← Back to 漢書

卷八十 宣元六王傳

Volume 80: The six sons of Emperors Xuan and Yuan

Chapter 91 of 漢書 ✓ Translated
← Previous Chapter
Chapter 91
Next Chapter →
1
Volume 80: Biographies of the Six Princes of Emperors Xuan and Yuan (no. 50).
2
Emperor Xuan had five sons.
3
Emperor Xuan had five sons. Empress Xu gave birth to Emperor Yuan. Lady Zhang the Honored Lady bore Prince Xian of Huaiyang, Qin; Lady Wei the Honored Lady bore Prince Xiao of Chu, Xiao; Lady Gongsun the Honored Lady bore Prince Si of Dongping, Yu; and Lady Rong the Honored Lady bore Prince Ai of Zhongshan, Jing.
4
Prince Xian of Huaiyang, Qin
5
Prince Xian of Huaiyang, Qin, was established in the third year of Yuankang (65 BCE). His mother, Lady Zhang the Honored Lady, enjoyed Emperor Xuan’s favor. After Empress Huo was cast aside, the emperor meant to raise Lady Zhang to empress. In time, mindful of how the Huo family had tried to harm the crown prince, he looked elsewhere among his childless, cautious consorts and made Lady Wang of Changling empress, charging her with raising the heir. The new empress soon lost his attention and seldom saw him; Lady Zhang alone remained his favorite. As the Prince of Huaiyang came of age, he took to the classics and law, proved quick and capable, and won the emperor’s deep affection. The crown prince was mild and humane and loved Confucian scholarship; the emperor would sigh over Prince Xian and tell his attendants, “Now that is my son!” He often toyed with making Lady Zhang and the prince his succession, yet the crown prince had come up from nothing: as a young man the emperor had leaned on the Xu clan, and after his accession Empress Xu had been executed, leaving the boy motherless—so he could not bring himself to replace him. Years later he recalled how Wei Xuancheng, son of the former chancellor Wei Xian, had played mad to yield his noble title to an elder brother—learned in the classics and renowned for integrity—and summoned him to serve as commandant in Huaiyang, hoping such an example of deference would steady the ambitious prince and quiet the succession. When Xuan died and Yuan ascended, the new emperor sent Prince Qin to his fief at Huaiyang.
6
使
By then Lady Zhang was dead. The prince still had kin on his mother’s side: each year his uncles Zhang Bo and his two brothers visited Huaiyang and went home laden with the king’s largesse. Later the prince petitioned to bring his mother’s Zhang relatives to live in his state. Bo memorialized that he wished to stay behind to tend the family graves and not relocate. The prince nursed a grudge against him. When Bo next arrived in Huaiyang, the king’s gifts were stingy. Bo said, “I am several million cash in debt; I need the king to cover it.” The king refused. As Bo left, he told his younger brother Guang to worry the king with word that his lordship was growing cold toward his elders and that Bo meant to memorialize for permission to retire—unless something changed. The prince then dispatched an agent with fifty jin of gold for Bo. Bo was delighted and wrote back in fulsome praise, adding, “The court today is bereft of good men; portents and disasters pile up—it is enough to freeze one’s blood. The people are looking to you, my lord—how can you sit idle and not press for an audience to steady the throne?” He had Guang keep pressing the prince to follow his scheme and let Bo lobby the great men at Chang’an who held the levers of power. The prince would not heed him.
