CapĆtulo 1
CHAPTER I.
Chen Shih-yin, in a vision, apprehends perception and spirituality.
Chia YĆ¼-ts'un, in the (windy and dusty) world, cherishes fond thoughts
of a beautiful maiden.
This is the opening section; this the first chapter. Subsequent to the
visions of a dream which he had, on some previous occasion, experienced,
the writer personally relates, he designedly concealed the true
circumstances, and borrowed the attributes of perception and
spirituality to relate this story of the Record of the Stone. With this
purpose, he made use of such designations as Chen Shih-yin (truth under
the garb of fiction) and the like. What are, however, the events
recorded in this work? Who are the dramatis personae?
Wearied with the drudgery experienced of late in the world, the author
speaking for himself, goes on to explain, with the lack of success which
attended every single concern, I suddenly bethought myself of the
womankind of past ages. Passing one by one under a minute scrutiny, I
felt that in action and in lore, one and all were far above me; that in
spite of the majesty of my manliness, I could not, in point of fact,
compare with these characters of the gentle sex. And my shame forsooth
then knew no bounds; while regret, on the other hand, was of no avail,
as there was not even a remote possibility of a day of remedy.
On this very day it was that I became desirous to compile, in a
connected form, for publication throughout the world, with a view to
(universal) information, how that I bear inexorable and manifold
retribution; inasmuch as what time, by the sustenance of the benevolence
of Heaven, and the virtue of my ancestors, my apparel was rich and fine,
and as what days my fare was savory and sumptuous, I disregarded the
bounty of education and nurture of father and mother, and paid no heed
to the virtue of precept and injunction of teachers and friends, with
the result that I incurred the punishment, of failure recently in the
least trifle, and the reckless waste of half my lifetime. There have
been meanwhile, generation after generation, those in the inner
chambers, the whole mass of whom could not, on any account, be, through
my influence, allowed to fall into extinction, in order that I, unfilial
as I have been, may have the means to screen my own shortcomings.
Hence it is that the thatched shed, with bamboo mat windows, the bed of
tow and the stove of brick, which are at present my share, are not
sufficient to deter me from carrying out the fixed purpose of my mind.
And could I, furthermore, confront the morning breeze, the evening moon,
the willows by the steps and the flowers in the courtyard, methinks
these would moisten to a greater degree my mortal pen with ink; but
though I lack culture and erudition, what harm is there, however, in
employing fiction and unrecondite language to give utterance to the
merits of these characters? And were I also able to induce the inmates
of the inner chamber to understand and diffuse them, could I besides
break the weariness of even so much as a single moment, or could I open
the eyes of my contemporaries, will it not forsooth prove a boon?
This consideration has led to the usage of such names as Chia YĆ¼-ts'un
and other similar appellations.
More than any in these pages have been employed such words as dreams and
visions; but these dreams constitute the main argument of this work, and
combine, furthermore, the design of giving a word of warning to my
readers.
Reader, can you suggest whence the story begins?
The narration may border on the limits of incoherency and triviality,
but it possesses considerable zest. But to begin.
The Empress NĆ¼ Wo, (the goddess of works,) in fashioning blocks of
stones, for the repair of the heavens, prepared, at the Ta Huang Hills
and Wu Ch'i cave, 36,501 blocks of rough stone, each twelve chang in
height, and twenty-four chang square. Of these stones, the Empress Wo
only used 36,500; so that one single block remained over and above,
without being turned to any account. This was cast down the Ch'ing Keng
peak. This stone, strange to say, after having undergone a process of
refinement, attained a nature of efficiency, and could, by its innate
powers, set itself into motion and was able to expand and to contract.
When it became aware that the whole number of blocks had been made use
of to repair the heavens, that it alone had been destitute of the
necessary properties and had been unfit to attain selection, it
forthwith felt within itself vexation and shame, and day and night, it
gave way to anguish and sorrow.
One day, while it lamented its lot, it suddenly caught sight, at a great
distance, of a Buddhist bonze and of a Taoist priest coming towards that
direction. Their appearance was uncommon, their easy manner remarkable.
When they drew near this Ch'ing Keng peak, they sat on the ground to
rest, and began to converse. But on noticing the block newly-polished
and brilliantly clear, which had moreover contracted in dimensions, and
become no larger than the pendant of a fan, they were greatly filled
with admiration. The Buddhist priest picked it up, and laid it in the
palm of his hand.
"Your appearance," he said laughingly, "may well declare you to be a
supernatural object, but as you lack any inherent quality it is
necessary to inscribe a few characters on you, so that every one who
shall see you may at once recognise you to be a remarkable thing. And
subsequently, when you will be taken into a country where honour and
affluence will reign, into a family cultured in mind and of official
status, in a land where flowers and trees shall flourish with
luxuriance, in a town of refinement, renown and glory; when you once
will have been there..."
The stone listened with intense delight.
"What characters may I ask," it consequently inquired, "will you
inscribe? and what place will I be taken to? pray, pray explain to me in
lucid terms." "You mustn't be inquisitive," the bonze replied, with a
smile, "in days to come you'll certainly understand everything." Having
concluded these words, he forthwith put the stone in his sleeve, and
proceeded leisurely on his journey, in company with the Taoist priest.
