Tale of Ch’unhyang

F ormerly there lived in the province of Cholla, in the town of Namwon, a magistrate's son
named Yi Mong-Yong. He had much literary talent, and grew up to be a handsome young man.

One beautiful morning, Master Yi Mong-Yong called his servant, Pangja, and asked him to show
him a place where he might see wild flowers. Pangja led him to a summer pavilion near a bridge called
"Ojak-kyo," or the "Magpie Bridge." The view from the bridge was as beautiful as the summer sky, and
thus was named after the tale of the Herdboy and the Weaving Maid.

Looking at the distant mountains, Yi Mong-Yong caught sight of a young maiden swinging
beneath one of the trees. He asked Pangja about the lovely maiden and her attendant. He replied that
she was Ch'unhyang (Spring Fragrance), a daughter of Wolmae (Moon Plum), the retired kisaeng
entertainer. Pangja related to his young master that this young girl was not only beautiful but also
virtuous. Yi Mong-Yong insisted that Pangja inform Ch'unhyang that he wished to meet her. "Don't you
know the butterfly must pursue the flower, and the geese must seek the sea?" retorted Ch'unhyang.

The wind blew back her hair and long ribbon over her rosy face, and she glowed with virtue and
happiness. "This good fortune is offered me today. Why wait until tomorrow? Should I not speak to this
pretty girl now?" Yi Mong-Yong said to himself. Just then Ch'unhyang, frightened at being watched,
jumped down from her swing and ran toward her house. Stopping under a peach tree at her garden gate
she plucked a blossom and kissed it, her lips and cheeks redder than the bloom, and was gone.

Pangja urged his master to hasten home so that his father might know nothing of his adventure,
and then punish Pangja for allowing Yi Mong-Yong to wander so far. The youth returned home in a
trance, and went immediately to sit at dinner with his parents. With the meal finished, Yi Mong-Yong
went to his room, lit a candle, and opened a book. Reading proved impossible. The words blurred before
his eyes and every word and every character was "Spring" and "Fragrance"- Ch'unhyang, Ch'unhyang,
Ch'unhyang. Calling Pangja, he said, "Tonight I must see Ch'unhyang. Did she not say that the butterfly
must pursue the flower?"

They went to Ch'unhyang's house, stopping under the peach tree in the garden as they
approached. At that moment Ch'unhyang's mother was telling her daughter that she had had a dream in
which a blue dragon coiled itself around Ch'unhyang's body and, holding her in its mouth, flew up to the
sky. Looking up, instead of the dragon in the clouds, the girl's mother saw a dragon on earth, for Yi
Mong-Yong walked out of darkness and spoke to her.

On learning the purpose of his visit she called Ch'unhyang to meet the young yangban, and Yi
Mong-Yong asked Ch'unhyang's mother for the hand of her daughter. The old woman, thinking her
dream had come true, gladly consented, and said, "You are a yangban's son and Ch'unhyang is the
daughter of a kisaeng, so there cannot be a formal marriage. If you give us a secret marriage contract,
writing your pledge not to desert her, we shall be contented."

Yi Mong-Yong seized a brush and set down the following lines: "The blue sea may become a
mulberry field, and the mulberry fields may become the blue sea, but my heart for Ch'unhyang shall
never change. Heaven and earth and all the gods are witnesses." In their sleep that night they dreamed
of Mandarin ducks swimming together. For several nights he visited his beloved, until she teased him,
saying that he should go home and study hard to become a great official like his father. Unfortunately,
their time together did not last.

Not long after the secret marriage, the servant brought Yi Mong-Yong a message saying that his
father, newly appointed to the King's cabinet, was being recalled to the capitol. Yi Mong-Yong, who was
to accompany his father, went that evening to Ch'unhyang and told her the bad news. The young couple
was forced to say a tearful goodbye at the Magpie Bridge. "Since there is no way to change our fate, let
us embrace and part," said Ch'unhyang, throwing her arms around her lover.
 She then gave him a ring. "This is my token of love for you. Keep it until we meet again. Go in
peace, but do not forget me. I shall remain faithful to you and wait here for you to come and take me
away to Seoul." With these words, they parted.The new Namwon magistrate arrived soon afterward,
and among his first words to his servant were, "Bring me Ch'unhyang, the pretty girl I have heard of."
"This is difficult sir," replied the retainer, "for she is already married secretly to Yi MongYong,
the son of the former magistrate." Angered, the new magistrate ordered Ch'unhyang summoned at
once. Too terrified to disobey an order by the magistrate, Ch'unhyang accompanied the servant. The
magistrate looked at her attentively. "I heard much of you in Seoul, and today I see you are very
beautiful. Will you come to me?"

