by Цао Сюэцинь
The moment the maids and matrons saw him approach with his waterproof-wrapper thrown over his person and his rain-hat on his head, they with one voice laughed, "We were just remarking that what was lacking was a fisherman, and lo, now we've got everything that was wanted! The young ladies are coming after their breakfast; you're in too impatient a mood!"
At these words, Pao-yue had no help but to retrace his footsteps. As soon as he reached the Hsin Tang pavilion, he perceived T'an Ch'un, issuing from the Ch'iu Shuang Study, wrapped in a deep red woollen waterproof, and a 'Kuan Yin' hood on her head, supporting herself on the arm of a young maid. Behind her, followed a married woman, holding a glazed umbrella made of green satin.
Pao-yue knew very well that she was on her way to his grandmother's, so speedily halting by the side of the pavilion, he waited for her to come up. The two cousins then left the garden together, and betook themselves to the front part of the mansion. Pao-ch'in was at the time in the inner apartments, combing her hair, washing her hands and face and changing her apparel. Shortly, the whole number of girls arrived. "I feel peckish!" Pao-yue shouted; and again and again he tried to hurry the meal. It was with great impatience that he waited until the eatables could be laid on the table.
One of the dishes consisted of kid, boiled in cow's milk. "This is medicine for us, who are advanced in years," old lady Chia observed. "They're things that haven't seen the light! The pity is that you young people can't have any. There's some fresh venison to-day as an extra course, so you'd better wait and eat some of that!"
One and all expressed their readiness to wait. Pao-yue however could not delay having something to eat. Seizing a cup of tea, he soaked a bowlful of rice, to which he added some meat from a pheasant's leg, and gobbled it down in a scramble.
"I'm well aware," dowager lady Chia said, "that as you're up to something again to-day, you people have no mind even for your meal. Let them keep," she therefore cried, "that venison for their evening repast!"
"What an idea!" lady Feng promptly put in. "We'll have enough with what remains of it."
Shih Hsiang-yuen thereupon consulted with Pao-yue. "As there's fresh venison," she said, "wouldn't it be nice to ask for a haunch and take it into the garden and prepare it ourselves? We'll thus be able to sate our hunger, and have some fun as well."
At this proposal, Pao-yue actually asked lady Feng to let them have a haunch, and he bade a matron carry it into the garden.
Presently, they all got up from table. After a time, they entered the garden and came in a body to the Lu Hsueeh pavilion to hear Li Wan give out the themes, and fix upon the rhymes. But Hsiang-yuen and Pao-yue were the only two of whom nothing was seen.
"Those two," Tai-yue observed, "can't get together! The moment they meet, how much trouble doesn't arise! They must surely have now gone to hatch their plans over that haunch of venison."
These words were still on her lips when she saw 'sister-in-law' Li coming also to see what the noise was all about. "How is it," she then inquired of Li Wan, "that that young fellow, with the jade, and that girl, with the golden unicorn round her neck, both of whom are so cleanly and tidy, and have besides ample to eat, are over there conferring about eating raw meat? There they are chatting, saying this and saying that; but I can't see how meat can be eaten raw!"
This remark much amused the party. "How dreadful!" they exclaimed, "Be quick and bring them both here!"
"All this fuss," Tay-yue smiled, "is the work of that girl Yuen. I'm not far off again in my surmises."
Li Wan went out with precipitate step in search of the cousins. "If you two are bent upon eating raw meat," she cried, "I'll send you over to our old senior's; you can do so there. What will I care then if you have a whole deer raw and make yourselves ill over it? It won't be any business of mine. But it's snowing hard and it's bitterly cold, so be quick and go and write some verses for me and be off!"
"We're doing nothing of the kind," Pao-yue hastily rejoined. "We're going to eat some roasted meat."
"Well, that won't matter!" Li Wan observed. And seeing the old matrons bring an iron stove, prongs and a gridiron of iron wire, "Mind you don't cut your hands," Li Wan resumed, "for we won't have any crying!"