Whither, however, he took the stone, is not divulged. Nor can it be
known how many centuries and ages elapsed, before a Taoist priest, K'ung
K'ung by name, passed, during his researches after the eternal reason
and his quest after immortality, by these Ta Huang Hills, Wu Ch'i cave
and Ch'ing Keng Peak. Suddenly perceiving a large block of stone, on the
surface of which the traces of characters giving, in a connected form,
the various incidents of its fate, could be clearly deciphered, K'ung
K'ung examined them from first to last. They, in fact, explained how
that this block of worthless stone had originally been devoid of the
properties essential for the repairs to the heavens, how it would be
transmuted into human form and introduced by Mang Mang the High Lord,
and Miao Miao, the Divine, into the world of mortals, and how it would
be led over the other bank (across the San Sara). On the surface, the
record of the spot where it would fall, the place of its birth, as well
as various family trifles and trivial love affairs of young ladies,
verses, odes, speeches and enigmas was still complete; but the name of
the dynasty and the year of the reign were obliterated, and could not be
ascertained.
On the obverse, were also the following enigmatical verses:
Lacking in virtues meet the azure skies to mend,
In vain the mortal world full many a year I wend,
Of a former and after life these facts that be,
Who will for a tradition strange record for me?
K'ung K'ung, the Taoist, having pondered over these lines for a while,
became aware that this stone had a history of some kind.
"Brother stone," he forthwith said, addressing the stone, "the concerns
of past days recorded on you possess, according to your own account, a
considerable amount of interest, and have been for this reason
inscribed, with the intent of soliciting generations to hand them down
as remarkable occurrences. But in my own opinion, they lack, in the
first place, any data by means of which to establish the name of the
Emperor and the year of his reign; and, in the second place, these
constitute no record of any excellent policy, adopted by any high
worthies or high loyal statesmen, in the government of the state, or in
the rule of public morals. The contents simply treat of a certain number
of maidens, of exceptional character; either of their love affairs or
infatuations, or of their small deserts or insignificant talents; and
were I to transcribe the whole collection of them, they would,
nevertheless, not be estimated as a book of any exceptional worth."
"Sir Priest," the stone replied with assurance, "why are you so
excessively dull? The dynasties recorded in the rustic histories, which
have been written from age to age, have, I am fain to think, invariably
assumed, under false pretences, the mere nomenclature of the Han and
T'ang dynasties. They differ from the events inscribed on my block,
which do not borrow this customary practice, but, being based on my own
experiences and natural feelings, present, on the contrary, a novel and
unique character. Besides, in the pages of these rustic histories,
either the aspersions upon sovereigns and statesmen, or the strictures
upon individuals, their wives, and their daughters, or the deeds of
licentiousness and violence are too numerous to be computed. Indeed,
there is one more kind of loose literature, the wantonness and pollution
in which work most easy havoc upon youth.
"As regards the works, in which the characters of scholars and beauties
is delineated their allusions are again repeatedly of Wen ChĆ¼n, their
theme in every page of Tzu Chien; a thousand volumes present no
diversity; and a thousand characters are but a counterpart of each
other. What is more, these works, throughout all their pages, cannot
help bordering on extreme licence. The authors, however, had no other
object in view than to give utterance to a few sentimental odes and
elegant ballads of their own, and for this reason they have fictitiously
invented the names and surnames of both men and women, and necessarily
introduced, in addition, some low characters, who should, like a buffoon
in a play, create some excitement in the plot.
"Still more loathsome is a kind of pedantic and profligate literature,
perfectly devoid of all natural sentiment, full of self-contradictions;
and, in fact, the contrast to those maidens in my work, whom I have,
during half my lifetime, seen with my own eyes and heard with my own
ears. And though I will not presume to estimate them as superior to the
heroes and heroines in the works of former ages, yet the perusal of the
motives and issues of their experiences, may likewise afford matter
sufficient to banish dulness, and to break the spell of melancholy.
"As regards the several stanzas of doggerel verse, they may too evoke
such laughter as to compel the reader to blurt out the rice, and to
spurt out the wine.
"In these pages, the scenes depicting the anguish of separation, the
bliss of reunion, and the fortunes of prosperity and of adversity are
all, in every detail, true to human nature, and I have not taken upon
myself to make the slightest addition, or alteration, which might lead
to the perversion of the truth.
"My only object has been that men may, after a drinking bout, or after
they wake from sleep or when in need of relaxation from the pressure of
business, take up this light literature, and not only expunge the traces
of antiquated books, and obtain a new kind of distraction, but that they
may also lay by a long life as well as energy and strength; for it bears
no point of similarity to those works, whose designs are false, whose
course is immoral. Now, Sir Priest, what are your views on the subject?"
K'ung K'ung having pondered for a while over the words, to which he had
listened intently, re-perused, throughout, this record of the stone; and
finding that the general purport consisted of nought else than a
treatise on love, and likewise of an accurate transcription of facts,
without the least taint of profligacy injurious to the times, he
thereupon copied the contents, from beginning to end, to the intent of
charging the world to hand them down as a strange story.