Choosing her words carefully, Ch'unhyang replied, "I am committed to Yi Mong-Yong. That is
why I cannot do as you ask. The King has sent you here to take care of the people. You have a heavy
responsibility to the throne. It would be better to fulfill your duties and apply justice according to the
laws of the country." Ch'unhyang's defiance enraged the magistrate, and he ordered her taken to prison.
"Why put me in prison?" Ch'unhyang protested, "I have done no wrong. A married woman must be
faithful to her husband, just as a magistrate should be faithful to the king." This merely served to anger
the magistrate further, and before long Ch'unhyang found herself in a prison cell.

Meanwhile, Yi Mong-Yong had arrived in Seoul, where he studied hard and learned all the
famous Chinese classics. He passed the government examinations with the highest distinction, thereby
qualifying for a position in the king's service. In congratulating him after the munkwa examinations, the
king asked Yi Mong-Yong. "Do you wish to be a magistrate or a governor?"

"I should like to be appointed amhaengosa," replied Yi Mong-Yong. Yi Mong-Yong, as an

amhaengosa, traveled around the country with his attendants, disguised as beggars. They inquired
everywhere after the needs of the people in order to assess the quality of local districts' administrations.
Soon he arrived near Namwon, and came to a small farming village where the people were planting rice.
While working, the peasants sadly chanted: "We come out in the scorching heat, plough our
fields, sow our seeds, and make the rice grow. First we must pay tribute to the king, give a part to the
poor, a part to travelers who come knocking at our doors, and save money for ancestral services. This
would be all right if the magistrate did not squeeze us for even more, leaving us with hardly anything to
eat."

Much interested, Yi Mong-Yong approached and said, "I have heard that the magistrate of
Namwon has married Ch'unhyang and that they live together happily."

"How dare you speak like that?" retorted one of farmers. "Ch'unhyang is faithful, true and pure,
and you are a fool to speak thus of her and that tyrant, who is cruel to her. No, her fate is even worse
than that because the son of the former magistrate seduced and deflowered that poor girl, and then
abandoned her, never coming back to see her. He is a bastard, the son of a dog, the son of a pig!"

The farmer's anger shocked Yi Mong-Yong. He found that many villagers felt the same way. The
local yangban aristocrats shared the people's wrath. Yi Mong-Yong happened on a spot where some
yangban were having a picnic, comparing poems and conversing on a hillside. He listened as a scholar
presented a poem railing against the unjust provincial government. When he was done, another
picnicker said, "These are sad days! I've heard that a young woman called Ch'unhyang is to be executed
in two or three days."

"Oh! This Magistrate is a wretch!" said another. "He is thinking only of overpowering
Ch'unhyang, but she is like the pine and bamboo, which never change. She has remained faithful and
true to her husband."

Another added, "She was married to the son of the old magistrate. What a pig her husband is!
He abandoned the poor girl." These comments made Yi Mong-Yong, weary and ashamed, hasten to
Namwon. hasten to Namwon.
 Meanwhile, Ch'unhyang, in prison all this time, remained faithful to the memory of Yi Mong-
Yong. She had grown thin, feeble, and sick. One day she had a dream, in which she saw her house. In her
garden, the flowers that she had planted and loved had faded. The mirror in her room was broken. Her
shoes were hanging on the lintel of the door. She called to a blind man who happened to be passing by
her cell window, and asked him the significance of her dream.

"I shall tell you what it means. These dried flowers shall bear fruit, the noise of the broken
mirror will be heard throughout the world, and the shoes on the door indicate a large crowd visiting to
offer congratulations." Ch'unhyang thanked the blind man and prayed that his prophecy would come
true. In reality, however, Ch'unhyang's doom was near. That very day the evil magistrate called his
attendants together and said to them, "In three days I shall celebrate a great feast, to which I wish to
invite all the magistrates of the nearby towns, and on that day Ch'unhyang shall be executed.

"Meanwhile, Yi Mong-Yong arrived in the town and went to Ch'unhyang's house. At first, her
mother did not recognize him. "I do not know who you are," she said. "Your face reminds me of Yi
Mong-Yong, but your clothes are the clothes of a beggar." "But I am Yi Mong-Yong," said he. "Oh!" she
gasped. "Every day we have waited for you, but alas, in two or three days Ch'unhyang will be dead."

