was to be found. Some said they thought

he had been inveigled away and metamorphosed by the fox; others that he

had been eaten by the tiger. The parents decided that he was dead and

went into mourning for him, burning his clothing in a sacrificial fire.

In Pyong-an the Governor's son, when he found that he had lost Charan,

had Charan's mother imprisoned and all the relatives, but after a

month or so, when the search proved futile, he gave up the matter

and let them go.

Charan, at last happy with her chosen one, said one day to him, "You,

a son of the gentry, for the sake of a dancing-girl have given up

parents and home to live in this hidden corner of the hills. It is a

matter, too, that touches your filial piety, this leaving your father

and mother in doubt as to whether you are alive or not. They ought to

know. We cannot live here all our lives, neither can we return home;

what do you think we ought to do?" Keydong made a hopeless reply. "I

am in distress," said he, "and know not."

Charan said brightly, "I have a plan by which we can cover over the

faults of the past, and win a new start for the future. By means of

it, you can serve your parents and look the world in the face. Will

you consent?"

"What do you propose?" asked he. Her reply was, "There is only one

way, and that is by means of the Official Examination. I know of no

other. You will understand what I mean, even though I do not tell

you more."

He said, "Enough, your plan is just the thing to help us out. But

how can I get hold of the books I need?"

Charan replied, "Don't be anxious about that, I'll get the books." From

that day forth she sent through all the neighbourhood for books, to be

secured at all costs; but there were few or none, it being a mountain

village. One day there came by, all unexpectedly, a pack-peddler, who

had in his bundle a book that he wished to sell. Some of the village

people wanted to buy it for wall-paper. Charan, however, secured it

first and showed it to Keydong. It was none other than a special work

for Examinations, with all the exercises written out. It was written

in small characters, and was a huge book containing several thousand

exercises. Keydong was delighted, and said, "This is enough for all

needed preparation." She bought it and gave it to him, and there he

pegged away day after day. In the night he studied by candle-light,

while she sat by his side and did silk-spinning. Thus they shared

the light together. If he showed any remissness, Charan urged him

on, and thus they worked for two years. To begin with, he, being a

highly talented scholar, made steady advancement day by day. He was

a beautiful writer and a master of the pen. His compositions, too,

were without a peer, and every indication pointed to his winning the

highest place in the Kwago (Examination).

At this time a proclamation was issued that there would be a special

examination held before His Majesty the King, so Charan made ready

the food required and all necessaries for him to go afoot to Seoul

to try his hand.

At last here he was, within the Palace enclosure. His Majesty came

out into the examination arena and posted up the subject. Keydong took

his pen and wrote his finished composition. Under the inspiration of

the moment his lines came forth like bubbling water. It was finished.

When the announcement was made as to the winner, the King ordered

the sealed name of the writer to be opened. It was, and they found

that Keydong was first. At that time his father was Prime Minister

and waiting in attendance upon the King. The King called the Prime

Minister, and said, "It looks to me as though the winner was your son,

but he writes that his father is Chief Justice and not Prime Minister;

what can that mean?" He handed the composition paper to the father,

and asked him to look and see. The Minister gazed at it in wonder,

burst into tears, and said, "It is your servant's son. Three years ago

he went with some friends to a monastery to study, but one night he

disappeared, and though I searched far and wide I have had no word of

him since. I concluded that he had been destroyed by some wild animal,

so I had a funeral service held and the house went into mourning. I

had no other children but this son only. He was greatly gifted and

I lost him in this strange way. The memory has never left me, for it

seems as though I had lost him but yesterday. Now that I look at this

paper I see indeed that it is the writing of my son. When I lost him

I was Chief Justice, and thus he records the office; but where he has

been for these three years, and how he comes now to take part in the

examination, I know not."

The King, hearing this, was greatly astonished, and at once before all

the assembled ministers had him called. Thus he came in his scholar's

dress into the presence of the King. All the officials wondered at this

summoning of a candidate before the announcement of the result. The

King asked him why he had left the monastery and where he had been

for these three years. He bowed low, and said, "I have been a very

wicked man, have left my parents, have broken all the laws of filial

devotion, and deserve condign punishment." The King replied, saying,

"There is no law of concealment before the King. I shall not condemn

you even though you are guilty; tell me all." Then he told his story to

the King. All the officials on each side bent their ears to hear. The

King sighed, and said to the father, "Your son has repented and made

amends for his fault. He has won first place and now stands as a

member of the Court. We cannot condemn him for his love for this

woman. Forgive him for all the past and give him a start for the

future." His Majesty said further, "The woman Charan, who has shared

your life in the lonely mountains, is no common woman. Her plans,

too, for your restoration were the plans of a master hand. She is

no dancing-girl, this Charan. Let no other be your lawful wife but

she only; let her be raised to equal rank with her husband, and let

her children and her children's children hold highest office in the

realm." So was Keydong honoured with the winner's crown, and so the

Prime Minister received his son back to life at the hands of the

King. The winner's cap was placed upon his head, and the whole house

was whirled into raptures of joy.

So the Minister sent forth a palanquin and servants to bring up

Charan. In a great festival of joy she was proclaimed the wife of the

Minister's son. Later he became one of Korea's first men of State,

and they lived their happy life to a good old age. They had two sons,

both graduates and men who held high office.

Im Bang.