Hence it was that K'ung K'ung, the Taoist, in consequence of his
perception, (in his state of) abstraction, of passion, the generation,
from this passion, of voluptuousness, the transmission of this
voluptuousness into passion, and the apprehension, by means of passion,
of its unreality, forthwith altered his name for that of "Ch'ing Tseng"
(the Voluptuous Bonze), and changed the title of "the Memoir of a Stone"
(Shih-t'ou-chi,) for that of "Ch'ing Tseng Lu," The Record of the
Voluptuous Bonze; while K'ung Mei-chi of Tung Lu gave it the name of
"Feng YĆ¼eh Pao Chien," "The Precious Mirror of Voluptuousness." In later
years, owing to the devotion by Tsao HsĆ¼eh-ch'in in the Tao Hung study,
of ten years to the perusal and revision of the work, the additions and
modifications effected by him five times, the affix of an index and the
division into periods and chapters, the book was again entitled "Chin
Ling Shih Erh Ch'ai," "The Twelve Maidens of Chin Ling." A stanza was
furthermore composed for the purpose. This then, and no other, is the
origin of the Record of the Stone. The poet says appositely:--
Pages full of silly litter,
Tears a handful sour and bitter;
All a fool the author hold,
But their zest who can unfold?
You have now understood the causes which brought about the Record of the
Stone, but as you are not, as yet, aware what characters are depicted,
and what circumstances are related on the surface of the block, reader,
please lend an ear to the narrative on the stone, which runs as
follows:--
In old days, the land in the South East lay low. In this South-East part
of the world, was situated a walled town, Ku Su by name. Within the
walls a locality, called the Ch'ang Men, was more than all others
throughout the mortal world, the centre, which held the second, if not
the first place for fashion and life. Beyond this Ch'ang Men was a
street called Shih-li-chieh (Ten Li street); in this street a lane,
the Jen Ch'ing lane (Humanity and Purity); and in this lane stood an old
temple, which on account of its diminutive dimensions, was called, by
general consent, the Gourd temple. Next door to this temple lived the
family of a district official, Chen by surname, Fei by name, and
Shih-yin by style. His wife, nƩe Feng, possessed a worthy and virtuous
disposition, and had a clear perception of moral propriety and good
conduct. This family, though not in actual possession of excessive
affluence and honours, was, nevertheless, in their district, conceded to
be a clan of well-to-do standing. As this Chen Shih-yin was of a
contented and unambitious frame of mind, and entertained no hankering
after any official distinction, but day after day of his life took
delight in gazing at flowers, planting bamboos, sipping his wine and
conning poetical works, he was in fact, in the indulgence of these
pursuits, as happy as a supernatural being.
One thing alone marred his happiness. He had lived over half a century
and had, as yet, no male offspring around his knees. He had one only
child, a daughter, whose infant name was Ying Lien. She was just three
years of age. On a long summer day, on which the heat had been intense,
Shih-yin sat leisurely in his library. Feeling his hand tired, he
dropped the book he held, leant his head on a teapoy, and fell asleep.
Of a sudden, while in this state of unconsciousness, it seemed as if he
had betaken himself on foot to some spot or other whither he could not
discriminate. Unexpectedly he espied, in the opposite direction, two
priests coming towards him: the one a Buddhist, the other a Taoist. As
they advanced they kept up the conversation in which they were engaged.
"Whither do you purpose taking the object you have brought away?" he
heard the Taoist inquire. To this question the Buddhist replied with a
smile: "Set your mind at ease," he said; "there's now in maturity a plot
of a general character involving mundane pleasures, which will presently
come to a denouement. The whole number of the votaries of voluptuousness
have, as yet, not been quickened or entered the world, and I mean to
avail myself of this occasion to introduce this object among their
number, so as to give it a chance to go through the span of human
existence." "The votaries of voluptuousness of these days will naturally
have again to endure the ills of life during their course through the
mortal world," the Taoist remarked; "but when, I wonder, will they
spring into existence? and in what place will they descend?"
"The account of these circumstances," the bonze ventured to reply, "is
enough to make you laugh! They amount to this: there existed in the
west, on the bank of the Ling (spiritual) river, by the side of the San
Sheng (thrice-born) stone, a blade of the Chiang Chu (purple pearl)
grass. At about the same time it was that the block of stone was,
consequent upon its rejection by the goddess of works, also left to
ramble and wander to its own gratification, and to roam about at
pleasure to every and any place. One day it came within the precincts of
the Ching Huan (Monitory Vision) Fairy; and this Fairy, cognizant of the
fact that this stone had a history, detained it, therefore, to reside at
the Ch'ih Hsia (purple clouds) palace, and apportioned to it the duties
of attendant on Shen Ying, a fairy of the Ch'ih Hsia palace.
"This stone would, however, often stroll along the banks of the Ling
river, and having at the sight of the blade of spiritual grass been
filled with admiration, it, day by day, moistened its roots with sweet
dew. This purple pearl grass, at the outset, tarried for months and
years; but being at a later period imbued with the essence and
luxuriance of heaven and earth, and having incessantly received the
moisture and nurture of the sweet dew, divested itself, in course of
time, of the form of a grass; assuming, in lieu, a human nature, which
gradually became perfected into the person of a girl.
"Every day she was wont to wander beyond the confines of the Li Hen
(divested animosities) heavens. When hungry she fed on the Pi Ch'ing
(hidden love) fruit--when thirsty she drank the Kuan ch'ou (discharged
sorrows,) water. Having, however, up to this time, not shewn her
gratitude for the virtue of nurture lavished upon her, the result was
but natural that she should resolve in her heart upon a constant and
incessant purpose to make suitable acknowledgment.