7
使 西 使 使 西 使
When Guang later prepared to leave for Chang’an, he again assured the king, “Bo and I will do everything we can to win you a summons. Once you reach the capital, the Marquis of Pingyang can open the door for you.” Guang carried the prince’s agreement to Bo by fast courier. Bo saw the hook take and wrote again: “I have presumed on our kinship and offered counsel again and again, yet you have never truly weighed it. I have ridden through Yan and Zhao seeking hidden worthies and learned of Master Si in Qi, master of the Sima fa—true material for a grand captain. I gained an audience and, when the moment allowed, pressed him on the deepest doctrine of the Five Emperors and Three Kings—insights this world seldom hears. The frontier is unquiet and the empire roiled; without such a man there may be no peace. They say another sage lives by the northern sea, unequalled for generations though nearly impossible to draw out. To present both to the throne would be no small service. I would ride west tomorrow to serve the dynasty in its straits, but I lack the gold to open the right doors. The king of Zhao sent wine, oxen, and thirty jin of gold; Bo declined them; he then offered a daughter in marriage with two hundred jin as bride-price, and Bo still hesitated. Then your letter arrived, my lord, saying you had sent Guang west to join me in pressing for your audience. I thought myself forgotten; I never dreamed you would honor me again and bind me with such kindness. I would lay down my life to repay it. The audience itself is the least of it! If my lord will only breathe a word of consent, I will spend my last breath as Tang and Yu did to build great deeds. Master Si’s library holds every text under heaven; tell me your interests and I will lay the right volumes before you at once.” The prince was delighted and answered: “Zi Gao, you bend down to pity me, speak from the heart, offer wise counsel and weighty truth—dull though I am, how could I fail to grasp your meaning? I have ordered my officers to settle your two-million debt this day.”
8
婿 鹿 耀 滿調 便
Bo’s son-in-law Jing Fang had won favor by expounding the Book of Changes and yin–yang theory and was repeatedly called to advise the throne. He complained that Shi Xian and Wulu Chongzong had blocked him and that none of his policies were adopted, and he poured this out to Bo again and again. Bo meant to dazzle the Prince of Huaiyang, so he copied every tale Fang had told of portents and palace secrets and presented them as proof, lying that he had already secured Shi Xian’s promise of an audience for five hundred jin of gold. The sages weighed outcomes, not price tags. When Yu tamed the flood, the people wore themselves to the bone, yet once the work was done, countless ages lived by it. They say you are not yet forty, yet your hair and teeth fail, the heir is a child, favorites run the court, heaven and earth are out of tune, and plague and famine have carried off perhaps half the realm—no less dire than Yu’s deluge. You mean to save the age, my lord—set that deed beside a few hundred jin of gold. I have lined up learned men to draft a memorial on peril and portent; when you face the throne, speak the heart of it aloud, then hand up the text, and the Son of Heaven will be overjoyed. Success would give you the stature of the Duke of Zhou and the Duke of Shao, sweep the sycophants from power, and turn every minister’s coat—while the favor now lavished on Liang and Zhao would fall to you and your wife’s clan. Why haggle over gold?” The prince wrote back gladly: “When the edict lately barred princes from audience, I was at a loss. You have Yan Hui’s and Ran Boniu’s gifts, Zang Wuzhong’s wit, Zigong’s tongue, and Bian Zhuangzi’s nerve—four virtues seldom met in one man. You have opened the way; see it through with me. Seeking an audience is a matter of right—how can we buy it with money!” Bo answered, “I have given Shi my word—we need the gold to finish this.” The prince handed over five hundred jin of gold.
9
詿 駿 駿
Then Jing Fang was posted away from court, and Shi Xian laid the whole intrigue before the emperor. Fang had divulged palace secrets; Bo and his brothers had led a prince astray and defamed the state—charges of wicked irreverence—and all were clapped in jail. Officials asked to arrest Prince Qin; the emperor relented and sent Grandee Remonstrant Wang Jun with a sealed edict: “The Son of Heaven addresses the King of Huaiyang. They say your uncle Zhang Bo wrote you again and again, attacking policy, mocking the throne, praising other kings, and invoking the ancient sages only to seduce you—language foul enough to count as treason. You never denounced him yet showered him with gold and answered in honeyed words—guilt that admits no pardon. I shrink from hearing it and grieve for you. Trace the evil to its source and it begins with Bo alone; your own heart was never that of a traitor. I have told my officers not to proceed against you and sent Grandee Remonstrant Jun to make my meaning plain. Does not the Classic of Poetry say, “Quiet and reverent in your place; keep company with the upright”? Strive to live by that, my cousin!”
