by Cao Xueqin
"Brother Chou and brother Ch'ien," Pao-yü smiled, from his seat on his horse, "let's go by this side-gate. It will save my having again to dismount, when we reach the entrance to my father's study."
"Mr. Chia Cheng is not in his study," Chou Jui laughed, with a curtsey. "It has been daily under lock and key, so there will be no need for you, master, to get down from your horse."
"Though it be locked up," Pao-yü smiled, "I shall have to dismount all the same."
"You're quite right in what you say, master;" both Ch'ien Ch'i and Li Kuei chimed in laughingly; "but pretend you're lazy and don't get down. In the event of our coming across Mr. Lai Ta and our number two Mr. Lin, they're sure, rather awkward though it be for them to say anything to their master, to tender you one or two words of advice, but throw the whole of the blame upon us. You can also tell them that we had not explained to you what was the right thing to do."
Chou Jui and Ch'ien Ch'i accordingly wended their steps straight for the side-gate. But while they were keeping up some sort of conversation, they came face to face with Lai Ta on his way in.
Pao-yü speedily pulled in his horse, with the idea of dismounting. But Lai Ta hastened to draw near and to clasp his leg. Pao-yü stood up on his stirrup, and, putting on a smile, he took his hand in his, and made several remarks to him.
In quick succession, he also perceived a young servant-lad make his appearance inside leading the way for twenty or thirty servants, laden with brooms and dust-baskets. The moment they espied Pao-yü, they, one and all, stood along the wall, and dropped their arms against their sides, with the exception of the head lad, who bending one knee, said: "My obeisance to you, sir."
Pao-yü could not recall to mind his name or surname, but forcing a faint smile, he nodded his head to and fro. It was only when the horse had well gone past, that the lad eventually led the bevy of servants off, and that they went after their business.
Presently, they egressed from the side-gate. Outside, stood the servant-lads of the six domestics, Li Kuei and his companions, as well as several grooms, who had, from an early hour, got ready about ten horses and been standing, on special duty, waiting for their arrival. As soon as they reached the further end of the side-gate, Li Kuei and each of the other attendants mounted their horses, and pressed ahead to lead the way. Like a streak of smoke, they got out of sight, without any occurrence worth noticing.
Ch'ing Wen, meanwhile, continued to take her medicines. But still she experienced no relief in her ailment. Such was the state of exasperation into which she worked herself that she abused the doctor right and left. "All he's good for," she cried, "is to squeeze people's money. But he doesn't know how to prescribe a single dose of efficacious medicine for his patients."
"You have far too impatient a disposition!" She Yüeh said, as she advised her, with a smile. "'A disease,' the proverb has it, 'comes like a crumbling mountain, and goes like silk that is reeled.' Besides, they're not the divine pills of 'Lao Chün'. How ever could there be such efficacious medicines? The only thing for you to do is to quietly look after yourself for several days, and you're sure to get all right. But the more you work yourself into such a frenzy, the worse you get!"
Ch'ing Weng went on to heap abuse on the head of the young-maids. "Where have they gone? Have they bored into the sand?" she ejaculated. "They see well enough that I'm ill, so they make bold and runaway. But by and bye when I recover, I shall take one by one of you and flay your skin off for you."
Ting Erh, a young maid, was struck with dismay, and ran up to her with hasty step. "Miss," she inquired, "what's up with you?"
"Is it likely that the rest are all dead and gone, and that there only remains but you?" Ch'ing Wen exclaimed.
But while she spoke, she saw Chui Erh also slowly enter the room.
"Look at this vixen!" Ch'ing Wen shouted. "If I don't ask for her, she won't come. Had there been any monthly allowances issued and fruits distributed here, you would have been the first to run in! But approach a bit! Am I tigress to gobble you up?"
Chui Erh was under the necessity of advancing a few steps nearer to her. But, all of a sudden, Ch'ing Wen stooped forward, and with a dash clutching her hand, she took a long pin from the side of her pillow, and pricked it at random all over.