"I have been," she would often commune within herself, "the recipient of
the gracious bounty of rain and dew, but I possess no such water as was
lavished upon me to repay it! But should it ever descend into the world
in the form of a human being, I will also betake myself thither, along
with it; and if I can only have the means of making restitution to it,
with the tears of a whole lifetime, I may be able to make adequate
return."
"This resolution it is that will evolve the descent into the world of so
many pleasure-bound spirits of retribution and the experience of
fantastic destinies; and this crimson pearl blade will also be among the
number. The stone still lies in its original place, and why should not
you and I take it along before the tribunal of the Monitory Vision
Fairy, and place on its behalf its name on record, so that it should
descend into the world, in company with these spirits of passion, and
bring this plot to an issue?"
"It is indeed ridiculous," interposed the Taoist. "Never before have I
heard even the very mention of restitution by means of tears! Why should
not you and I avail ourselves of this opportunity to likewise go down
into the world? and if successful in effecting the salvation of a few of
them, will it not be a work meritorious and virtuous?"
"This proposal," remarked the Buddhist, "is quite in harmony with my own
views. Come along then with me to the palace of the Monitory Vision
Fairy, and let us deliver up this good-for-nothing object, and have done
with it! And when the company of pleasure-bound spirits of wrath descend
into human existence, you and I can then enter the world. Half of them
have already fallen into the dusty universe, but the whole number of
them have not, as yet, come together."
"Such being the case," the Taoist acquiesced, "I am ready to follow you,
whenever you please to go."
But to return to Chen Shih-yin. Having heard every one of these words
distinctly, he could not refrain from forthwith stepping forward and
paying homage. "My spiritual lords," he said, as he smiled, "accept my
obeisance." The Buddhist and Taoist priests lost no time in responding
to the compliment, and they exchanged the usual salutations. "My
spiritual lords," Shih-yin continued; "I have just heard the
conversation that passed between you, on causes and effects, a
conversation the like of which few mortals have forsooth listened to;
but your younger brother is sluggish of intellect, and cannot lucidly
fathom the import! Yet could this dulness and simplicity be graciously
dispelled, your younger brother may, by listening minutely, with
undefiled ear and careful attention, to a certain degree be aroused to a
sense of understanding; and what is more, possibly find the means of
escaping the anguish of sinking down into Hades."
The two spirits smiled, "The conversation," they added, "refers to the
primordial scheme and cannot be divulged before the proper season; but,
when the time comes, mind do not forget us two, and you will readily be
able to escape from the fiery furnace."
Shih-yin, after this reply, felt it difficult to make any further
inquiries. "The primordial scheme," he however remarked smiling,
"cannot, of course, be divulged; but what manner of thing, I wonder, is
the good-for-nothing object you alluded to a short while back? May I not
be allowed to judge for myself?"
"This object about which you ask," the Buddhist Bonze responded, "is
intended, I may tell you, by fate to be just glanced at by you." With
these words he produced it, and handed it over to Shih-yin.
Shih-yin received it. On scrutiny he found it, in fact, to be a
beautiful gem, so lustrous and so clear that the traces of characters on
the surface were distinctly visible. The characters inscribed consisted
of the four "T'ung Ling Pao YĆ¼," "Precious Gem of Spiritual Perception."
On the obverse, were also several columns of minute words, which he was
just in the act of looking at intently, when the Buddhist at once
expostulated.
"We have already reached," he exclaimed, "the confines of vision."
Snatching it violently out of his hands, he walked away with the Taoist,
under a lofty stone portal, on the face of which appeared in large type
the four characters: "T'ai HsĆ¼ Huan Ching," "The Visionary limits of the
Great Void." On each side was a scroll with the lines:
When falsehood stands for truth, truth likewise becomes false,
Where naught be made to aught, aught changes into naught.
Shih-yin meant also to follow them on the other side, but, as he was
about to make one step forward, he suddenly heard a crash, just as if
the mountains had fallen into ruins, and the earth sunk into
destruction. As Shih-yin uttered a loud shout, he looked with strained
eye; but all he could see was the fiery sun shining, with glowing rays,
while the banana leaves drooped their heads. By that time, half of the
circumstances connected with the dream he had had, had already slipped
from his memory.
He also noticed a nurse coming towards him with Ying Lien in her arms.
To Shih-yin's eyes his daughter appeared even more beautiful, such a
bright gem, so precious, and so lovable. Forthwith stretching out his
arms, he took her over, and, as he held her in his embrace, he coaxed
her to play with him for a while; after which he brought her up to the
street to see the great stir occasioned by the procession that was going
past.
He was about to come in, when he caught sight of two priests, one a
Taoist, the other a Buddhist, coming hither from the opposite direction.
The Buddhist had a head covered with mange, and went barefooted. The
Taoist had a limping foot, and his hair was all dishevelled.
Like maniacs, they jostled along, chattering and laughing as they drew
near.
As soon as they reached Shih-yin's door, and they perceived him with
Ying Lien in his arms, the Bonze began to weep aloud.
Turning towards Shih-yin, he said to him: "My good Sir, why need you
carry in your embrace this living but luckless thing, which will involve
father and mother in trouble?"
These words did not escape Shih-yin's ear; but persuaded that they
amounted to raving talk, he paid no heed whatever to the bonze.
