CHAPTER XXIII.

Pao-yü and Tai-yü make use of some beautiful passages from the Record

of the Western Side-building to bandy jokes.

The excellent ballads sung in the Peony Pavilion touch the tender

heart of Tai-yü.

Soon after the day on which Chia Yuan-ch'un honoured the garden of Broad

Vista with a visit, and her return to the Palace, so our story goes, she

forthwith desired that T'an-ch'un should make a careful copy, in

consecutive order, of the verses, which had been composed and read out

on that occasion, in order that she herself should assign them their

rank, and adjudge the good and bad. And she also directed that an

inscription should be engraved on a stone, in the Broad Vista park, to

serve in future years as a record of the pleasant and felicitous event;

and Chia Cheng, therefore, gave orders to servants to go far and wide,

and select skilful artificers and renowned workmen, to polish the stone

and engrave the characters in the garden of Broad Vista; while Chia Chen

put himself at the head of Chia Jung, Chia P'ing and others to

superintend the work. And as Chia Se had, on the other hand, the control

of Wen Kuan and the rest of the singing girls, twelve in all, as well as

of their costumes and other properties, he had no leisure to attend to

anything else, and consequently once again sent for Chia Ch'ang and Chia

Ling to come and act as overseers.

On a certain day, the works were taken in hand for rubbing the stones

smooth with wax, for carving the inscription, and tracing it with

vermilion, but without entering into details on these matters too

minutely, we will return to the two places, the Yu Huang temple and the

Ta Mo monastery. The company of twelve young bonzes and twelve young

Taoist priests had now moved out of the Garden of Broad Vista, and Chia

Cheng was meditating upon distributing them to various temples to live

apart, when unexpectedly Chia Ch'in's mother, née Chou,--who resided in

the back street, and had been at the time contemplating to pay a visit

to Chia Cheng on this side so as to obtain some charge, be it either

large or small, for her son to look after, that he too should be put in

the way of turning up some money to meet his expenses with,--came, as

luck would have it, to hear that some work was in hand in this mansion,

and lost no time in driving over in a curricle and making her appeal to

lady Feng. And as lady Feng remembered that she had all along not

presumed on her position to put on airs, she willingly acceded to her

request, and after calling to memory some suitable remarks, she at once

went to make her report to madame Wang: "These young bonzes and Taoist

priests," she said, "can by no means be sent over to other places; for

were the Imperial consort to come out at an unexpected moment, they

would then be required to perform services; and in the event of their

being scattered, there will, when the time comes to requisition their

help, again be difficulties in the way; and my idea is that it would be

better to send them all to the family temple, the Iron Fence Temple; and

every month all there will be to do will be to depute some one to take

over a few taels for them to buy firewood and rice with, that's all, and

when there's even a sound of their being required uttered, some one can

at once go and tell them just one word 'come,' and they will come

without the least trouble!"

Madame Wang gave a patient ear to this proposal, and, in due course,

consulted with Chia Cheng.

"You've really," smiled Chia Cheng at these words, "reminded me how I

should act! Yes, let this be done!" And there and then he sent for Chia

Lien.

Chia Lien was, at the time, having his meal with lady Feng, but as soon

as he heard that he was wanted, he put by his rice and was just walking

off, when lady Feng clutched him and pulled him back. "Wait a while,"

she observed with a smirk, "and listen to what I've got to tell you! if

it's about anything else, I've nothing to do with it; but if it be about

the young bonzes and young Taoists, you must, in this particular matter,

please comply with this suggestion of mine," after which, she went on in

this way and that way to put him up to a whole lot of hints.

"I know nothing about it," Chia Lien rejoined smilingly, "and as you

have the knack you yourself had better go and tell him!"

But as soon as lady Feng heard this remark, she stiffened her head and

threw down the chopsticks; and, with an expression on her cheeks, which

looked like a smile and yet not a smile, she glanced angrily at Chia

Lien. "Are you speaking in earnest," she inquired, "or are you only

jesting?"