"What's the use of such paws?" she railed at her. "They don't ply a needle, and they don't touch any thread! All you're good for is to prig things to stuff that mouth of yours with! The skin of your phiz is shallow and those paws of yours are light! But with the shame you bring upon yourself before the world, isn't it right that I should prick you, and make mincemeat of you?"
Chui Erh shouted so wildly from pain that She Yueh stepped forward and immediately drew them apart. She then pressed Ch'ing Wen, until she induced her to lie down.
"You're just perspiring," she remarked, "and here you are once more bent upon killing yourself. Wait until you are yourself again! Won't you then be able to give her as many blows as you may like? What's the use of kicking up all this fuss just now?"
Ch'ing Wen bade a servant tell nurse Sung to come in. "Our master Secundus, Mr. Pao-yü, recently asked me to tell you," she remarked on her arrival, "that Chui Erh is very lazy. He himself gives her orders to her very face, but she is ever ready to raise objections and not to budge. Even when Hsi Jen bids her do things, she vilifies her behind her back. She must absolutely therefore be packed off to-day. And if Mr. Pao himself lays the matter to-morrow before Madame Wang, things will be square."
After listening to her grievances, nurse Sung readily concluded in her mind that the affair of the bracelet had come to be known. "What you suggest is well and good, it's true," she consequently smiled, "but it's as well to wait until Miss Hua (flower) returns and hears about the things. We can then give her the sack."
"Mr. Pao-yü urgently enjoined this to-day," Ch'ing Wen pursued, "so what about Miss Hua (flower) and Miss Ts'ao (grass)? We've, of course, gob rules of propriety here, so you just do as I tell you; and be quick and send for some one from her house to come and fetch her away!"
"Well, now let's drop this!" She Yüeh interposed. "Whether she goes soon or whether she goes late is one and the same thing; so let them take her away soon; we'll then be the sooner clear of her."
At these words, nurse Sung had no alternative but to step out, and to send for her mother. When she came, she got ready all her effects, and then came to see Ch'ing Wen and the other girls. "Young ladies," she said, "what's up? If your niece doesn't behave as she ought to, why, call her to account. But why banish her from this place? You should, indeed, leave us a little face!"
"As regards what you say," Ch'ing Wen put in, "wait until Pao-yü comes, and then we can ask him. It's nothing to do with us."
The woman gave a sardonic smile. "Have I got the courage to ask him?" she answered. "In what matter doesn't he lend an ear to any settlement you, young ladies, may propose? He invariably agrees to all you say! But if you, young ladies, aren't agreeable, it's really of no avail. When you, for example, spoke just now,—it's true it was on the sly,—you called him straightway by his name, miss. This thing does very well with you, young ladies, but were we to do anything of the kind, we'd be looked upon as very savages!"
Ch'ing Wen, upon hearing her remark, became more than ever exasperated, and got crimson in the face. "Yes, I called him by his name," she rejoined, "so you'd better go and report me to our old lady and Madame Wang. Tell them I'm a rustic and let them send me too off."
"Sister-in-law," urged She Yüeh, "just you take her away; and if you've got aught to say, you can say it by and bye. Is this a place for you to bawl in and to try and explain what is right? Whom have you seen discourse upon the rules of propriety with us? Not to speak of you, sister-in-law, even Mrs. Lai Ta and Mrs. Lin treat us fairly well. And as for calling him by name, why, from days of yore to the very present, our dowager mistress has invariably bidden us do so. You yourselves are well aware of it. So much did she fear that it would be a difficult job to rear him t
hat she deliberately wrote his infant name on slips of paper and had them stuck everywhere and anywhere with the design that one and all should call him by it. And this in order that it might exercise a good influence upon his bringing up. Even water-coolies and scavenger-coolies indiscriminately address him by his name; and how much more such as we? So late, in fact, as yesterday Mrs. Lin gave him but once the title of 'Sir,' and our old mistress called even her to task. This is one side of the question. In the next place, we all have to go and make frequent reports to our venerable dowager lady and Madame Wang, and don't we with them allude to him by name in what we have to say? Is it likely we'd also style him 'Sir?' What day is there that we don't utter the two words 'Pao-yü' two hundred times? And is it for you, sister-in-law, to come and pick out this fault? But in a day or so, when you've leisure to go to our old mistress' and Madame Wang's, you'll hear us call him by name in their very presence, and then you'll feel convinced. You've never, sister-in-law, had occasion to fulfil any honourable duties by our old lady and our lady. From one year's end to the other, all you do is to simply loaf outside the third door. So it's no matter of surprise, if you don't happen to know anything of the customs which prevail with us inside. But this isn't a place where you, sister-in-law, can linger for long. In another moment, there won't be any need for us to say anything; for some one will be coming to ask you what you want, and what excuse will you be able to plead? So take her away and let Mrs. Lin know about it; and commission her to come and find our Mr. Secundus and tell him all. There are in this establishment over a thousand inmates; one comes and another comes, so that though we know people and inquire their names, we can't nevertheless imprint them clearly on our minds."