10
駿 使
Wang Jun explained: “Ritual sets how kings attend court—to harmonize conduct with the Way and honor the Son of Heaven. Have you not read the Odes yourself? It says, “They made him marquis in Lu, a pillar for the house of Zhou.” Yet your uncle Bo wrote you repeatedly with treasonous counsel. You have received the imperial charge, you know the classics, and you know a king’s name must not cross his borders. The emperor’s grace covers all; his virtue fills the court—yet you swallowed Bo’s plots, paid him in gold, and wrote back as if in league. Nothing is more disloyal. By precedent a prince who sins at the capital, whether the fault is great or small, faces exile or stripping of rank if not the axe—never a simple shrug. Yet he forgives you, pities you for forgetting who you are under Bo’s spell, and adds this personal edict and an envoy’s voice—measure that kindness if you can. Bo’s crimes are monstrous; every minister condemns them and the law cannot spare them. From this day do not let Bo trouble your thoughts again; join the world in casting him off. The Spring and Autumn Annals teach that even grave fault may be redeemed by change. The Changes speaks of laying white rushes beneath an offering—no blame—meaning a son of the house may cleanse himself, turn anew, and serve his lord without fault. Guard your every step; think how to mend your ways, meet this mercy, and silence heavier blame. Do that, and you keep rank and fortune, and the state altars stand firm.”
11
使
Prince Qin doffed his cap and kowtowed: “I have disgraced my charge as a bulwark; my crimes lie bare. You would not punish me but sent envoys to teach the duty of a vassal. Bo’s guilt is the deeper and deserves death. I, Qin, will devote myself anew to obeying your command. I kowtow for a crime worthy of death.”
12
Jing Fang and Zhang Bo’s brothers were executed in the marketplace; their families were banished to the frontier.
13
He died in the thirty-sixth year of his reign. His son Prince Wen, Xuan, succeeded and died in the twenty-sixth year of his reign. His son Yan inherited the title; the line ended under Wang Mang.
14
Prince Xiao of Chu, Xiao
15
Earlier, under Emperor Cheng, Jing—Yu’s younger brother—had been made king of Dingtao. The marquis of Guangqi, Xun, died with the posthumous title Yang; his son Xian succeeded. When Emperor Ping died childless, Wang Mang set Xian’s son Ying on the throne as the infant heir to carry on Ping’s line. When Mang seized the throne he demoted Ying to duke of Ding’an. After Han destroyed Wang Mang, Ying was still in Chang’an under the Gengshi regime. Fang Wang of Pingling and others, versed in the stars, believed Gengshi would fall and that Ying was the rightful heir; they rose in arms, escorted him to Linjing, and proclaimed him emperor. Gengshi’s chancellor Li Song crushed the rising and killed Ying, or so the record runs.
16
Prince Si of Dongping, Yu
17
Prince Si of Dongping, Yu, was enfeoffed in the second year of Ganlu (52 BCE). When Yuan became emperor, Yu proceeded to his fief. Once grown, he fornicated and broke the law; the emperor spared him as kin, but his tutor and minister paid for it with their posts.
18
In time he and the empress dowager fell out; she memorialized the throne and asked leave to retire to tend the Du imperial tombs. The emperor then sent Palace Grandee Zhang Zijiao with a sealed edict: “The Son of Heaven addresses the king of Dongping. They say nothing binds kin like filial piety, nothing honors the throne like loyalty: a prince must curb pride to show filial duty, watch his bounds to await the emperor’s will—only then does fortune stay with him and the state remain secure. Word reaches me that your conduct has slipped, harmony with the court has failed, rumor runs wild, and slander rises under your own roof—I am deeply troubled and afraid for you. Does not the Classic of Poetry say? “Think not only of your forbears; carry forward their virtue; ever match Heaven’s mandate; win blessing by your own deeds.” You are in the prime of life yet careless of virtue; you brush aside good counsel. I send Grandee Zijiao ahead of me to make my mind plain. Confucius said, “A fault uncorrected is a true fault.” Reflect long and hard, my cousin, and do not set yourself against my will.”
