Hung Lou Meng, Book II dotrc-2

by Цао Сюэцинь

  "Quite so!" rejoined Hsi Jen. "Even I little expected to be able to see any of my parents' funeral. When I broke the news to our Madame Wang, she also gave me forty taels. This was really a kind attention on her part. I hadn't nevertheless presumed to indulge in any vain hopes."

  Pao-yue overheard what was said. Hastily twisting himself round, he remarked in a low voice, addressing himself to She Yueeh and her companions: "Who would have fancied her also in here? But were I to enter, she'll bolt away in another tantrum! Better then that we should retrace our steps, and let them quietly have a chat together, eh? Hsi Jen was alone, and down in the mouth, so it's a fortunate thing that she joined her in such good time."

  As he spoke, they once more walked out of the court with gentle tread. Pao-yue went to the back of the rockery, and stopping short, he raised his clothes. She Yueeh and Ch'iu Wen stood still, and turned their faces away. "Stoop," they smiled, "and then loosen your clothes! Be careful that the wind doesn't blow on your stomach!"

  The two young maids, who followed behind, surmised that he was bent upon satisfying a natural want, and they hurried ahead to the tea-room to prepare the water.

  Just, however, as Pao-yue was crossing over, two married women came in sight, advancing from the opposite direction. "Who's there?" they inquired.

  "Pao-yue is here," Ch'ing Wen answered. "But mind, if you bawl and shout like that, you'll give him a start."

  The women promptly laughed. "We had no idea," they said, "that we were coming, at a great festive time like this, to bring trouble upon ourselves! What a lot of hard work must day after day fall to your share, young ladies."

  Speaking the while, they drew near. She Yueeh and her friends then asked them what they were holding in their hands.

  "We're taking over," they replied, "some things to the two girls: Miss Chin and Miss Hua."

  "They're still singing the 'Eight Worthies' outside," She Yueeh went on to observe laughingly, "and how is it you're running again to Miss Chin's and Miss Hua's before the 'Trouble-first moon-box' has been gone through?"

  "Take the lid off," Pao-yue cried, "and let me see what there's inside."

  Ch'in Wen and She Yueeh at once approached and uncovered the boxes. The two women promptly stooped, which enabled Pao-yue to see that the contents of the two boxes consisted alike of some of the finest fruits and tea-cakes, which had figured at the banquet, and, nodding his head, he walked off, while She Yueeh and her friend speedily threw the lids down anyhow, and followed in his track.

  "Those two dames are pleasant enough," Pao-yue smiled, "and they know how to speak decently; but it's they who get quite worn out every day, and they contrariwise say that you've got ample to do daily. Now, doesn't this amount to bragging and boasting?"

  "Those two women," She Yueeh chimed in, "are not bad. But such of them as don't know what good manners mean are ignorant to a degree of all propriety."

  "You, who know what's what," Pao-yue added, "should make allowances for that kind of rustic people. You should pity them; that's all."

  Speaking, he made his exit out of the garden gate. The matrons had, though engaged in drinking and gambling, kept incessantly stepping out of doors to furtively keep an eye on his movements, so that the moment they perceived Pao-yue appear, they followed him in a body. On their arrival in the covered passage of the reception-hall, they espied two young waiting-maids; the one with a small basin in her hand; the other with a towel thrown over her arm. They also held a bowl and small kettle, and had been waiting in that passage for ever so long.

  Ch'iu Wen was the first to hastily stretch out her hand and test the water. "The older you grow," she cried, "the denser you get! How could one ever use this icy-cold water?"

  "Miss, look at the weather!" the young maid replied. "I was afraid the water would get cold. It was really scalding; is it cold now?"

  While she made this rejoinder, an old matron was, by a strange coincidence, seen coming along, carrying a jug of hot water. "Dear dame," shouted the young maid, "come over and pour some for me in here!"

  "My dear girl," the matron responded, "this is for our old mistress to brew tea with. I'll tell you what; you'd better go and fetch some yourself. Are you perchance afraid lest your feet might grow bigger by walking?"