This remark concluded, she walked in.
Lady Feng had sent P'ing Erh from her quarters to announce that she was unable to come, as the issue of the customary annual money gave her just at present, plenty to keep her busy.
Hsiang-yuen caught sight of P'ing Erh and would not let her go on her errand. But P'ing Erh too was fond of amusement, and had ever followed lady Feng everywhere she went, so, when she perceived what fun was to be got, and how merrily they joked and laughed, she felt impelled to take off her bracelets (and to join them). The trio then pressed round the fire; and P'ing Erh wanted to be the first to roast three pieces of venison to regale themselves with.
On the other side, Pao-ch'ai and Tai-yue had, even in ordinary times, seen enough of occasions like the present. They did not therefore think it anything out of the way; but Pao-ch'in and the other visitors, inclusive of 'sister-in-law' Li, were filled with intense wonder.
T'an Ch'un had, with the help of Li Wan, and her companions, succeeded by this time in choosing the subjects and rhymes. "Just smell that sweet fragrance," T'an Ch'un remarked. "One can smell it even here! I'm also going to taste some."
So speaking, she too went to look them up. But Li Wan likewise followed her out. "The guests are all assembled," she observed. "Haven't you people had enough as yet?"
While Hsiang-yuen munched what she had in her month, she replied to her question. "Whenever," she said, "I eat this sort of thing, I feel a craving for wine. It's only after I've had some that I shall be able to rhyme. Were it not for this venison, I would to-day have positively been quite unfit for any poetry." As she spoke, she discerned Pao-ch'in, standing and laughing opposite to her, in her duck-down garment.
"You idiot," Hsiang-yuen laughingly cried, "come and have a mouthful to taste."
"It's too filthy!" Pao-ch'in replied smiling.
"You go and try it." Pao-ch'ai added with a laugh. "It's capital! Your cousin Lin is so very weak that she couldn't digest it, if she had any. Otherwise she too is very fond of this."
Upon hearing this, Pao-ch'in readily crossed over and put a piece in her mouth; and so good did she find it that she likewise started eating some of it.
In a little time, however, lady Feng sent a young maid to call P'ing Erh.
"Miss Shih," P'ing Erh explained, "won't let me go. So just return ahead of me."
The maid thereupon took her leave; but shortly after they saw lady Feng arrive; she too with a wrapper over her shoulders.
"You're having," she smiled; "such dainties to eat, and don't you tell me?"
Saying this, she also drew near and began to eat.
"Where has this crowd of beggars turned up from?" Tai-yue put in with a laugh. "But never mind, never mind! Here's the Lu Hsueeh pavilion come in for this calamity to-day, and, as it happens, it's that chit Yuen by whom it has been polluted! But I'll have a good cry for the Lu Hsueeh pavilion."
Hsiang-yuen gave an ironical smile. "What do you know?" she exclaimed. "A genuine man of letters is naturally refined. But as for the whole lot of you, your poor and lofty notions are all a sham! You are most loathsome! We may now be frowzy and smelly, as we munch away lustily with our voracious appetites, but by and bye we'll prove as refined as scholars, as if we had cultured minds and polished tongues."
"If by and bye," Pao-ch'ai laughingly interposed, "the verses you compose are not worth anything, I'll tug out that meat you've eaten, and take some of these snow-buried weeds and stuff you up with. I'll thus put an end to this evil fortune!"
While bandying words, they finished eating. For a time, they busied themselves with washing their hands. But when P'ing Erh came to put on her bracelets, she found one missing. She looked in a confused manner, at one time to the left, at another to the right; now in front of her, and then behin
d her for ever so long, but not a single vestige of it was visible. One and all were therefore filled with utter astonishment.
"I know where this bracelet has gone to;" lady Feng suggested smilingly. "But just you all go and attend to your poetry. We too can well dispense with searching for it, and repair to the front. Before three days are out, I'll wager that it turns up. What verses are you writing to-day?" continuing she went on to inquire. "Our worthy senior says that the end of the year is again nigh at hand, and that in the first moon some more conundrums will have to be devised to be affixed on lanterns, for the recreation of the whole family."