"Yün Erh, the son of our fifth sister-in-law of the western porch, has

come and appealed to me two or three times, asking for something to look

after," Chia Lien laughed, "and I assented and bade him wait; and now,

after a great deal of trouble, this job has turned up; and there you are

once again snatching it away!"

"Compose your mind," lady Feng observed grinning, "for the Imperial

Consort has hinted that directions should be given for the planting, in

the north-east corner of the park, of a further plentiful supply of pine

and cedar trees, and that orders should also be issued for the addition,

round the base of the tower, of a large number of flowers and plants and

such like; and when this job turns up, I can safely tell you that Yun

Erh will be called to assume control of these works."

"Well if that be really so," Chia Lien rejoined, "it will after all do!

But there's only one thing; all I was up to last night was simply to

have some fun with you, but you obstinately and perversely wouldn't."

Lady Feng, upon hearing these words, burst out laughing with a sound of

Ch'ih, and spurting disdainfully at Chia Lien, she lowered her head and

went on at once with her meal; during which time Chia Lien speedily

walked away laughing the while, and betook himself to the front, where

he saw Chia Cheng. It was, indeed, about the young bonzes, and Chia Lien

readily carried out lady Feng's suggestion. "As from all appearances,"

he continued, "Ch'in Erh has, actually, so vastly improved, this job

should, after all, be entrusted to his care and management; and provided

that in observance with the inside custom Ch'in Erh were each day told

to receive the advances, things will go on all right." And as Chia Cheng

had never had much attention to give to such matters of detail, he, as

soon as he heard what Chia Lien had to say, immediately signified his

approval and assent. And Chia Lien, on his return to his quarters,

communicated the issue to lady Feng; whereupon lady Feng at once sent

some one to go and notify dame Chou.

Chia Ch'in came, in due course, to pay a visit to Chia Lien and his

wife, and was incessant in his expressions of gratitude; and lady Feng

bestowed upon him a further favour by giving him, as a first instalment,

an advance of the funds necessary for three months' outlay, for which

she bade him write a receipt; while Chia Lien filled up a cheque and

signed it; and a counter-order was simultaneously issued, and he came

out into the treasury where the sum specified for three months'

supplies, amounting to three hundred taels, was paid out in pure ingots.

Chia Ch'in took the first piece of silver that came under his hand, and

gave it to the men in charge of the scales, with which he told them to

have a cup of tea, and bidding, shortly after, a boy-servant take the

money to his home, he held consultation with his mother; after which, he

hired a donkey for himself to ride on, and also bespoke several

carriages, and came to the back gate of the Jung Kuo mansion; where

having called out the twenty young priests, they got into the carriages,

and sped straightway beyond the city walls, to the Temple of the Iron

Fence, where nothing of any note transpired at the time.

But we will now notice Chia Yüan-ch'un, within the precincts of the

Palace. When she had arranged the verses composed in the park of Broad

Vista in their order of merit, she suddenly recollected that the sights

in the garden were sure, ever since her visit through them, to be

diligently and respectfully kept locked up by her father and mother; and

that by not allowing any one to go in was not an injustice done to this

garden? "Besides," (she pondered), "in that household, there are at

present several young ladies, capable of composing odes, and able to

write poetry, and why should not permission be extended to them to go

and take their quarters in it; in order too that those winsome persons

might not be deprived of good cheer, and that the flowers and willows

may not lack any one to admire them!"

But remembering likewise that Pao-yü had from his infancy grown up among

that crowd of female cousins, and was such a contrast to the rest of his

male cousins that were he not allowed to move into it, he would, she

also apprehended, be made to feel forlorn; and dreading lest his

grandmother and his mother should be displeased at heart, she thought it

imperative that he too should be permitted to take up his quarters

inside, so that things should be put on a satisfactory footing; and

directing the eunuch Hsia Chung to go to the Jung mansion and deliver

her commands, she expressed the wish that Pao-ch'ai and the other girls

should live in the garden and that it should not be kept closed, and

urged that Pao-yü should also shift into it, at his own pleasure, for

the prosecution of his studies. And Chia Cheng and madame Wang, upon

receiving her commands, hastened, after the departure of Hsia Chung, to

explain them to dowager lady Chia, and to despatch servants into the

garden to tidy every place, to dust, to sweep, and to lay out the

portieres and bed-curtains. The tidings were heard by the rest even with

perfect equanimity, but Pao-yü was immoderately delighted; and he was

engaged in deliberation with dowager lady Chia as to this necessary and

to that requirement, when suddenly they descried a waiting-maid arrive,

who announced: "Master wishes to see Pao-yü."