"Part with her and give her to me," the Buddhist still went on to say.
Shih-yin could not restrain his annoyance; and hastily pressing his
daughter closer to him, he was intent upon going in, when the bonze
pointed his hand at him, and burst out in a loud fit of laughter.
He then gave utterance to the four lines that follow:
You indulge your tender daughter and are laughed at as inane;
Vain you face the snow, oh mirror! for it will evanescent wane,
When the festival of lanterns is gone by, guard 'gainst your doom,
'Tis what time the flames will kindle, and the fire will consume.
Shih-yin understood distinctly the full import of what he heard; but his
heart was still full of conjectures. He was about to inquire who and
what they were, when he heard the Taoist remark,--"You and I cannot
speed together; let us now part company, and each of us will be then
able to go after his own business. After the lapse of three ages, I
shall be at the Pei Mang mount, waiting for you; and we can, after our
reunion, betake ourselves to the Visionary Confines of the Great Void,
there to cancel the name of the stone from the records."
"Excellent! first rate!" exclaimed the Bonze. And at the conclusion of
these words, the two men parted, each going his own way, and no trace
was again seen of them.
"These two men," Shih-yin then pondered within his heart, "must have had
many experiences, and I ought really to have made more inquiries of
them; but at this juncture to indulge in regret is anyhow too late."
While Shih-yin gave way to these foolish reflections, he suddenly
noticed the arrival of a penniless scholar, Chia by surname, Hua by
name, Shih-fei by style and YĆ¼-ts'un by nickname, who had taken up his
quarters in the Gourd temple next door. This Chia YĆ¼-ts'un was
originally a denizen of Hu-Chow, and was also of literary and official
parentage, but as he was born of the youngest stock, and the possessions
of his paternal and maternal ancestors were completely exhausted, and
his parents and relatives were dead, he remained the sole and only
survivor; and, as he found his residence in his native place of no
avail, he therefore entered the capital in search of that reputation,
which would enable him to put the family estate on a proper standing. He
had arrived at this place since the year before last, and had, what is
more, lived all along in very straitened circumstances. He had made the
temple his temporary quarters, and earned a living by daily occupying
himself in composing documents and writing letters for customers. Thus
it was that Shih-yin had been in constant relations with him.
As soon as YĆ¼-ts'un perceived Shih-yin, he lost no time in saluting him.
"My worthy Sir," he observed with a forced smile; "how is it you are
leaning against the door and looking out? Is there perchance any news
astir in the streets, or in the public places?"
"None whatever," replied Shih-yin, as he returned the smile. "Just a
while back, my young daughter was in sobs, and I coaxed her out here to
amuse her. I am just now without anything whatever to attend to, so
that, dear brother Chia, you come just in the nick of time. Please walk
into my mean abode, and let us endeavour, in each other's company, to
while away this long summer day."
After he had made this remark, he bade a servant take his daughter in,
while he, hand-in-hand with YĆ¼-ts'un, walked into the library, where a
young page served tea. They had hardly exchanged a few sentences, when
one of the household came in, in flying haste, to announce that Mr. Yen
had come to pay a visit.
Shih-yin at once stood up. "Pray excuse my rudeness," he remarked
apologetically, "but do sit down; I shall shortly rejoin you, and enjoy
the pleasure of your society." "My dear Sir," answered YĆ¼-ts'un, as he
got up, also in a conceding way, "suit your own convenience. I've often
had the honour of being your guest, and what will it matter if I wait a
little?" While these apologies were yet being spoken, Shih-yin had
already walked out into the front parlour. During his absence, YĆ¼-ts'un
occupied himself in turning over the pages of some poetical work to
dispel ennui, when suddenly he heard, outside the window, a woman's
cough. YĆ¼-ts'un hurriedly got up and looked out. He saw at a glance that
it was a servant girl engaged in picking flowers. Her deportment was out
of the common; her eyes so bright, her eyebrows so well defined. Though
not a perfect beauty, she possessed nevertheless charms sufficient to
arouse the feelings. YĆ¼-ts'un unwittingly gazed at her with fixed eye.
This waiting-maid, belonging to the Chen family, had done picking
flowers, and was on the point of going in, when she of a sudden raised
her eyes and became aware of the presence of some person inside the
window, whose head-gear consisted of a turban in tatters, while his
clothes were the worse for wear. But in spite of his poverty, he was
naturally endowed with a round waist, a broad back, a fat face, a square
mouth; added to this, his eyebrows were swordlike, his eyes resembled
stars, his nose was straight, his cheeks square.
This servant girl turned away in a hurry and made her escape.
"This man so burly and strong," she communed within herself, "yet at the
same time got up in such poor attire, must, I expect, be no one else
than the man, whose name is Chia YĆ¼-ts'un or such like, time after time
referred to by my master, and to whom he has repeatedly wished to give a
helping hand, but has failed to find a favourable opportunity. And as
related to our family there is no connexion or friend in such straits, I
feel certain it cannot be any other person than he. Strange to say, my
master has further remarked that this man will, for a certainty, not
always continue in such a state of destitution."
As she indulged in this train of thought, she could not restrain herself
from turning her head round once or twice.
When YĆ¼-ts'un perceived that she had looked back, he readily interpreted
it as a sign that in her heart her thoughts had been of him, and he was
frantic with irrepressible joy.