19
使 使
He also sent a personal edict to the king’s mother: “I charge the chief of household attendants to greet the queen mother of Dongping. I have heard certain things; the queen mother should weigh them carefully. Nothing opens the door to blessing like concord at home; nothing breeds disaster like a split between mother and son. The king left the cradle for a throne; he is young, barely schooled, and treats his officers with contempt while slighting his mother—only a sage could thread that needle without fault. The tradition runs, “A father shields a son’s faults, and therein lies justice.” Queen mother, read this meaning clearly and leave no corner unexamined. Within the women’s quarters, between mother and child, one flesh and blood—how can you cast that bond aside? You must not neglect it! The Duke of Zhou warned Bo Qin: “Do not cast off old friends without grave cause; do not ask perfection of any single man.” For old friends’ sake we forgive small slips—how much more between mother and son! I have sent envoys to the king; he admits fault. Forgive him, madam, and he will not dare repeat it. Eat for strength, madam, set worry aside, guard your health, and cherish yourself.”
20
使
Yu was stricken with shame and fear; through the envoy he kowtowed for a capital crime and vowed to cleanse his heart and mend his ways. Another edict told tutor and minister: “Every man is born with the five constant virtues, yet age and appetite pull him off course until desire corrupts nature and gain drowns duty—none who so drift keep their house intact. The king is young, strong, and lightly taught, with narrow experience. Henceforth, if anyone leads him hunting or down unorthodox paths outside the Five Classics, report that man’s name at once.”
21
使 使
Twenty years after Yu took the throne, Yuan died. Yu told the usher Xin and others, “The great ministers think the boy emperor too weak to rule and, because I know the statutes, mean to set me at his elbow. I have watched the masters of writing toil day and night—I could never bear that office. The weather is stifling, the throne is young, and when the court goes into mourning it may have no pillar—I could step into the breach!” When the death edict arrived, Yu wept three times for show, then feasted with wine and meat while his women never left his couch. A former favorite, the concubine Qu Nai, had been cast aside; she sighed to heaven again and again. Yu heard it, reduced her to menial rank, put her to sweeping the palace lane, and beat her repeatedly. She drafted a secret catalogue of his misdeeds and had kin report them upstream. When Yu found out, he strangled her. Officials asked for his arrest; the emperor instead stripped two counties—Fan and Kangfu—from his fief. Three years later the emperor told his officers: “Kindness begins with kin—that was the way of the ancients. When Dongping erred before, some urged me to depose him; I could not. Others asked to shave his domain; I would not act unilaterally. Yet you are bone of my bone—I have not forgotten you. Word comes that you have mended your ways, take the classics seriously, keep company with good men, and no longer let sharp clerks peddle illicit favors—I applaud that. Does not the tradition say? Wrong at dawn and right by dusk wins the gentleman’s praise. Restore the counties I once took away.”
22
The following year he attended court and asked for the “masters” compendia and Sima Qian’s history. The emperor consulted Wang Feng, who answered, “When kings come to audience they are to polish their style and law, not to chatter outside ritual. Dongping should be tightening his belt, not courting danger by begging for books—that is not what a court visit is for. Some of those miscellanies subvert the classics and fall short of the sages; others retail ghosts, omens, and the uncanny; The Grand Scribe’s Records holds Warring States intrigue, founding conspiracies, astrology, disaster lore, and maps of strategic ground—none of it fit for a feudal king’s library. They must not be granted. Your refusal should read: “The Five Classics, fashioned by the sages, hold everything worth knowing. If my cousin loves the Way, his tutors are Ru scholars who can drill him dawn to dusk until mind and conduct are straight. Small cleverness breaks the great pattern; side paths lead nowhere—fixing on them only mires the traveler. Whatever serves the classics, I do not withhold from you.” The emperor accepted Feng’s memorial and denied the books.