"Of course we'll have to write a few," they laughingly rejoined, upon hearing her remarks. "We forgot all about it. Let's hurry up now, and compose a few fine ones, so as to have them ready to enjoy some good fun in the first moon."
Speaking the while, they came in a body into the room with the earthen couches, where they found the cups, dishes and eatables already laid out in readiness. On the walls had been put up the themes, metre, and specimen verses. Pao-yue and Hsiang-yuen hastened to examine what was written. They saw that they had to take for a theme something on the present scenery and indite a stanza with antithetical pentameter lines; that the word 'hsiao,' second (in the book of metre), had been fixed upon as a rhyme; but that there was, below that, no mention, as yet, made of any precedence.
"I can't write verses very well," Li Wan pleaded, "so all I'll do will be to devise three lines, and the one, who'll finish the task first, we'll have afterwards to pair them."
"We should, after all," Pao-ch'ai urged, "make some distinction with regard to order."
But, reader, if you entertain any desire to know the sequel, peruse the particulars recorded in the chapter that follows.
CHAPTER L.
In the Lu Hsueeh pavilion, they vie with each other in pairing verses
on the scenery.
In the Nuan Hsiang village, they compose, in beautiful style, riddles
for the spring lanterns.
But to continue. "We should, after all," Pao-ch'ai suggested, "make some distinction as to order. Let me write out what's needful."
After uttering this proposal, she urged every one to draw lots and determine the precedence. The first one to draw was Li Wan. After her, a list of the respective names was made in the order in which they came out.
"Well, in that case," lady Feng rejoined, "I'll also give a top line."
The whole party laughed in chorus. "It will be ever so much better like this," they said.
Pao-ch'ai supplied above 'the old labourer of Tao Hsiang' the word 'Feng,' whereupon Li Wan went on to explain the theme to her.
"You musn't poke fun at me!" lady Feng smiled, after considerable reflection. "I've only managed to get a coarse line. It consists of five words. As for the rest, I have no idea how to manage them."
"The coarser the language, the better it is," one and all laughed. "Out with it! You can then go and attend to your legitimate business!"
"I fancy," lady Feng observed, "that when it snows there's bound to be northerly wind, for last night I heard the wind blow from the north the whole night long. I've got a line, it's:
"'The whole night long the northern wind was high;'
"but whether it will do or not, I am not going to worry my mind about it."
One and all, upon hearing this, exchanged looks. "This line is, it's true, coarse," they smiled, "and gives no insight into what comes below, but it's just the kind of opening that would be used by such as understand versification. It's not only good, but it will afford to those, who come after you, inexhaustible scope for writing. In fact, this line will take the lead, so 'old labourer of Tao Hsiang' be quick and indite some more to tag on below."
Lady Feng, 'sister-in-law' Li, and P'ing Erh had then another couple of glasses, after which each went her own way. During this while Li Wan wrote down:
The whole night long the northern wind was high;
and then she herself subjoined the antithetical couplet:
The door I ope, and lo the flakes of snow are still toss'd by the
wind,
And drop into the slush. Oh, what a pity they're so purely white!
Hsiang Ling recited:
All o'er the ground is spread, alas, this bright, refulgent gem;
But with an aim; for it is meant dry herbage to revive.
T'an Ch'un said:
Without design the dying sprouts of grain it nutrifies.
But in the villages the price of mellow wine doth rise.
Li Ch'i added:
In a good year, grain in the house is plentiful.
The bulrush moves and the ash issues from the tube.
Li Wen continued:
What time spring comes the handle of the Dipper turns.
The bleaky hills have long ago their verdure lost.
Chou-yen proceeded:
On a frost-covered stream, no tide can ever rise.
Easy the snow hangs on the sparse-leaved willow twigs.
Hsiang-yuen pursued:
Hard 'tis for snow to pile on broken plantain leaves.