Pao-yü gazed vacantly for a while. His spirits simultaneously were swept

away; his countenance changed colour; and clinging to old lady Chia, he

readily wriggled her about, just as one would twist the sugar (to make

sweetmeats with), and could not, for the very death of him, summon up

courage to go; so that her ladyship had no alternative but to try and

reassure him. "My precious darling" she urged, "just you go, and I'll

stand by you! He won't venture to be hard upon you; and besides, you've

devised these excellent literary compositions; and I presume as Her

Majesty has desired that you should move into the garden, his object is

to give you a few words of advice; simply because he fears that you

might be up to pranks in those grounds. But to all he tells you,

whatever you do, mind you acquiesce and it will be all right!"

And as she tried to compose him, she at the same time called two old

nurses and enjoined them to take Pao-yü over with due care, "And don't

let his father," she added, "frighten him!"

The old nurses expressed their obedience, and Pao-yü felt constrained to

walk ahead; and with one step scarcely progressing three inches, he

leisurely came over to this side. Strange coincidence Chia Cheng was in

madame Wang's apartments consulting with her upon some matter or other,

and Chin Ch'uan-erh, Ts'ai Yun, Ts'ai Feng, Ts'ai Luan, Hsiu Feng and

the whole number of waiting-maids were all standing outside under the

verandah. As soon as they caught sight of Pao-yü, they puckered up their

mouths and laughed at him; while Chin Ch'uan grasped Pao-yü with one

hand, and remarked in a low tone of voice: "On these lips of mine has

just been rubbed cosmetic, soaked with perfume, and are you now inclined

to lick it or not?" whereupon Ts'ai Yün pushed off Chin Ch'uan with one

shove, as she interposed laughingly, "A person's heart is at this moment

in low spirits and do you still go on cracking jokes at him? But avail

yourself of this opportunity when master is in good cheer to make haste

and get in!"

Pao-yü had no help but to sidle against the door and walk in. Chia Cheng

and madame Wang were, in fact, both in the inner rooms, and dame Chou

raised the portière. Pao-yü stepped in gingerly and perceived Chia Cheng

and madame Wang sitting opposite to each other, on the stove-couch,

engaged in conversation; while below on a row of chairs sat Ying Ch'un,

T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and Chia Huan; but though all four of them were

seated in there only T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un and Chia Huan rose to their

feet, as soon as they saw him make his appearance in the room; and when

Chia Cheng raised his eyes and noticed Pao-yü standing in front of him,

with a gait full of ease and with those winsome looks of his, so

captivating, he once again realised what a mean being Chia Huan was, and

how coarse his deportment. But suddenly he also bethought himself of

Chia Chu, and as he reflected too that madame Wang had only this son of

her own flesh and blood, upon whom she ever doated as upon a gem, and

that his own beard had already begun to get hoary, the consequence was

that he unwittingly stifled, well nigh entirely, the feeling of hatred

and dislike, which, during the few recent years he had ordinarily

fostered towards Pao-yü. And after a long pause, "Her Majesty," he

observed, "bade you day after day ramble about outside to disport

yourself, with the result that you gradually became remiss and lazy; but

now her desire is that we should keep you under strict control, and that

in prosecuting your studies in the company of your cousins in the

garden, you should carefully exert your brains to learn; so that if you

don't again attend to your duties, and mind your regular tasks, you had

better be on your guard!" Pao-yü assented several consecutive yes's;

whereupon madame Wang drew him by her side and made him sit down, and

while his three cousins resumed the seats they previously occupied:

"Have you finished all the pills you had been taking a short while

back?" madame Wang inquired, as she rubbed Pao-yü's neck.