23
使 宿
He reigned thirty-three years and died; his son Yun, posthumously Yang, succeeded. In Emperor Ai’s reign soil at Wuyan’s Danger Mountain heaved up over the turf in the shape of an imperial causeway, and a boulder at Gourd Mountain rolled upright. Yun and Queen Ye visited the omens, set up a stone like the one at Gourd Mountain, bound paired stalks of grass, and offered joint sacrifice. In Jianping 3, Xi Fu Gong, Sun Chong, and others denounced them through the favorite Dong Xian. Ai was ill and ill-tempered; officers jailed king and queen and proved they had set shamans Fu Gong and the slave girl Hehuan cursing the throne so Yun might become Son of Heaven. Yun and omen-readers such as Gao Shang traced the stars, swearing the emperor would not recover and the mandate would fall to Yun. The standing stone had been the omen of Emperor Xuan’s ascent. Some demanded the king’s death; the edict spared his life but deposed him and banished him to Fangling. Yun committed suicide; Ye was executed in the marketplace. Seventeen years into his reign the kingdom was abolished.
24
In Yuanshi 1, Wang Mang, undoing Ai’s policies, persuaded the grand empress dowager to make Yun’s heir Kai Ming king of Dongping and to enfeoff Chengdu, grandson of the Prince of Dongping, as king of Zhongshan. Kai Ming reigned three years and died without issue. The court then set Kuang, son of Marquis Yanxiang Xin, on the Dongping throne to continue Kai Ming’s line. Under Mang’s regency the eastern governor Zhai Yi conspired with Marquis Xin to march against Mang and proclaimed Xin emperor. Their forces were crushed and Mang wiped them out.
25
Prince Ai of Zhongshan, Jing
26
Prince Ai of Zhongshan, Jing, was made king of Qinghe in Chuyuan 2. The next year he was transferred to Zhongshan but, still a child, did not take up the fief. He died at the princely residence in Jianzhao 4 and was buried at Du; without an heir the line ended. His mother the queen dowager went back to live with her Rong kin.
27
Emperor Yuan had three sons
28
Emperor Yuan had three sons. Empress Wang gave birth to Emperor Cheng. Lady Fu the Brilliant Companion bore Prince Gong of Dingtao, Kang; Lady Feng the Brilliant Companion bore Prince Xiao of Zhongshan, Xing.
29
Prince Gong of Dingtao, Kang
30
Prince Gong of Dingtao, Kang, was enfeoffed as king of Jiyang in the third year of Yongguang. In the eighth year he was transferred to Shanyang. He was then transferred to Dingtao. The emperor doted on him from boyhood; grown, he was versatile and musical, and the throne marked him as exceptional. His mother the brilliant companion was also favored and several times nearly unseated empress and crown prince. The story is told in the biographies of Empress Yuan and Shi Dan.
31
Prince Xiao of Zhongshan, Xing
32
Prince Xiao of Zhongshan, Xing, was made king of Xindu in Jianzhao 2. In the fourteenth year he was transferred to Zhongshan. When Cheng debated the succession, Imperial Counselor Kong Guang cited the Documents on Yin brother-to-brother transmission and argued that Xing, Yuan’s son and king of Zhongshan, should follow. Cheng judged Xing unfit and held that brothers could not share one temple line. The Wangs at court and Lady Zhao the brilliant companion both wanted Ai as heir, so he was chosen. The emperor then made Xing’s uncle Feng Can marquis of Yixiang and added ten thousand households to Xing’s fief to soothe him. He died in the thirtieth year of his reign; his son Kan inherited. In the seventh year of Kan’s reign Ai died childless; Kan was summoned to the capital as Emperor Ping. The grand empress dowager, treating Ping as Cheng’s heir, enfeoffed Chengdu—son of the Marquis of Taoxiang and great-grandson of Prince Si of Dongping—as king of Zhongshan to carry on Xing’s line. The line ended under Wang Mang.
33
The summation runs: from Emperor Yuan onward they held all under heaven, yet the line died with the grandson—can we call it anything but fate? Prince Xian of Huaiyang was the sharpest of the kings of his day; Zhang Bo led him to the brink of treason. The Poetry says, “The grasping man ruins his own”—so it has ever been.
← Previous Chapter
Back to Chapters
Next Chapter →