22
Tai Chin-shêng, in a worn gown and cap, went to see the King
of Liang, who said, "Some time ago I invited you [to serve me]
with the salary of a Great Officer of upper rank, but you would
not stay. And now you have come to me?"
Tai Chin-shêng laughed merrily, then looking up with a long
sigh, he said, "Alas, from this I see that Your Highness has never
been worth associating with. Have you not seen the pheasant in
a large marsh?[1]
Every five steps he pecks [at the ground], and
only at the end of the day is he full. His feathers are rich and
glossy,[2]
glistening and shining under the sun and moon. He flaps
his wings and sings arrogantly, so that the sound echoes from
the hills and through the marsh. Why does he do so? Because
he enjoys what he wants. If you take him away and put him
inside a granary, so that he is constantly pecking up millet, he
will be full before the sun is up. But his feathers will be dull and
bedraggled, and his appetite and ch`i increasingly decline. He
hangs his head and does not sing. Is it possibly because his food
is not good? It is because he has not what he wants. Now when
I have not counted it far to come a thousand li[3]
to be with Your
Highness, was it possibly because [otherwise] my food would have
been insufficient? It was simply because I ventured to admire
your principles. I used to think you were fond of gentlemen, and
without a peer in the empire. Now I clearly see that you are not
fond of gentlemen." Taking his leave he departed, and never
came back again.