"There's still one pill remaining," Pao-yü explained by way of reply.

"You had better," madame Wang added, "fetch ten more pills tomorrow

morning; and every day about bedtime tell Hsi Jen to give them to you;

and when you've had one you can go to sleep!"

"Ever since you, mother, bade me take them," Pao-yü rejoined, "Hsi Jen

has daily sent me one, when I was about to turn in."

"Who's this called Hsi Jen?" Chia Chen thereupon ascertained.

"She's a waiting-maid!" madame Wang answered.

"A servant girl," Chia Cheng remonstrated, "can be called by whatever

name one chooses; anything is good enough; but who's it who has started

this kind of pretentious name!"

Madame Wang noticed that Chia Cheng was not in a happy frame of mind, so

that she forthwith tried to screen matters for Pao-yü, by saying: "It's

our old lady who has originated it!"

"How can it possibly be," Chia Cheng exclaimed, "that her ladyship knows

anything about such kind of language? It must, for a certainty, be

Pao-yü!"

Pao-yü perceiving that he could not conceal the truth from him, was

under the necessity of standing up and of explaining; "As I have all

along read verses, I remembered the line written by an old poet:

"What time the smell of flowers wafts itself into man, one knows the

day is warm.

"And as this waiting-maid's surname was Hua (flower), I readily gave her

the name, on the strength of this sentiment."

"When you get back," madame Wang speedily suggested addressing Pao-yü,

"change it and have done; and you, sir, needn't lose your temper over

such a trivial matter!"

"It doesn't really matter in the least," Chia Cheng continued; "so that

there's no necessity of changing it; but it's evident that Pao-yü

doesn't apply his mind to legitimate pursuits, but mainly devotes his

energies to such voluptuous expressions and wanton verses!" And as he

finished these words, he abruptly shouted out: "You brute-like child of

retribution! Don't you yet get out of this?"

"Get away, off with you!" madame Wang in like manner hastened to urge;

"our dowager lady is waiting, I fear, for you to have her repast!"

Pao-yü assented, and, with gentle step, he withdrew out of the room,

laughing at Chin Ch'uan-erh, as he put out his tongue; and leading off

the two nurses, he went off on his way like a streak of smoke. But no

sooner had he reached the door of the corridor than he espied Hsi Jen

standing leaning against the side; who perceiving Pao-yü come back safe

and sound heaped smile upon smile, and asked: "What did he want you

for?"

"There was nothing much," Pao-yü explained, "he simply feared that I

would, when I get into the garden, be up to mischief, and he gave me all

sorts of advice;" and, as while he explained matters, they came into the

presence of lady Chia, he gave her a clear account, from first to last,

of what had transpired. But when he saw that Lin Tai-yü was at the

moment in the room, Pao-yü speedily inquired of her: "Which place do you

think best to live in?"

Tai-yü had just been cogitating on this subject, so that when she

unexpectedly heard Pao-yü's inquiry, she forthwith rejoined with a

smile: "My own idea is that the Hsio Hsiang Kuan is best; for I'm fond

of those clusters of bamboos, which hide from view the tortuous

balustrade and make the place more secluded and peaceful than any

other!"

Pao-yü at these words clapped his hands and smiled. "That just meets

with my own views!" he remarked; "I too would like you to go and live in

there; and as I am to stay in the I Hung Yuan, we two will be, in the

first place, near each other; and next, both in quiet and secluded

spots."

