Gantō's Sword After Huang Chao

Engo's commentary on the case

In general, to carry a travel bag and bowl, part the grass, and observe the wind, one must possess the eye of pilgrimage. This monk's eyes resembled shooting stars, yet Gantō tested him through and strung him on one skewer. At the time, if he had been a real fellow, whether killing or giving life, he would have employed it as soon as it was raised. Instead this monk, rough and careless, said, “I recovered it.” Traveling in this way, old Yama will question you and demand reimbursement for your meals. Who knows how many straw sandals he wore through before reaching Seppō? At the time, if he had possessed even a little strength in his eye, he would have known how to glimpse it. Would that not have been lively? This causal episode has joints, corners, and places of confusion. Although this matter has no gain or loss, gain and loss are extremely great. Although it has no picking and choosing, on arriving here one must possess an eye that picks and chooses. Observe Ryūge while on pilgrimage. He framed a question for Tokusan: “What is it like when this student wields the Moye sword and intends to take the Master's head?” Tokusan stretched out his neck, leaned forward, and said, “Hah!” Ryūge said, “Your head has fallen, Master.” Tokusan immediately returned to his quarters. Later Ryūge related this to Dongshan. Dongshan asked, “What did Tokusan say at the time?” Ryūge said, “He had no words.” Dongshan said, “Set aside his having no words. Lend me Tokusan's fallen head and let me see.” Beneath these words Ryūge greatly awakened. He burned incense, faced Tokusan from afar, bowed, and repented. A monk carried word of this to Tokusan. Tokusan said, “Old Dongshan does not know good from bad. How long has this fellow been dead? What use is saving him?”³ The present public case is of the same kind as Ryūge's. Tokusan returning to his quarters was most wondrous in the dark. Gantō laughed greatly; there is poison in his laughter. If anyone could discern it, they could cross freely through the world. If the monk had discerned it at the time, he would have escaped examination and blame for a thousand ages. Under Gantō's gate he had already missed once. Observe old Seppō, Gantō's fellow practitioner. He immediately knew where the matter landed. He did not explain it to the monk, but only struck him thirty times and drove him from the monastery. This can be said to illumine those before and cut off those after. This is a means of acting for people that grasps an adept patch-robed monk by the nostrils. Seppō did not tell him how or why, but made him awaken for himself. A lineage teacher of the original share, in acting for people, sometimes envelops them and does not let them stick out their heads; sometimes releases them into dead disarray, where they must nevertheless have a place to free themselves. Great old Gantō and Seppō were instead exposed by a meditation monk who merely eats meals! Consider Gantō's “After Huang Chao passed through, did you recover the sword?” Tell me: what words should have been supplied here to avoid his laugh and also avoid Seppō's staff and expulsion? There is confusion here. Unless one has personally verified and personally awakened, even with quick verbal skill one ultimately cannot break through and shed life and death. This mountain monk ordinarily teaches people to look at the place where this mechanism turns. If you deliberate, you are farther than far away. Have you not heard that Touzi asked a monk from Yanping, “After Huang Chao passed through, did you recover the sword?” The monk pointed to the ground with his hand. Touzi said, “For thirty years I have played at riding horses; today I was instead thrown by a donkey.” See this monk: he too was undeniably an adept. He neither said he recovered it nor said he did not. Compared with the monk from the Western Capital, he was separated by an ocean. Zhenru raised the case and said, “Among those ancients, one made the head and one made the tail. Settled.” Setchō's verse says: “After Huang Chao passed, the sword indeed was recovered. The great laugh should be known by an adept.” Setchō directly versifies the place of this monk and Gantō's great laugh. People throughout the world cannot get hold of this little bit. Tell me: what did Gantō laugh at? Only an adept can know. Within this laugh there is provisional and real, illumination and function, killing and giving life. “Thirty strokes of mountain vine are still light leniency.” This versifies the monk's later arrival before Seppō. The monk was reckless as before. Seppō acted according to the command, struck him thirty times, and drove him out. Tell me: why was it instead like this? Do you want to understand this story completely? Gaining an advantage is falling into disadvantage.