by C. T. Hsia
[Dodder]*
It will be hard for that child to escape:
Tu Angu has set tongues wagging.
Slanderers will slander, unflagging.
The enemy must like the enemy hate,
The progeny must trust the progeny’s fate.
Day after day stoking hatred, when will this be done?
Injustice against injustice to requite, how can this be won?
[Flowers in the Rear Courtyard]67
They say that you are Prince Consort Zhao’s honored guest,
But I am a retainer who acts at Tu Angu’s behest.
They say that you are hiding the one-year-old precious heir,
But how can you fly out of the nine-gated dragon-phoenix lair?
If I did not care,
There wouldn’t be questions I did not spare.
He who receives kindness has to pay back with kindness.
[Golden Cup]
I only see streaks of tears on his cheeks.
From the corner of his mouth, milk leaks.
His little rolling eyes try to recognize the guest,
Tightly tucked, he is swaddled inside the chest.
It’s so narrow: he can’t really turn.
It’s so low: how can he stretch?
In truth, “To become a man is to not have it easy,
Having it easy is to not become a man.”
[Heaven for the Drunken]
If I hand him over for gain, that would mean fame to attain,
That would mean for myself a safety charm, and others, harm.
Three hundred in the clan have been cut down,
All branches and leaves are lopped off.
(Adds:) If he sees this young boy … (sings:)
He was determined to break their bodies, grind their bones to dust,
Not leaving any child, any remaining crust.
Why should you, for nothing, be another’s instrument for destruction68 total and unjust?
[Golden Cup]~
[Helped Home Drunk]~
[Blue Song]~
[Coda]69
I would fain endure pain and humiliation,
But why face that scoundrel’s torture and interrogation?
Better to use the three-foot Dragon Spring sword for the final termination.
Just look: the drawings and portraits have been made, the search is under way.
In the deep mountains and open wilds you should hide and stay.
When this child approaches ten,
Let him take up learning literary and martial.
By the time he gets to excel in both,
He is to remember the enemy to loathe,
And seek out the benefactors who pledged their troth.
When he kills his enemy, he must not forget his benefactors!
[ACT 2]
[Nanlü mode: One Sprig of Blossoms]§
Real men are thwarted and hounded,
Veritable pillars of the domain are pounded.
What an overbearing minister, this Tu Angu!
What a weakling of a ruler, this Lord Ling of Jin!
To slander and flattery the lord succumbs.
With military might, the villain overcomes.
Ministers of merit have no venue for loyal fervor.
How can I not be filled with rancor?
Indeed the ruler is in the trap70 of the malefactor!
[Liangzhou Number Seven]§
Ever since he garnered honors as lord and minister, gaining sway in court,
I withdrew from office, all fearful, and to farming deep in a village I resort.
Even if there are those who bring peace and order, they’re hard to follow!
His rank is now the highest,
His position reaches that of the three ministers.
His fief extends over eight counties,
His emolument amounts to a thousand bushels.
He turns a blind eye to injustices
And turns a deaf ear to the people’s curses.
Now he who manipulates the ruler gains honors and promotion,
He who harms the people attains his emolument and ambition,
He who commands the nobles receives rewards and recognition.
Let me be in want and endure poverty,
Why be surprised that after death I will not be honored at a grave with a stone qilin?
It is not that I find plowing a pleasure,
But at least I have leapt out of the tigers’ den, where injury’s the measure:
Just let me nurture my carefree leisure.
[Coda for the Turning Point]§
You may say, since times of yore, slanderers have in court claimed domination,
For all happy events, there’s the same abomination.
He is evermore cursed by millions,
Rejected by legion,
Favored by one.
He is both corrupt and unjust.
The fabric of loyalty and filial piety he has rent,
Now all people under heaven, each and every single one of them, are seething with discontent!
[Congratulating the Groom]*
Who would dare to take one letter and submit it to the royal palace?
They all comply with Tu Angu, flowing east as he looks east.
He’s managed to sway Lord Ling of Jin, who follows his bidding, not deviating the least.
Officials civil and military are shocked into fearful submission,
In all ministries and departments, they feign confusion.
Making themselves scarce, they hold their ivory tablets close to their chests,
As if fish-bladder glue71 has sealed their lips,
As if fish bones stick in their throats.
Bowing their heads, they look like mute men seeking their dreams.
Indeed the world does teem
With affairs that silence does not redeem.72
[Sheep-Herding Pass]
This child, before he was born, lost all his kin.
While still in his mother’s womb, his forebears met their demise.
Raise him to manhood; he may yet bring ruin rather than luck.
His father was executed at Yunyang,
His mother died a prisoner in the palace.