While the two of them were conversing, a servant came, sent over by Chia

Cheng, to report to dowager lady Chia that: "The 22nd of the second moon

was a propitious day for Pao-yü and the young ladies to shift their

quarters into the garden; that during these few days, servants should be

sent in to put things in their proper places and to clean; that Hsueh

Pao-ch'ai should put up in the Heng Wu court; that Lin Tai-yü was to

live in the Hsiao Hsiang lodge; that Chia Ying-ch'un should move into

the Cho Chin two-storied building; that T'an Ch'un should put up in the

Ch'iu Yen library; that Hsi Ch'un should take up her quarters in the

Liao Feng house; that widow Li should live in the Tao Hsiang village,

and that Pao-yü was to live in the I Hung court. That at every place two

old nurses should be added and four servant-girls; that exclusive of the

nurse and personal waiting-maid of each, there should, in addition, be

servants, whose special duties should be to put things straight and to

sweep the place; and that on the 22nd, they should all, in a body, move

into the garden."

When this season drew near, the interior of the grounds, with the

flowers waving like embroidered sashes, and the willows fanned by the

fragrant breeze, was no more as desolate and silent as it had been in

previous days; but without indulging in any further irrelevant details,

we shall now go back to Pao-yü.

Ever since he shifted his quarters into the park, his heart was full of

joy, and his mind of contentment, fostering none of those extraordinary

ideas, whose tendency could be to give birth to longings and hankerings.

Day after day, he simply indulged, in the company of his female cousins

and the waiting-maids, in either reading his books, or writing

characters, or in thrumming the lute, playing chess, drawing pictures

and scanning verses, even in drawing patterns of argus pheasants, in

embroidering phoenixes, contesting with them in searching for strange

plants, and gathering flowers, in humming poetry with gentle tone,

singing ballads with soft voice, dissecting characters, and in playing

at mora, so that, being free to go everywhere and anywhere, he was of

course completely happy. From his pen emanate four ballads on the times

of the four seasons, which, although they could not be looked upon as

first-rate, afford anyhow a correct idea of his sentiments, and a true

account of the scenery.

The ballad on the spring night runs as follows:

The silken curtains, thin as russet silk, at random are spread out.

The croak of frogs from the adjoining lane but faintly strikes the

ear.

The pillow a slight chill pervades, for rain outside the window falls.

The landscape, which now meets the eye, is like that seen in dreams by

man.

In plenteous streams the candles' tears do drop, but for whom do they

weep?

Each particle of grief felt by the flowers is due to anger against me.

It's all because the maids have by indulgence indolent been made.

The cover over me I'll pull, as I am loth to laugh and talk for long.

This is the description of the aspect of nature on a summer night:

The beauteous girl, weary of needlework, quiet is plunged in a long

dream.

The parrot in the golden cage doth shout that it is time the tea to

brew.

The lustrous windows with the musky moon like open palace-mirrors

look;

The room abounds with fumes of sandalwood and all kinds of imperial

scents.

From the cups made of amber is poured out the slippery dew from the

lotus.

The banisters of glass, the cool zephyr enjoy flapped by the willow

trees.

In the stream-spanning kiosk, the curtains everywhere all at one time

do wave.

In the vermilion tower the blinds the maidens roll, for they have made

the night's toilette.

The landscape of an autumnal evening is thus depicted:

In the interior of the Chiang Yün house are hushed all clamorous din

and noise.

The sheen, which from Selene flows, pervades the windows of carnation

gauze.

The moss-locked, streaked rocks shelter afford to the cranes, plunged

in sleep.

The dew, blown on the t'ung tree by the well, doth wet the roosting

rooks.

Wrapped in a quilt, the maid comes the gold phoenix coverlet to

spread.

The girl, who on the rails did lean, on her return drops the

kingfisher flowers!

This quiet night his eyes in sleep he cannot close, as he doth long

for wine.

The smoke is stifled, and the fire restirred, when tea is ordered to

be brewed.

The picture of a winter night is in this strain:

The sleep of the plum trees, the dream of the bamboos the third watch

have already reached.

Under the embroidered quilt and the kingfisher coverlet one can't

sleep for the cold.

The shadow of fir trees pervades the court, but cranes are all that

meet the eye.

Both far and wide the pear blossom covers the ground, but yet the hawk

cannot be heard.

The wish, verses to write, fostered by the damsel with the green

sleeves, has waxéd cold.