The coal, musk-scented, burns in the precious tripod.
Pao-ch'in recited:
Th' embroidered sleeve enwraps the golden sable in its folds.
The snow transcends the mirror by the window in lustre.
Pao-yue suggested:
The fragrant pepper clings unto the wall.
The side wind still in whistling gusts doth blow.
Tai-yue added:
A quiet dream becomes a cheerless thing.
Where is the fife with plum bloom painted on?
Pao-ch'ai continued:
In whose household is there a flute made of green jade?
The fish fears lest the earth from its axis might drop.
"I'll go and see that the wine is warm for you people," Li Wan smiled.
But when Pao-ch'ai told Pao-ch'in to connect some lines, she caught sight of Hsiang-yuen rise to her feet and put in:
What time the dragon wages war, the clouds dispel.
Back to the wild shore turns the man with single scull.
Pao-ch'in thereupon again appended the couplet:
The old man hums his lines, and with his whip he points at the 'Pa'
bridge.
Fur coats are, out of pity, on the troops at the frontiers bestowed.
But would Hsiang-yuen allow any one to have a say? The others could not besides come up to her in quickness of wits so that, while their eyes were fixed on her, she with eyebrows uplifted and figure outstretched proceeded to say:
More cotton coats confer, for bear in memory th' imperial serfs!
The rugged barbarous lands are (on account of snow) with dangers
fraught.
Pao-ch'ai praised the verses again and again, and next contributed the distich:
The twigs and branches live in fear of being tossed about.
With what whiteness and feath'ry step the flakes of snow descend!
Tai-yue eagerly subjoined the lines:
The snow as nimbly falls as moves the waist of the 'Sui' man when
brandishing the sword.
The tender leaves of tea, so acrid to the taste, have just been newly
brewed and tried.
As she recited this couplet, she gave Pao-yue a shove and urged him to go on. Pao-yue was, at the moment, enjoying the intense pleasure of watching the three girls Pao-ch'ai, Pao-ch'in and Tai-yue make a joint onslaught on Hsiang-yuen, so that he had of course not given his mind to tagging any antithetical verses. But when he now felt Tai-yue push him he at length chimed in with:
The fir is the sole tree which is decreed for ever to subsist.
The wild goose follows in the mud the prints and traces of its steps.
Pao-ch'in took up the clue, adding:
In the forest, the axe of the woodcutter may betimes be heard.
With (snow) covered contours, a thousand peaks their heads jut in the
>
air.
Hsiang-yuen with alacrity annexed the verses:
The whole way tortuous winds like a coiled snake.
The flowers have felt the cold and ceased to bud.
Pao-ch'ai and her companions again with one voice eulogised their fine diction.
T'an Ch'un then continued:
Could e'er the beauteous snow dread the nipping of frost?
In the deep court the shivering birds are startled by its fall.
Hsiang-yuen happened to be feeling thirsty and was hurriedly swallowing a cup of tea, when her turn was at once snatched by Chou-yen, who gave out the lines,
On the bare mountain wails the old man Hsiao.
The snow covers the steps, both high and low.
Hsiang-yuen immediately put away the tea-cup and added:
On the pond's surface, it allows itself to float.
At the first blush of dawn with effulgence it shines.
Tai-yue recited with alacrity the couplet:
In confused flakes, it ceaseless falls the whole night long.
Troth one forgets that it implies three feet of cold.
Hsiang-yuen hastened to smilingly interpose with the distich:
Its auspicious descent dispels the Emperor's grief.
There lies one frozen-stiff, but who asks him a word?
Pao-ch'in too speedily put on a smile and added:
Glad is the proud wayfarer when he's pressed to drink.
Snapped is the weaving belt in the heavenly machine.
Hsiang-yuen once again eagerly quoted the line:
In the seaside market is lost a silk kerchief.
But Lin Tai-yue would not let her continue, and taking up the thread, she forthwith said:
With quiet silence, it enshrouds the raised kiosque.