How can he become a minister of true grit, one whose humble roots his rise confirm?
He may yet grow up to be an ungrateful black-headed worm.73
You take him for a true man who will avenge his father and mother,
To me he is nothing but a seed of misfortune that ensnares another.
[Red Peony]
In twenty years you can repay your master.
That will be the moment of real distinction.
Sooner or later I will die, and all our efforts will be for naught.
My energy, unlike former days, is with decline fraught.
If bereft by my sudden death, how can this child accomplish anything?
Old age is not ravaging you, not quite yet.
I can’t wait for abundant life to show my flair:
The morning drums and evening bells are hard to bear.
[Bodhisattva Liangzhou]
Turn to this puppet-show tent,
Beat the drum, play the flute: the show we invent.
Worn and gone are those beautiful years,
Worn and gone is the hero too old.
If his wrong were not avenged, our meeting would have been vain.
To see duty and not embrace it is to lack valor!
If promises are not kept in good faith, how can they matter?
There is no need to ply me with praise polite.
For a true man death is almost trite,
Let alone one like me whose hair has long turned sparse and white.
[Scolding the Lover]*
As for the two of us, it does not matter who would go first and who would wait.
Execution in the marketplace is our inevitable fate.
Because of the beneficence of the Zhao clan, you feel their every pain,
As if ties of kin we sustain.
[Grateful for Imperial Grace]*
Why fear the three-foot frosty blade?
At the most I will end up in nine boiling cauldrons!74
Let them cut me down with a swift sword,
Put me in poison’s coil,
Boil me in roiling oil.
I sigh that my heroic soul will drift into the distance
As mournful mist shrouds all existence.
Disperse the woeful clouds,
Follow the setting sun,
Catch up with the lamenting wind.
[Song of Picking Tea Leaves]*
This old villager
And the little children
Are all carefree under the bright moon.
Rancor rushes up, for boundless pain I brace,
Ten years of events past make nary a trace!
[Third to Last Coda]~
[Penultimate Coda]†
As for that seed of a minister whose merit is honored in the Qilin Room:75
I do not believe that by the tiger’s gate dogs would presume!76
When he grows up, the lineage’s mantle he will assume.
To flay Tu Angu with ten thousand cuts would be punishment too light—
It would not suffice to avenge the pain and suffering of three hundred kinsfolk!
There would be no need for sacrificial ritual,
Just wrest the blood from his chest and scatter it sky-high
And use it as offerings to your father and grandfather.
[Coda]§
Relying on the branch and shoot of the Zhao clan that will last a thousand years,
The Jin house will be upheld, lording over impregnable terrains and frontiers.
Relying on awesome might revealed, he will lead the troops
And set forth two rows of vermilion-clad soldiers by chariots in groups.
Think of Ling Zhe who helped the wheel along: how fierce his will!
Chu Ni who smashed himself against the locust tree: a martyrdom to fulfill!
The palace guards keeping watch at the gate did not come to a good end,
The slain Gongsun was old, and his usefulness none could commend.
The newborn child to the sword’s blade fell prey,
Cheng Ying, who abandoned his son, had no pity and fear to allay.
The name emblazoned in historical records—futile it will be, all in vain.
But in truth, the day will come when they will its importance maintain.
There is no need to set up my stele among a jumble of tombs—
Because I will already have been buried in Mount Beimang, at an unmarked grave.
[ACT 3]
[Double Tunes mode: Song of New Water]
By the bridge over the small brook, I see the dust of troops rising.
It must be the traitor, compliant nobles in tow, arriving.
The soldiers spread out in perfect array,
Their spears and knives shine in full display.
Today death is staring me in the face,
Why bother to escape torture and disgrace!
[Stop the Horse to Listen]§
Although an old military man, I am still a proud soldier.
Zhao Dun and I were once friends who would die for each other.
As I said, the minister is to prevail, the ruler to fade—
So it’s Gongsun’s tongue that is the executioner’s blade.77
A true man by his valor forges with heroes the same track,
The sages said that the righteous must the unrighteous attack.
The whole clan is annihilated, no progeny will pass:
Heavens!
Biting frost has chosen to kill rootless grass.
[Intoxicated by the East Wind]*
Have no fear that this true man will let his soul fly to the ninth heaven!
Let Tu Angu beat me with a thousand rods all he can.
If I confess quickly, he may soon discern the ruse.
If I am slow to confess, doubts will vanish, he will miss the clues.
Every stroke I endure is one stroke of merit accomplished.
If he is not to pull up the tree, look for roots, and suspect cheating,
I will have to bear my share of trussing, splaying, hanging, and beating.
[Wild Geese Alight]†
Making a mockery of Gongsun, your ploys are grim,
Complying with the traitor, you denounced me to him.