The master, with the gold sable pelisse, cannot endure much wine.

But yet he doth rejoice that his attendant knows the way to brew the

tea.

The newly-fallen snow is swept what time for tea the water must be

boiled.

But putting aside Pao-yü, as he leisurely was occupied in scanning some

verses, we will now allude to all these ballads. There lived, at that

time, a class of people, whose wont was to servilely court the

influential and wealthy, and who, upon perceiving that the verses were

composed by a young lad of the Jung Kuo mansion, of only twelve or

thirteen years of age, had copies made, and taking them outside sang

their praise far and wide. There were besides another sort of

light-headed young men, whose heart was so set upon licentious and

seductive lines, that they even inscribed them on fans and screen-walls,

and time and again kept on humming them and extolling them. And to the

above reasons must therefore be ascribed the fact that persons came in

search of stanzas and in quest of manuscripts, to apply for sketches and

to beg for poetical compositions, to the increasing satisfaction of

Pao-yü, who day after day, when at home, devoted his time and attention

to these extraneous matters. But who would have anticipated that he

could ever in his quiet seclusion have become a prey to a spirit of

restlessness? Of a sudden, one day he began to feel discontent, finding

fault with this and turning up his nose at that; and going in and coming

out he was simply full of ennui. And as all the girls in the garden were

just in the prime of youth, and at a time of life when, artless and

unaffected, they sat and reclined without regard to retirement, and

disported themselves and joked without heed, how could they ever have

come to read the secrets which at this time occupied a place in the

heart of Pao-yü? But so unhappy was Pao-yü within himself that he soon

felt loth to stay in the garden, and took to gadding about outside like

an evil spirit; but he behaved also the while in an idiotic manner.

Ming Yen, upon seeing him go on in this way, felt prompted, with the

idea of affording his mind some distraction, to think of this and to

devise that expedient; but everything had been indulged in with surfeit

by Pao-yü, and there was only this resource, (that suggested itself to

him,) of which Pao-yü had not as yet had any experience. Bringing his

reflections to a close, he forthwith came over to a bookshop, and

selecting novels, both of old and of the present age, traditions

intended for outside circulation on Fei Yen, Ho Te, Wu Tse-t'ien, and

Yang Kuei-fei, as well as books of light literature consisting of

strange legends, he purchased a good number of them with the express

purpose of enticing Pao-yü to read them. As soon as Pao-yü caught sight

of them, he felt as if he had obtained some gem or jewel. "But you

mustn't," Ming Yen went on to enjoin him, "take them into the garden;

for if any one were to come to know anything about them, I shall then

suffer more than I can bear; and you should, when you go along, hide

them in your clothes!"

But would Pao-yü agree to not introducing them into the garden? So after

much wavering, he picked out only several volumes of those whose style

was more refined, and took them in, and threw them over the top of his

bed for him to peruse when no one was present; while those coarse and

very indecent ones, he concealed in a bundle in the outer library.

On one day, which happened to be the middle decade of the third moon,

Pao-yü, after breakfast, took a book, the "Hui Chen Chi," in his hand

and walked as far as the bridge of the Hsin Fang lock. Seating himself

on a block of rock, that lay under the peach trees in that quarter, he

opened the Hui Chen Chi and began to read it carefully from the

beginning. But just as he came to the passage: "the falling red

(flowers) have formed a heap," he felt a gust of wind blow through the

trees, bringing down a whole bushel of peach blossoms; and, as they

fell, his whole person, the entire surface of the book as well as a

large extent of ground were simply bestrewn with petals of the blossoms.

Pao-yü was bent upon shaking them down; but as he feared lest they

should be trodden under foot, he felt constrained to carry the petals in

his coat and walk to the bank of the pond and throw them into the

stream. The petals floated on the surface of the water, and, after

whirling and swaying here and there, they at length ran out by the Hsin

Fang lock. But, on his return under the tree, he found the ground again

one mass of petals, and Pao-yü was just hesitating what to do, when he

heard some one behind his back inquire, "What are you up to here?" and

as soon as Pao-yü turned his head round, he discovered that it was Lin

Tai-yü, who had come over carrying on her shoulder a hoe for raking

flowers, that on this hoe was suspended a gauze-bag, and that in her

hand she held a broom.