"This girl," he mused, "is, no doubt, keen-eyed and eminently shrewd,
and one in this world who has seen through me."
The servant youth, after a short time, came into the room; and when
YĆ¼-ts'un made inquiries and found out from him that the guests in the
front parlour had been detained to dinner, he could not very well wait
any longer, and promptly walked away down a side passage and out of a
back door.
When the guests had taken their leave, Shih-yin did not go back to
rejoin YĆ¼-ts'un, as he had come to know that he had already left.
In time the mid-autumn festivities drew near; and Shih-yin, after the
family banquet was over, had a separate table laid in the library, and
crossed over, in the moonlight, as far as the temple and invited
YĆ¼-ts'un to come round.
The fact is that YĆ¼-ts'un, ever since the day on which he had seen the
girl of the Chen family turn twice round to glance at him, flattered
himself that she was friendly disposed towards him, and incessantly
fostered fond thoughts of her in his heart. And on this day, which
happened to be the mid-autumn feast, he could not, as he gazed at the
moon, refrain from cherishing her remembrance. Hence it was that he gave
vent to these pentameter verses:
Alas! not yet divined my lifelong wish,
And anguish ceaseless comes upon anguish
I came, and sad at heart, my brow I frowned;
She went, and oft her head to look turned round.
Facing the breeze, her shadow she doth watch,
Who's meet this moonlight night with her to match?
The lustrous rays if they my wish but read
Would soon alight upon her beauteous head!
YĆ¼-ts'un having, after this recitation, recalled again to mind how that
throughout his lifetime his literary attainments had had an adverse fate
and not met with an opportunity (of reaping distinction), went on to rub
his brow, and as he raised his eyes to the skies, he heaved a deep sigh
and once more intoned a couplet aloud:
The gem in the cask a high price it seeks,
The pin in the case to take wing it waits.
As luck would have it, Shih-yin was at the moment approaching, and upon
hearing the lines, he said with a smile: "My dear YĆ¼-ts'un, really your
attainments are of no ordinary capacity."
YĆ¼-ts'un lost no time in smiling and replying. "It would be presumption
in my part to think so," he observed. "I was simply at random humming a
few verses composed by former writers, and what reason is there to laud
me to such an excessive degree? To what, my dear Sir, do I owe the
pleasure of your visit?" he went on to inquire. "Tonight," replied
Shih-yin, "is the mid-autumn feast, generally known as the full-moon
festival; and as I could not help thinking that living, as you my worthy
brother are, as a mere stranger in this Buddhist temple, you could not
but experience the feeling of loneliness. I have, for the express
purpose, prepared a small entertainment, and will be pleased if you will
come to my mean abode to have a glass of wine. But I wonder whether you
will entertain favourably my modest invitation?" YĆ¼-ts'un, after
listening to the proposal, put forward no refusal of any sort; but
remarked complacently: "Being the recipient of such marked attention,
how can I presume to repel your generous consideration?"
As he gave expression to these words, he walked off there and then, in
company with Shih-yin, and came over once again into the court in front
of the library. In a few minutes, tea was over.
The cups and dishes had been laid from an early hour, and needless to
say the wines were luscious; the fare sumptuous.
The two friends took their seats. At first they leisurely replenished
their glasses, and quietly sipped their wine; but as, little by little,
they entered into conversation, their good cheer grew more genial, and
unawares the glasses began to fly round, and the cups to be exchanged.
At this very hour, in every house of the neighbourhood, sounded the fife
and lute, while the inmates indulged in music and singing. Above head,
the orb of the radiant moon shone with an all-pervading splendour, and
with a steady lustrous light, while the two friends, as their exuberance
increased, drained their cups dry so soon as they reached their lips.
YĆ¼-ts'un, at this stage of the collation, was considerably under the
influence of wine, and the vehemence of his high spirits was
irrepressible. As he gazed at the moon, he fostered thoughts, to which
he gave vent by the recital of a double couplet.
'Tis what time three meets five, Selene is a globe!
Her pure rays fill the court, the jadelike rails enrobe!
Lo! in the heavens her disk to view doth now arise,
And in the earth below to gaze men lift their eyes.
"Excellent!" cried Shih-yin with a loud voice, after he had heard these
lines; "I have repeatedly maintained that it was impossible for you to
remain long inferior to any, and now the verses you have recited are a
prognostic of your rapid advancement. Already it is evident that, before
long, you will extend your footsteps far above the clouds! I must
congratulate you! I must congratulate you! Let me, with my own hands,
pour a glass of wine to pay you my compliments."
YĆ¼-ts'un drained the cup. "What I am about to say," he explained as he
suddenly heaved a sigh, "is not the maudlin talk of a man under the
effects of wine. As far as the subjects at present set in the
examinations go, I could, perchance, also have well been able to enter
the list, and to send in my name as a candidate; but I have, just now,
no means whatever to make provision for luggage and for travelling
expenses. The distance too to Shen Ching is a long one, and I could not
depend upon the sale of papers or the composition of essays to find the
means of getting there."