"Listen to me, Mother," replied Yi Mong-Yong. "Even though I am a miserable beggar, I still long
for Ch'unhyang, and I want to see her. "With Yi Mong-Yong following, she knocked at the prison
window, calling her daughter, who was asleep. Awakened, Ch'unhyang asked immediately if anyone had
seen Yi MongYong or heard news of him. The mother replied that in place of Yi Mong-Yong, a beggar
had come who claimed he was Yi Mong-Yong, and was there now to see her. Yi Mong-Yong appeared at
the window, and Ch'unhyanglooked at him. It seemed to make no difference to her that he was badly
dressed, and seemed to have failed at life in Seoul. Instead, she reached for him through the bars and
struggled to be as close to him as possible.

"I may be a beggar in dress," replied Yi Mong-Yong, "but I have no beggar's heart!" "Dear heart,"
said Ch'unhyang, "how hard your journey must have been. Go back with my mother and get some rest.
Only please - since I am under a sentence of death and must die tomorrow after the feast - come to my
window again in the morning so I may have the joy of seeing you once more before I die." Yi Mong-Yong
went home and slept in Ch'unhyang's room. But the next morning, when his mother-in-law opened the
door, she was surprised to find that he was gone. In fact, he had gone early to collect his attendants, all
disguised as beggars like himself. He gave them strict orders.

Then, as the magistrate received his guests and presided over the banquet, Yi Mong-Yong
managed to get into the palatial office compound and approach the host. "I am a poor man," he said,
"and I am hungry. Please, give me something to eat." It was customary in Korea, during big feasts in the
countryside, for a number of beggars to show up for handouts, but the furious magistrate commanded
his servants to kick the intruder out. Then Yi Mong-Yong entered the palace a second time, by climbing
on the shoulders of his servants and going over the wall. The first guest he encountered was the
magistrate of Unbong, named Pak Yong-Jang. He said to him, "I am hungry, could you not let me have
something?"

Yong-Jang, feeling some compassion called one of the kisaengs and asked her to bring
something to the beggar. Yi Mong-Yong then addressed Yong-Jang: "I am obliged to you for giving me
good food, and I wish to repay you with a little poem." Then he extended a paper on which YongJang
read the lines:

This beautiful wine in golden goblets

Is the blood of a thousand people.
This magnificent meat on these jade tables
s the flesh and marrow of a thousand lives.
Burning in this banquet hall,
 The tears of the hungry people
Pour from their sunken eyes.
Even louder than the noisy song of these courtesans
Resound the complaints of the oppressed peasants.