"That's right, well done!" Pao-yü remarked smiling; "come and sweep

these flowers, and throw them into the water yonder. I've just thrown a

lot in there myself!"

"It isn't right," Lin Tai-yü rejoined, "to throw them into the water.

The water, which you see, is clean enough here, but as soon as it finds

its way out, where are situated other people's grounds, what isn't there

in it? so that you would be misusing these flowers just as much as if

you left them here! But in that corner, I have dug a hole for flowers,

and I'll now sweep these and put them into this gauze-bag and bury them

in there; and, in course of many days, they will also become converted

into earth, and won't this be a clean way (of disposing of them)?"

Pao-yü, after listening to these words, felt inexpressibly delighted.

"Wait!" he smiled, "until I put down my book, and I'll help you to clear

them up!"

"What's the book?" Tai-yü inquired.

Pao-yü at this question was so taken aback that he had no time to

conceal it. "It's," he replied hastily, "the Chung Yung and the Ta

Hsüeh!"

"Are you going again to play the fool with me? Be quick and give it to

me to see; and this will be ever so much better a way!"

"Cousin," Pao-yü replied, "as far as you yourself are concerned I don't

mind you, but after you've seen it, please don't tell any one else. It's

really written in beautiful style; and were you to once begin reading

it, why even for your very rice you wouldn't have a thought?"

As he spoke, he handed it to her; and Tai-yü deposited all the flowers

on the ground, took over the book, and read it from the very first page;

and the more she perused it, she got so much the more fascinated by it,

that in no time she had finished reading sixteen whole chapters. But

aroused as she was to a state of rapture by the diction, what remained

even of the fascination was enough to overpower her senses; and though

she had finished reading, she nevertheless continued in a state of

abstraction, and still kept on gently recalling the text to mind, and

humming it to herself.

"Cousin, tell me is it nice or not?" Pao-yü grinned.

"It is indeed full of zest!" Lin Tai-yü replied exultingly.

"I'm that very sad and very sickly person," Pao-yü explained laughing,

"while you are that beauty who could subvert the empire and overthrow

the city."

Lin Tai-yü became, at these words, unconsciously crimson all over her

cheeks, even up to her very ears; and raising, at the same moment, her

two eyebrows, which seemed to knit and yet not to knit, and opening wide

those eyes, which seemed to stare and yet not to stare, while her

peach-like cheeks bore an angry look and on her thin-skinned face lurked

displeasure, she pointed at Pao-yü and exclaimed: "You do deserve death,

for the rubbish you talk! without any provocation you bring up these

licentious expressions and wanton ballads to give vent to all this

insolent rot, in order to insult me; but I'll go and tell uncle and

aunt."

As soon as she pronounced the two words "insult me," her eyeballs at

once were suffused with purple, and turning herself round she there and

then walked away; which filled Pao-yü with so much distress that he

jumped forward to impede her progress, as he pleaded: "My dear cousin, I

earnestly entreat you to spare me this time! I've indeed said what I

shouldn't; but if I had any intention to insult you, I'll throw myself

to-morrow into the pond, and let the scabby-headed turtle eat me up, so

that I become transformed into a large tortoise. And when you shall have

by and by become the consort of an officer of the first degree, and you

shall have fallen ill from old age and returned to the west, I'll come

to your tomb and bear your stone tablet for ever on my back!"

As he uttered these words, Lin Tai-yü burst out laughing with a sound of

"pu ch'ih," and rubbing her eyes, she sneeringly remarked: "I too can

come out with this same tune; but will you now still go on talking

nonsense? Pshaw! you're, in very truth, like a spear-head, (which looks)

like silver, (but is really soft as) wax!"

"Go on, go on!" Pao-yü smiled after this remark; "and what you've said,

I too will go and tell!"