At the close of this long rigmarole, she at once told a young maid to take the mop and wash the floors.
The woman listened patiently to her arguments, but she could find no words to say anything to her by way of reply. Nor did she have the audacity to protract her stay. So flying into a huff, she took Chui Erh along with her, and there and then made her way out.
"Is it likely," nurse Sung hastily observed, "that a dame like you doesn't know what manners mean? Your daughter has been in these rooms for some time, so she should, when she is about to go, knock her head before the young ladies. She has no other means of showing her gratitude. Not that they care much about such things. Yet were she to simply knock her head, she would acquit herself of a duty, if nothing more. But how is it that she says I'm going, and off she forthwith rushes?"
Chui Erh overheard these words, and felt under the necessity of turning back. Entering therefore the apartment, she prostrated herself before the two girls, and then she went in quest of Ch'iu Wen and her companions, but neither did they pay any notice whatever to her.
"Hai!" ejaculated the woman, and heaving a sigh—for she did not venture to utter a word,—she walked off, fostering a grudge in her heart.
Ch'ing Wen had, while suffering from a cold, got into a fit of anger into the bargain, so instead of being better, she was worse, and she tossed and rolled until the time came for lighting the lamps. But the moment she felt more at ease, she saw Pao-yü come back. As soon as he put his foot inside the door, he gave way to an exclamation, and stamped his foot.
"What's the reason of such behaviour?" She Yüeh promptly asked him.
"My old grandmother," Pao-yü explained, "was in such capital spirits that she gave me this coat to-day; but, who'd have thought it, I inadvertently burnt part of the back lapel. Fortunately however the evening was advanced so that neither she nor my mother noticed what had happened."
Speaking the while, he took it off. She Yüeh, on inspection, found indeed a hole burnt in it of the size of a finger. "This," she said, "must have been done by some spark from the hand-stove. It's of no consequence."
Immediately she called a servant to her. "Take this out on the sly," she bade her, "and let an experienced weaver patch it. It will be all right then."
So saying, she packed it up in a wrapper, and a nurse carried it outside.
"It should be ready by daybreak," she urged. "And by no means let our old lady or Madame Wang know anything about it."
The matron brought it back again, after a protracted absence. "Not only," she explained; "have weavers, first-class tailors, and embroiderers, but even those, who do women's work, been asked about it, and they all have no idea what this is made of. None of them therefore will venture to undertake the job."
"What's to be done?" She Yüeh inquired. "But it won't matter if you don't wear it to-morrow."
"To-morrow is the very day of the anniversary," Pao-yü rejoined. "Grandmother and my mother bade me put this on and go and pay my visit; and here I go and burn it, on the first day I wear it. Now isn't this enough to throw a damper over my good cheer?"
Ch'ing Wen lent an ear to their conversation for a long time, until unable to restrain herself, she twisted herself round. "Bring it here," she chimed in, "and let me see it! You haven't been lucky in wearing this; but never mind!"
These words were still on Ch'ing Wen's lips, when the coat was handed to her. The lamp was likewise moved nearer to her. With minute care she surveyed it. "This is made," Ch'ing Wen observed, "of gold thread, spun from peacock's feathers. So were we now to also take gold thread, twisted from the feathers of the peacock, and darn it closely, by imitating the woof, I think it will pass without detection."
