Seppō as Rice Cook

Banshō's commentary on the case

Seppō lowered his head and returned to his hermitage; Tokusan immediately returned to his quarters. These are especially worth investigating in detail. Gantō privately disclosed his intent. You tell me: what did he say? Tokusan again stopped and went away. It may be said: Meeting, they do not bring it out; once the intent is raised, each knows it is there. When Tokusan ascended the hall the next day, he was indeed different from usual. This too was taking an error and accommodating it with an error. Gantō went down in front of the monks' hall, clapped his hands, laughed loudly, and said, “How glad I am that the old fellow understands the final phrase! Hereafter no one in the world will be able to do anything with him.” Take particular care not to cover it over. Even so, Tokusan got only three years. Tokusan did in fact pass away three years later. Tianjue versified: Bell and drum were silent; carrying his bowl, he returned. Gantō's single press was a word like thunder. Sure enough, he lived for only three years— could he have received a prediction from Gantō?² Banshō says: I know the underside of your quilt is worn through; we once slept in the same bed. Myōshō, speaking for Tokusan, said, “Tsk, tsk! Nowhere to go! Nowhere to go!” Banshō says: His nose is in someone else's hand. Setchō said, “I had heard of a one-eyed dragon; it turns out he possessed only one eye. Little did he know Tokusan was a toothless tiger. If Gantō had not seen through him, how could the next day have differed from the previous one?”⁶ All of you—do you want to understand the final phrase? Allow only the old Hu to know it; do not allow the old Hu to understand it. Half covered and half concealed, it leaks out—yet he does not know.³ Zhe of Dawei said, “Gantō greatly resembles a rock splitting on a high mountain, making wild animals for a hundred li hide their tracks. If Tokusan's measure and capacity had not been profoundly clear, how could yesterday and today have differed?” Banshō says: The toothless tiger's claws and spurs remain. Whenever Roso saw a monk coming, he immediately faced the wall. Hearing of this, Nansen said, “I ordinarily tell him, ‘Take responsibility before the empty eon; understand before a Buddha appears in the world.’ Even then I do not get one-half of a person. Acting like this, he will get one in the Year of the Donkey—that is, never.” If you recognize Nansen, you immediately see Gantō and can walk arm in arm with Tendō. The final phrase is like this. It is difficult to clarify. Though Tokusan was severe and unyielding and Gantō outstandingly gifted, down to the present they cannot sort it out and make it clear. Have you not heard it said: Getting the body out may still be easy; to speak it with the whole body must be hard. Zheng Gu's poem says: Flower-and-moon towers stand near the nine avenues; one clear song overturns the golden winepot. In the gathering there is also a guest from Jiangnan; do not sing of the partridge in the spring wind.⁴ Tendō uses the last two lines with the intent that there is no need to raise it again. What happens after it is raised? The teacher descended from the seat and immediately returned to his quarters.