Shih-yin gave him no time to conclude. "Why did you not speak about this
sooner?" he interposed with haste. "I have long entertained this
suspicion; but as, whenever I met you, this conversation was never
broached, I did not presume to make myself officious. But if such be the
state of affairs just now, I lack, I admit, literary qualification, but
on the two subjects of friendly spirit and pecuniary means, I have,
nevertheless, some experience. Moreover, I rejoice that next year is
just the season for the triennial examinations, and you should start for
the capital with all despatch; and in the tripos next spring, you will,
by carrying the prize, be able to do justice to the proficiency you can
boast of. As regards the travelling expenses and the other items, the
provision of everything necessary for you by my own self will again not
render nugatory your mean acquaintance with me."
Forthwith, he directed a servant lad to go and pack up at once fifty
taels of pure silver and two suits of winter clothes.
"The nineteenth," he continued, "is a propitious day, and you should
lose no time in hiring a boat and starting on your journey westwards.
And when, by your eminent talents, you shall have soared high to a lofty
position, and we meet again next winter, will not the occasion be
extremely felicitous?"
YĆ¼-ts'un accepted the money and clothes with but scanty expression of
gratitude. In fact, he paid no thought whatever to the gifts, but went
on, again drinking his wine, as he chattered and laughed.
It was only when the third watch of that day had already struck that the
two friends parted company; and Shih-yin, after seeing YĆ¼-ts'un off,
retired to his room and slept, with one sleep all through, never waking
until the sun was well up in the skies.
Remembering the occurrence of the previous night, he meant to write a
couple of letters of recommendation for YĆ¼-ts'un to take along with him
to the capital, to enable him, after handing them over at the mansions
of certain officials, to find some place as a temporary home. He
accordingly despatched a servant to ask him to come round, but the man
returned and reported that from what the bonze said, "Mr. Chia had
started on his journey to the capital, at the fifth watch of that very
morning, that he had also left a message with the bonze to deliver to
you, Sir, to the effect that men of letters paid no heed to lucky or
unlucky days, that the sole consideration with them was the nature of
the matter in hand, and that he could find no time to come round in
person and bid good-bye."
Shih-yin after hearing this message had no alternative but to banish the
subject from his thoughts.
In comfortable circumstances, time indeed goes by with easy stride. Soon
drew near also the happy festival of the 15th of the 1st moon, and
Shih-yin told a servant Huo Ch'i to take Ying Lien to see the
sacrificial fires and flowery lanterns.
About the middle of the night, Huo Ch'i was hard pressed, and he
forthwith set Ying Lien down on the doorstep of a certain house. When he
felt relieved, he came back to take her up, but failed to find anywhere
any trace of Ying Lien. In a terrible plight, Huo Ch'i prosecuted his
search throughout half the night; but even by the dawn of day, he had
not discovered any clue of her whereabouts. Huo Ch'i, lacking, on the
other hand, the courage to go back and face his master, promptly made
his escape to his native village.
Shih-yin--in fact, the husband as well as the wife--seeing that their
child had not come home during the whole night, readily concluded that
some mishap must have befallen her. Hastily they despatched several
servants to go in search of her, but one and all returned to report that
there was neither vestige nor tidings of her.
This couple had only had this child, and this at the meridian of their
life, so that her sudden disappearance plunged them in such great
distress that day and night they mourned her loss to such a point as to
well nigh pay no heed to their very lives.
A month in no time went by. Shih-yin was the first to fall ill, and his
wife, Dame Feng, likewise, by dint of fretting for her daughter, was
also prostrated with sickness. The doctor was, day after day, sent for,
and the oracle consulted by means of divination.
Little did any one think that on this day, being the 15th of the 3rd
moon, while the sacrificial oblations were being prepared in the Hu Lu
temple, a pan with oil would have caught fire, through the want of care
on the part of the bonze, and that in a short time the flames would have
consumed the paper pasted on the windows.
Among the natives of this district bamboo fences and wooden partitions
were in general use, and these too proved a source of calamity so
ordained by fate (to consummate this decree).
With promptness (the fire) extended to two buildings, then enveloped
three, then dragged four (into ruin), and then spread to five houses,
until the whole street was in a blaze, resembling the flames of a
volcano. Though both the military and the people at once ran to the
rescue, the fire had already assumed a serious hold, so that it was
impossible for them to afford any effective assistance for its
suppression.
It blazed away straight through the night, before it was extinguished,
and consumed, there is in fact no saying how many dwelling houses.
Anyhow, pitiful to relate, the Chen house, situated as it was next door
to the temple, was, at an early part of the evening, reduced to a heap
of tiles and bricks; and nothing but the lives of that couple and
several inmates of the family did not sustain any injuries.
Shih-yin was in despair, but all he could do was to stamp his feet and
heave deep sighs. After consulting with his wife, they betook themselves
to a farm of theirs, where they took up their quarters temporarily. But
as it happened that water had of late years been scarce, and no crops
been reaped, robbers and thieves had sprung up like bees, and though the
Government troops were bent upon their capture, it was anyhow difficult
to settle down quietly on the farm. He therefore had no other resource
than to convert, at a loss, the whole of his property into money, and to
take his wife and two servant girls and come over for shelter to the
house of his father-in-law.
His father-in-law, Feng Su, by name, was a native of Ta Ju Chou.
Although only a labourer, he was nevertheless in easy circumstances at
home. When he on this occasion saw his son-in-law come to him in such
distress, he forthwith felt at heart considerable displeasure.