"The peacock-feather-thread is ready at hand," She Yüeh remarked smilingly. "But who's there, exclusive of you, able to join the threads?"
"I'll, needless to say, do my level best to the very cost of my life and finish," Ch'ing Wen added.
"How ever could this do?" Pao-yü eagerly interposed. "You're just slightly better, and how could you take up any needlework?"
"You needn't go on in this chicken-hearted way!" Ch'ing Wen cried. "I know my own self well enough."
With this reply, she sat up, and, putting her hair up, she threw something over her shoulders. Her head felt heavy; her body light. Before her eyes, confusedly flitted golden stirs. In real deed, she could not stand the strain. But when inclined to give up the work, she again dreaded that Pao-yü would be driven to despair. She therefore had perforce to make a supreme effort and, setting her teeth to, she bore the exertion. All the help she asked of She Yüeh was to lend her a hand in reeling the thread.
Ch'ing Wen first took hold of a thread, and put it side by side (with those in the pelisse) to compare the two together. "This," she remarked, "isn't quite like them; but when it's patched up with it, it won't show very much."
"It will do very well," Pao-yü said. "Could one also go and hunt up a Russian tailor?"
Ch'ing Wen commenced by unstitching the lining, and, inserting under it, a bamboo bow, of the size of the mouth of a tea cup, she bound it tight at the back. She then turned her mind to the four sides of the aperture, and these she loosened by scratching them with a golden knife. Making next two stitches across with her needle, she marked out the warp and woof; and, following the way the threads were joined, she first and foremost connected the foundation, and then keeping to the original lines, she went backwards and forwards mending the hole; passing her work, after every second stitch, under further review. But she did not ply her needle three to five times, before she lay herself down on her pillow, and indulged in a little rest.
Pao-yü was standing by her side. Now he inquired of her: "Whether she would like a little hot water to drink." Later on, he asked her to repose herself. Now he seized a grey-squirrel wrapper and threw it over her shoulders. Shortly after, he took a pillow and propped her up. (The way he fussed) so exasperated Ch'ing Wen that she begged and entreated him to leave off.
"My junior ancestor!" she exclaimed, "do go to bed and sleep! If you sit up for the other half of the night, your eyes will to-morrow look as if they had been scooped out, and what good will possibly come out of that?"
Pao-yü realised her state of exasperation and felt compelled to come and lie down anyhow. Bu
t he could not again close his eyes.
In a little while, she heard the clock strike four, and just managing to finish she took a small tooth-brush, and rubbed up the pile.
"That will do!" She Yüeh put in. "One couldn't detect it, unless one examined it carefully."
Pao-yü asked with alacrity to be allowed to have a look at it. "Really," he smiled, "it's quite the same thing."
Ch'ing Wen coughed and coughed time after time, so it was only after extreme difficulty that she succeeded in completing what she had to patch. "It's mended, it's true," she remarked, "but it does not, after all, look anything like it. Yet, I cannot stand the effort any more!"
As she shouted 'Ai-ya,' she lost control over herself, and dropped down upon the bed.
But, reader, if you choose to know anything more of her state, peruse the next chapter.
Chapter LIII
*
In the Ning Kuo mansion sacrifices are offered to their ancestors on the last night of the year. In the Jung Kuo mansion, a banquet is given on the evening of the 15th of the first moon.
But to resume our story. When Pao-yü saw that Ch'ing Wen had in her attempt to finish mending the peacock-down cloak exhausted her strength and fatigued herself, he hastily bade a young maid help him massage her; and setting to work they tapped her for a while, after which, they retired to rest. But not much time elapsed before broad daylight set in. He did not however go out of doors, but simply called out that they should go at once and ask the doctor round.
Presently, Dr. Wang arrived. After feeling her pulse, his suspicions were aroused. "Yesterday," he said, "she was much better, so how is it that to-day she is instead weaker, and has fallen off so much? She must surely have had too much in the way of drinking or eating! Or she must have fatigued herself. A complaint arising from outside sources is, indeed, a light thing. But it's no small matter if one doesn't take proper care of one's self, as she has done after perspiring."