Yong-Jang , greatly alarmed, cried, "It is against us," and he passed the paper to the host, who
asked, "Who wrote this poem?" "It is the young beggar," said Yong-Jang, pointing to Yi Mong-Yong, but
he was frightened, thinking that whoever wrote such a poem must be more than a common beggar.
Rising up, he suddenly pretended to have urgent business elsewhere and fled. The other officials
likewise sprang to their feet and stampeded out of the room, only to be stopped by Yi Mong-Yong's
men, who were waiting outside with their swords. The officials soon understood that the beggar-poet
was in fact an amhaengosa.
As they cowered together in a corner of the courtyard, Yi Mong-Yong revealed his ma-p'ae and
ordered the magistrate's runners to fetch Ch'unhyang from her cell and to say to her, "The King's envoy
has sent for you. He is going to hear your case and pronounce judgment. "In the jail, Ch'unhyang was
greatly frightened. "Oh!" she cried. "I am going to die! Please, may I see my mother?" Ch'unhyang's
mother ran to her daughter.
"Mother, now is the hour of my death. Where is Yi MongYong?" "The King's officer is waiting. Do
not stop to chitchat!" snapped the runners, and before Ch'unhyang's mother could speak, they carried
her away to the magistrate's courtyard. They removed the wooden cangue from around her neck and
placed her in the presence of the Royal Secret Inspector, who, sitting behind a screen, questioned her
sternly: "If you do not love the magistrate, will you love me and come to me, the King's envoy? If you
refuse I shall order my men to strike off your head immediately."
"Alas!" exclaimed Ch'unhyang. "How unhappy are the poor people of this country! First the
injustice of the magistrate, then you, the King's Inspector, who should help and protect the unhappy
people - you think immediately to condemn to death a poor girl whom you desire. Oh, how sad we
common people are, and how pitiful it is to be a woman!" Yi Mong-Yong then ordered the courtesans to
untie the cords that bound the hands of Ch'unhyang.
"Now raise your head, and look at me," he said to her. "No," she answered, "I shall not look at
you, I shall not listen to you. Cut my body into pieces if you like, but I shall never go to you." Yi Mong-
Yong was deeply touched. He took off his ring and ordered a courtesan to show it to Ch'unhyang. She
saw that was the very ring she had given to her husband Yi Mong-Yong and, lifting her eyes, recognized
her lover. "Oh," she cried in joy and surprise. "Yesterday my lover was only a beggar and today he is the
King's officer!"
Yi Mong-Yong ordered a sedan chair to be brought at once and saw that Ch'unhyang was safely
carried home. The people shouted joyfully and cheered for Ch'unhyang and Yi Mong-Yong. Then he
summoned the magistrate of Namwon and said, "The King gave you instructions to feed the people well,
and instead you fed upon them. I condemn you in the name of the King to forfeit your position. I banish
you to a faraway island without meat, without wine, and without company. I give you permission to eat
the wild grass till your stomach repents for the way you have fed off the people of Namwon!"
When all this was done, Yi Mong-Yong took his bride back to Seoul and wrote out the story
Ch'unhyang as an appendix to his official report. The King read it and was surprised to find such fidelity
in a country girl of low birth. He made her ach'ungnyolpuin, or a faithful wife, and declared that her
loyalty was proof that she was just as good as any yangban daughter, even though her mother was a
lowly kisaeng, and that her conduct should be a model for allwomen.
Ch'unhyang was then officially presented to the parents of Yi Mong-Yong, and they accepted her
as a proper daughter-in-law. In time, Ch'unhyang bore three sons and two daughters, and they all lived
happily for many years come.
Activity 3: THE KOREAN STYLE! A GLIMPSE TO KOREAN CULTURE
Reading an article titled Beliefs, Social Structures, and Practices allows you to have a glimpse of the
Koreans’ rich culture and history that will eventually help you appreciate and understand better the
Korean psyche and temperament that is reflected in their rich literary pieces. Read the short article
below.
Beliefs, Social Structures, and Practices

The Choson Dynasty, also known as the Yi Dynasty, has long been celebrated for its artistic,
scientific and intellectual achievements, including the 1443 invention of the Korean alphabet (han'gul)
by the greatest of all Choson kings, King Sejong. The Choson Dynasty, which means the kingdom of
morning serenity, is one of modern history's longest dynastic rules, lasting over 500 years. This
achievement is even more impressive in light of Korea’s strategic and, some might say, precarious
geopolitical location at the center of the East Asian corridor.

How did Korea achieve such political stability? What social forces were at work? The Choson
Dynasty adopted Confucianism as its state religion and developed concomitant social structures,
ultimately establishing cultural values, which supported continuous dynastic rule.

These cultural values of the Choson Dynasty, centerpieces to the Ch'unhyang story, still resonant
in contemporary Korean life. The idea of an interdependent, collective self rather than an independent,
autonomous self, of role dedication rather than self-fulfillment, and the privileging of harmony and
order rather over justice or progress are all typically Confucian cultural values that have carried over
from the Choson era into the present.

Choson Dynasty officially began in 1392 when Yi Songgye, an army general, was declared king,
following his successful coup against the Koryo government. With the support of Neo-Confucian
scholar-officials, he and the twenty-six Yi kings that followed him adopted and enforced the principles of
Confucianism, a belief system founded by the Chinese philosopher Confucius, as the for guide their
actions as well as virtually every citizen of their dynasty.

Confucius taught that men of wisdom and virtue, chosen for their knowledge and moral quality,
should lead the government. They were to rule, not by force or law, but by example. This theory of
government was an ideal held for centuries by many countries of East Asia; the application of the
theory, however, was less than ideal. Korean rulers during the Chosen reign established social structures
and institutions to enforce Confucian ideology and practice.

King T’aejo (Yi Songgye) instituted the Chinese examination system to recruit wise and moral
men into government. Men that could demonstrate through rigorous examination that they understood
proper governance, classic literature, and morality, as it was taught in the sacred books of Confucian
philosophy, were appointed to government positions. Once in place, they were expected to lead by
moral example.

PROCESS QUESTIONS:

1. What is with Koreans that makes them strong in responding to the challenges of modernity?
2. Do you think they are stronger than the Filipinos? Why or why not?
3. What do Koreans have that we Filipinos should emulate?