  "I don't care whose it is," Ch'iu Wen put in. "If you don't give me any, I shall certainly empty our old lady's teapot and wash my hands."

  The old matron turned her head; and, catching sight of Ch'iu Wen, she there and then raised the jug and poured some of the water.

  "That will do!" exclaimed Ch'iu Wen. "With all your years, don't you yet know what's what? Who isn't aware that it's for our old mistress? But would one presume to ask for what shouldn't be asked for?"

  "My eyes are so dim," the matron rejoined with a smile, "that I didn't recognise this young lady."

  When Pao-yue had washed his hands, the young maid took the small jug and filled the bowl; and, as she held it in her hand, Pao-yue rinsed his mouth. But Ch'iu Wen and She Yueeh availed themselves likewise of the warm water to have a wash; after which, they followed Pao-yue in.

  Pao-yue at once asked for a kettle of warm wine, and, starting from sister-in-law Li, he began to replenish their cups. (Sister-in-law Li and his aunt Hsueeh) pressed him, however, with smiling faces, to take a seat; but his grandmother Chia remonstrated. "He's only a youngster," she said, "so let him pour the wine! We must all drain this cup!"

  With these words, she quaffed her own cup, leaving no heel-taps. Mesdames Hsing and Wang also lost no time in emptying theirs; so Mrs. Hsueeh and 'sister-in-law' Li had no alternative but to drain their share.

  "Fill the cups too of your female cousins, senior or junior," dowager lady Chia went on to tell Pao-yue. "And you mayn't pour the wine anyhow. Each of you must swallow every drop of your drinks."

  Pao-yue upon hearing her wishes, set to work, while signifying his assent, to replenish the cups of the several young ladies in their proper gradation. But when he got to Tai-yue, she raised the cup, for she would not drink any wine herself, and applied it to Pao-yue's lips. Pao-yue drained the contents with one breath; upon which Tai-yue gave him a smile, and said to him: "I am much obliged to you."

  Pao-yue next poured a cup for her. But lady Feng immediately laughed and expostulated. "Pao-yue!" she cried, "you mustn't take any cold wine. Mind, your hand will tremble, and you won't be able to-morrow to write your characters or to draw the bow."

  "I'm not having any cold wine," Pao-yue replied.

  "I know you're not," lady Feng smiled, "but I simply warn you."

  After this, Pao-yue finished helping the rest of the inmates inside, with the exception of Chia Jung's wife, for whom he bade a maid fill a cup. Then emerging again into the covered passage, he replenished the cups of Chia Chen and his companions; after which, he tarried with them for a while, and at last walked in and resumed his former seat.

  Presently, the soup was brought, and soon after that the 'feast of lanterns' cakes were handed round.

  Dowager lady Chia gave orders that the play should be interrupted for a time. "Those young people," (she said) "are be to pitied! Let them too have some hot soup and warm viands. They then can go on again. Take of every kind of fruit," she continued, "'feast of lanterns' cakes, and other such dainties and give them a few."

  The play was shortly stopped. The matrons ushered in a couple of blind singing-girls, who often came to the house, and put two benches, on the opposite side, for them. Old lady Chia desired them to take a seat, and banjos and guitars were then handed to them.

  "What stories would you like to hear?" old lady Chia inquired of 'sister-in-law' Li and Mrs. Hsueeh.

  "We don't care what they are;" both of them rejoined with one voice. "Any will do!"

  "Have you of late added any new stories to your stock?" old lady Chia asked.

  "We've got a new story," the two girls explained. "It's about an old affair of the time of the Five Dynasties, which trod down the T'ang dynasty."

 
; "What's its title?" old lady Chia inquired.

  "It's called: 'A Feng seeks a Luan in marriage': (the male phoenix asks the female phoenix in marriage)," one of the girls answered.

  "The title is all very well," dowager lady Chia proceeded, "but why I wonder was it ever given to it. First tell us its general purport, and if it's interesting, you can continue."