So terrified that I can barely stand as my shuddering knees shake,
No longer mine to control, the pounding of my heart is at stake.
[Victory Song]~
[Water Sprite]
We two conferred—let me first confess—
Words came to the tip of my tongue, but I swallowed them nevertheless.
Even if I die, don’t think that I would give you away, Cheng Ying.
How can I deign to give a good beginning a sorry ending?
(Adds:) Don’t beat me! (Sings:)
At the most you can set up nine cauldrons with boiling oil.
I am old enough—there is no room to turn around and recoil.
Even if I die, it would be for a good cause—
Just hurl on me the hail of blows without pause.
[Paddling on the River]§
Back then you raised the Divine Ao
To bite loyal officials and able generals.
You were about to usurp the throne
And plot to have the ministers overthrown.
All three hundred of his clan, young and old,
Have been cut down at the marketplace.
All nine sets of relations have been erased.
You are still looking for this small child,
Unable to be anything but pitiless and reviled.
[Seven Brothers]§
But his countenance is contorted,
How can he show mercy?
The Five Skandha Mountain is fiery red.78
On the lion-barbarian belt he hitches his brocade warrior’s robe, beneath
He draws his Dragon Spring sword from its sharkskin sheath.
[Plum Blossom Wine]§
Alas!
He is already lying in a pool of blood.
You can tell the story of toil raising a child.
He cannot escape his heaven-allotted fare,
You cannot dispel regrets about your heir.
Cheng Ying!
How to prepare for old age? For raising sons you toil—
I don’t believe you are not in turmoil!
From the time the child left his birth mat
Till now—ten days have passed.
He endured three strikes of the sword, aghast.
[Conquering the Southland]
Isn’t it said that in a rich family, a child is treasured!
I see him, on the side, unable to salve his heart’s gall.79
His eyes did not dare let tears fall.
Stealthily wiped off—tears to hide,
It is as if boiling oil were poured all over his insides.
[Mandarin Ducks Coda]
At sixty I die, what a ripe old age!
This child was one, how perversely early his death!
We two lose our lives together in one place,
In return our fame will ten thousand generations grace.
Indeed, you heed my words, Cheng Ying:
Think of that Zhao Shuo, who died a violent death,
Raise the child to become a man,
Let him avenge the unjust murder of his parents.
Turn this villain into mincemeat with a thousand cuts,
I do not want him let go easily!
[ACT 4]
[Zhonglü mode: Powdered Butterflies]†
No need even to use soldiers under my command—
The Son of Heaven has the help of a hundred spirits at hand,80
Just wait till my father makes supreme rule his stand.81
/> For him to take over the realm, rivers and mountains all,
And the domain’s altars of soil and grain to overhaul,
Is as easy as fishing something out of a cup.
Soon enough, the royal carriage he will be proudly riding.
Cowed by me, the fear of all will be abiding.82
[Intoxicating Spring Wind]†
About to turn against my old master Lord Ling of Jin,
I will assist the new ruler Tu Angu.
Exchange for him the royal crown,83
The green jade belt,
The dragon robes.
Change to another ruler, another ruler!
What is all this talk of “sage ruler and worthy subjects”?
If “the father is loving and the son is filial,”
Why bother about “the subjects shamed by their ruler in distress”?
[Welcome the Immortal]
Why are you hiding traces of tears?
Why this drawn-out sighing?
Just as I, with pressed palms, move forward urgently to get a reply—
Sorely vexed, he is in deep distress,
Seething in anger, his rage seeks redress.
I bow my head and wonder:
How did words of discord tear you asunder?
[Red Embroidered Shoes]§
Painted here are several mulberry trees darkly green
And a group of villagers in a boisterous scene.
Blood-drenched, this one uses his arms to steady the carriage with one wheel.
This one dies under a locust tree.
This one meets death by the sword’s blade.
This old man gives a child to someone he is trying to persuade.
[Pomegranate Blossoms]§
This one, with furious rage, clutches the Kunwu sword in his hand,
This one kneels by the corner of the steps.
This child perishes under the sword’s blade,
The body of a slain woman lies in a pool of blood.
Why is this old man executed?
This one in a red robe is uncommonly vicious!
Following the story through, I yet cannot solve the mystery.
What’s painted baffles me like a riddle—a confounding history!
[Fighting Partridges]†
What child is this on the execution ground?
Whose ancestors are these in this marketplace?
This one can no longer provide for his progeny!
This one can no longer save his parents!
Whose family story is painted on this scroll?
Tell your son from the beginning—let the story unroll:
Did this person violate the statutes and break the laws?
Did this person suffer unjust punishment and wrongful accusation?