"You maintain," Lin Tai-yü rejoined sarcastically, "that after glancing

at anything you're able to recite it; and do you mean to say that I

can't even do so much as take in ten lines with one gaze?"

Pao-yü smiled and put his book away, urging: "Let's do what's right and

proper, and at once take the flowers and bury them; and don't let us

allude to these things!"

Forthwith the two of them gathered the fallen blossoms; but no sooner

had they interred them properly than they espied Hsi Jen coming, who

went on to observe: "Where haven't I looked for you? What! have you

found your way as far as this! But our senior master, Mr. Chia She, over

there isn't well; and the young ladies have all gone over to pay their

respects, and our old lady has asked that you should be sent over; so go

back at once and change your clothes!"

When Pao-yü heard what she said, he hastily picked up his books, and

saying good bye to Tai-yü, he came along with Hsi Jen, back into his

room, where we will leave him to effect the necessary change in his

costume. But during this while, Lin Tai-yü was, after having seen Pao-yü

walk away, and heard that all her cousins were likewise not in their

rooms, wending her way back alone, in a dull and dejected mood, towards

her apartment, when upon reaching the outside corner of the wall of the

Pear Fragrance court, she caught, issuing from inside the walls, the

harmonious strains of the fife and the melodious modulations of voices

singing. Lin Tai-yü readily knew that it was the twelve singing-girls

rehearsing a play; and though she did not give her mind to go and

listen, yet a couple of lines were of a sudden blown into her ears, and

with such clearness, that even one word did not escape. Their burden was

this:

These troth are beauteous purple and fine carmine flowers, which in

this way all round do bloom,

And all together lie ensconced along the broken well, and the

dilapidated wall!

But the moment Lin Tai-yü heard these lines, she was, in fact, so

intensely affected and agitated that she at once halted and lending an

ear listened attentively to what they went on to sing, which ran thus:

A glorious day this is, and pretty scene, but sad I feel at heart!

Contentment and pleasure are to be found in whose family courts?

After overhearing these two lines, she unconsciously nodded her head,

and sighed, and mused in her own mind. "Really," she thought, "there is

fine diction even in plays! but unfortunately what men in this world

simply know is to see a play, and they don't seem to be able to enjoy

the beauties contained in them."

At the conclusion of this train of thought, she experienced again a

sting of regret, (as she fancied) she should not have given way to such

idle thoughts and missed attending to the ballads; but when she once

more came to listen, the song, by some coincidence, went on thus:

It's all because thy loveliness is like a flower and like the comely

spring,

That years roll swiftly by just like a running stream.

When this couplet struck Tai-yu's ear, her heart felt suddenly a prey to

excitement and her soul to emotion; and upon further hearing the words:

Alone you sit in the secluded inner rooms to self-compassion giving

way.

--and other such lines, she became still more as if inebriated, and like

as if out of her head, and unable to stand on her feet, she speedily

stooped her body, and, taking a seat on a block of stone, she minutely

pondered over the rich beauty of the eight characters:

It's all because thy loveliness is like a flower and like the comely

spring,

That years roll swiftly by just like a running stream.

Of a sudden, she likewise bethought herself of the line:

Water flows away and flowers decay, for both no feelings have.

--which she had read some days back in a poem of an ancient writer, and

also of the passage:

When on the running stream the flowers do fall, spring then is past

and gone;

--and of:

Heaven (differs from) the human race,

--which also appeared in that work; and besides these, the lines, which

she had a short while back read in the Hsi Hiang Chi:

The flowers, lo, fall, and on their course the waters red do flow!

Petty misfortunes of ten thousand kinds (my heart assail!)

both simultaneously flashed through her memory; and, collating them all

together, she meditated on them minutely, until suddenly her heart was

stricken with pain and her soul fleeted away, while from her eyes

trickled down drops of tears. But while nothing could dispel her present

state of mind, she unexpectedly realised that some one from behind gave

her a tap; and, turning her head round to look, she found that it was a

young girl; but who it was, the next chapter will make known.