  "This story," the girl explained, "treats of the time when the T'ang dynasty was extinguished. There lived then one of the gentry, who had originally been a denizen of Chin Ling. His name was Wang Chun. He had been minister under two reigns. He had, about this time, pleaded old age and returned to his home. He had about his knees only one son, called Wang Hsi-feng."

  When the company heard so far, they began to laugh.

  "Now isn't this a duplicate of our girl Feng's name?" old lady Chia laughingly exclaimed.

  A married woman hurried up and pushed (the girl). "That's the name of your lady Secunda," she said, "so don't use it quite so heedlessly!"

  "Go on with your story!" dowager lady Chia shouted.

  The girl speedily stood up, smiling the while. "We do deserve death!" she observed. "We weren't aware that it was our lady's worthy name."

  "Why should you be in such fear and trembling?" lady Feng laughed. "Go on! There are many duplicate names and duplicate surnames."

  The girl then proceeded with her story. "In a certain year," she resumed, "his honour old Mr. Wang saw his son Mr. Wang off for the capital to be in time for the examinations. One day, he was overtaken by a heavy shower of rain and he betook himself into a village for shelter. Who'd have thought it, there lived in this village, one of the gentry, of the name of Li, who had been an old friend of his honour old Mr. Wang, and he kept Mr. Wang junior to put up in his library. This Mr. Li had no son, but only a daughter. This young daughter's worthy name was Ch'u Luan. She could perform on the lute; she could play chess; and she had a knowledge of books and of painting. There was nothing that she did not understand."

  Old lady Chia eagerly chimed in. "It's no wonder," she said, "that the story has been called: 'A Feng seeks a Luan in marriage,' '(a male phoenix seeks a female phoenix in marriage).' But you needn't proceed. I've already guessed the denouement. There's no doubt that Wang Hsi-feng asks for the hand of this Miss Ch'u Luan."

  "Your venerable ladyship must really have heard the story before," the singing-girl smiled.

  "What hasn't our worthy senior heard?" they all exclaimed. "But she's quick enough in guessing even unheard of things."

  "All these stories run invariably in one line," old lady Chia laughingly rejoined. "They're all about pretty girls and scholars. There's no fun in them. They abuse people's daughters in every possible way, and then they still term them nice pretty girls. They're so concocted that there's not even a semblance of truth in them. From the very first, they canvass the families of the gentry. If the paterfamilias isn't a president of a board; then he's made a minister. The heroine is bound to be as lovable as a gem. This young lady is sure to understand all about letters, and propriety. She knows every thing and is, in a word, a peerless beauty. At the sight of a handsome young man, she pays no heed as to whether he be relation or friend, but begins to entertain thoughts of the primary affair of her life, and forgets her parents and sets her books on one side. She behaves as neither devil nor thief would: so in what respect does she resemble a nice pretty girl? Were even her brain full of learning, she couldn't be accounted a nice pretty girl, after behaving in this manner! Just like a young fellow, whose mind is well stored with book-lore, and who goes and plays the robber! Now is it likely that the imperial laws would look upon him as a man of parts, and that they wouldn't bring against him some charge of robbery? From this it's evident that those, who fabricate these stories, contradict themselves. Besides, they may, it's true, say that the heroines belong to great families of official and literary status, that they're conversant with propriety and learning and that their honourable mothers too understand books and good manners, but great households like theirs must, in spite of the parents having pleaded old age and returned to their natives places, contain a great number of inmates; and the nurses, maids and attendants on these young ladies must also be many; and how is it then that, whenever these stories make reference to such matters, one only hears of young ladies with but a single close attendant? What can, think for yourselves, all the other people be up to? Indeed, what is said before doesn't accord with what comes afterwards. Isn't it so, eh?"

  The party listened to her with much glee. "These criticisms of yours, venerable ancestor," they said, "have laid bare every single discrepancy."

  "They have however their reasons," old lady Chia smilingly resumed. "Among the writers of these stories, there are some, who begrudge people's wealth and honours, or possibly those, who having solicited a favour (of the wealthy and honorable), and not obtained the object, upon which their wishes were set, have fabricated lies in order to disparage people. There is moreover a certain class of persons, who become so corrupted by the perusal of such tales that they are not satisfied until they themselves pounce upon some nice pretty girl. Hence is it that, for fun's sake, they devise all these yarns. But how could such as they ever know the principle which prevails in official and literary families? Not to speak of the various official and literary families spoken about in these anecdotes, take now our own immediate case as an instance. We're only such a middle class household, and yet we've got none of those occurrences; so don't let her go on spinning these endless yarns. We must on no account have any of these stories told us! Why, even the maids themselves don't understand any of this sort of language. I've been getting so old the last few years, that I felt unawares quite melancholy whenever the girls went to live far off, so my wont has been to have a few passages recounted to me; but as soon as they got back, I at once put a stop to these things."

  'Sister-in-law' Li and Mrs. Hsueeh both laughed. "This is just the rule," they said, "which should exist in great families. Not even in our homes is any of this confused talk allowed to reach the ears of the young people."

  Lady Feng came forward and poured some wine. "Enough, that will do!" she laughed. "The wine has got quite cold. My dear ancestor, do take a sip and moisten your throat with, before you begin again to dilate on falsehoods. What we've been having now can well be termed 'Record of a discussion on falsehoods.' It has had its origin in this reign, in this place, in this year, in this moon, on this day and at this very season. But, venerable senior, you've only got one mouth, so you couldn't very well simultaneously speak of two families. 'When two flowers open together,' the proverb says, 'one person can only speak of one.' But whether the stones be true or fictitious, don't let us say anything more about them. Let's have the footlights put in order, and look at the players. Dear senior, do let these two relatives have a glass of wine and see a couple of plays; and you can then start arguing about one dynasty after another. Eh, what do you say?"

  Saying this, she poured the wine, laughing the while. But she had scarcely done speaking before the whole company were convulsed with laughter. The two singing girls were themselves unable to keep their countenance.

  "Lady Secunda," they both exclaimed, "what a sharp tongue you have! Were your ladyship to take to story-telling, we really would have nowhere to earn our rice."

  "Don't be in such overflowing spirits," Mrs. Hsueeh laughed. "There are people outside; this isn't like any ordinary occasion."

  "There's only my senior brother-in-law Chen outside," lady Feng smiled. "And we've been like brother and sister from our youth up. We've romped and been up to every mischief to this age together. But all on account of my marriage, I've had of late years to stand on ever so many ceremonies. Why besides being like brother and sister from the time we were small kids, he's anyhow my senior brother-in-law, and I his junior sister-in-law. (One among) those twenty four dutiful sons, travestied himself in theatrical costume (to amuse his parents), but those fellows haven't sufficient spirit to come in
some stage togs and try and make you have a laugh, dear ancestor. I've however succeeded, after ever so much exertion, in so diverting you as to induce you to eat a little more than you would, and in putting everybody in good humour; and I should be thanked by one and all of you; it's only right that I should. But can it be that you will, on the contrary, poke fun at me?"

  "I've truly not had a hearty laugh the last few days," old lady Chia smiled, "but thanks to the funny things she recounted just now, I've managed to get in somewhat better spirits in here. So I'll have another cup of wine." Then having drunk her wine, "Pao-yue," she went on to say, "come and present a cup to your sister-in-law!"

  Lady Feng gave a smile. "There's no use for him to give me any wine," she ventured. "(I'll drink out of your cup,) so as to bring upon myself your longevity, venerable ancestor."

  While uttering this response, she raised dowager lady Chia's cup to her lips, and drained the remaining half of the contents; after which, she handed the cup to a waiting-maid, who took one from those which had been rinsed with tepid water, and brought it to her. But in due course, the cups from the various tables were cleared, and clean ones, washed in warm water, were substituted; and when fresh wine had been served round, (lady Feng and the maid) resumed their seats.

  "Venerable lady," a singing-girl put in, "you don't like the stories we tell; but may we thrum a song for you?"

  "You two," remarked old lady Chia, "had better play a duet of the 'Chiang Chuen ling' song: 'the general's command.'"