Fortunately Shih-yin had still in his possession the money derived from
the unprofitable realization of his property, so that he produced and
handed it to his father-in-law, commissioning him to purchase, whenever
a suitable opportunity presented itself, a house and land as a provision
for food and raiment against days to come. This Feng Su, however, only
expended the half of the sum, and pocketed the other half, merely
acquiring for him some fallow land and a dilapidated house.
Shih-yin being, on the other hand, a man of books and with no experience
in matters connected with business and with sowing and reaping,
subsisted, by hook and by crook, for about a year or two, when he became
more impoverished.
In his presence, Feng Su would readily give vent to specious utterances,
while, with others, and behind his back, he on the contrary expressed
his indignation against his improvidence in his mode of living, and
against his sole delight of eating and playing the lazy.
Shih-yin, aware of the want of harmony with his father-in-law, could not
help giving way, in his own heart, to feelings of regret and pain. In
addition to this, the fright and vexation which he had undergone the
year before, the anguish and suffering (he had had to endure), had
already worked havoc (on his constitution); and being a man advanced in
years, and assailed by the joint attack of poverty and disease, he at
length gradually began to display symptoms of decline.
Strange coincidence, as he, on this day, came leaning on his staff and
with considerable strain, as far as the street for a little relaxation,
he suddenly caught sight, approaching from the off side, of a Taoist
priest with a crippled foot; his maniac appearance so repulsive, his
shoes of straw, his dress all in tatters, muttering several sentiments
to this effect:
All men spiritual life know to be good,
But fame to disregard they ne'er succeed!
From old till now the statesmen where are they?
Waste lie their graves, a heap of grass, extinct.
All men spiritual life know to be good,
But to forget gold, silver, ill succeed!
Through life they grudge their hoardings to be scant,
And when plenty has come, their eyelids close.
All men spiritual life hold to be good,
Yet to forget wives, maids, they ne'er succeed!
Who speak of grateful love while lives their lord,
And dead their lord, another they pursue.
All men spiritual life know to be good,
But sons and grandsons to forget never succeed!
From old till now of parents soft many,
But filial sons and grandsons who have seen?
Shih-yin upon hearing these words, hastily came up to the priest, "What
were you so glibly holding forth?" he inquired. "All I could hear were a
lot of hao liao (excellent, finality.")
"You may well have heard the two words 'hao liao,'" answered the Taoist
with a smile, "but can you be said to have fathomed their meaning? You
should know that all things in this world are excellent, when they have
attained finality; when they have attained finality, they are excellent;
but when they have not attained finality, they are not excellent; if
they would be excellent, they should attain finality. My song is
entitled Excellent-finality (hao liao)."
Shih-yin was gifted with a natural perspicacity that enabled him, as
soon as he heard these remarks, to grasp their spirit.
"Wait a while," he therefore said smilingly; "let me unravel this
excellent-finality song of yours; do you mind?"
"Please by all means go on with the interpretation," urged the Taoist;
whereupon Shih-yin proceeded in this strain:
Sordid rooms and vacant courts,
Replete in years gone by with beds where statesmen lay;
Parched grass and withered banian trees,
Where once were halls for song and dance!
Spiders' webs the carved pillars intertwine,
The green gauze now is also pasted on the straw windows!
What about the cosmetic fresh concocted or the powder just scented;
Why has the hair too on each temple become white like hoarfrost!
Yesterday the tumulus of yellow earth buried the bleached bones,
To-night under the red silk curtain reclines the couple!
Gold fills the coffers, silver fills the boxes,
But in a twinkle, the beggars will all abuse you!
While you deplore that the life of others is not long,
You forget that you yourself are approaching death!
You educate your sons with all propriety,
But they may some day, 'tis hard to say become thieves;
Though you choose (your fare and home) the fatted beam,
You may, who can say, fall into some place of easy virtue!
Through your dislike of the gauze hat as mean,
You have come to be locked in a cangue;
Yesterday, poor fellow, you felt cold in a tattered coat,
To-day, you despise the purple embroidered dress as long!
Confusion reigns far and wide! you have just sung your part, I come on
the boards,
Instead of yours, you recognise another as your native land;
What utter perversion!
In one word, it comes to this we make wedding clothes for others!
(We sow for others to reap.)
The crazy limping Taoist clapped his hands. "Your interpretation is
explicit," he remarked with a hearty laugh, "your interpretation is
explicit!"
Shih-yin promptly said nothing more than,--"Walk on;" and seizing the
stole from the Taoist's shoulder, he flung it over his own. He did not,
however, return home, but leisurely walked away, in company with the
eccentric priest.
The report of his disappearance was at once bruited abroad, and plunged
the whole neighbourhood in commotion; and converted into a piece of
news, it was circulated from mouth to mouth.
Dame Feng, Shih-yin's wife, upon hearing the tidings, had such a fit of
weeping that she hung between life and death; but her only alternative
was to consult with her father, and to despatch servants on all sides to
institute inquiries. No news was however received of him, and she had
nothing else to do but to practise resignation, and to remain dependent
upon the support of her parents for her subsistence. She had fortunately
still by her side, to wait upon her, two servant girls, who had been
with her in days gone by; and the three of them, mistress as well as
servants, occupied themselves day and night with needlework, to assist
her father in his daily expenses.
This Feng Su had after all, in spite of his daily murmurings against his
bad luck, no help but to submit to the inevitable.
On a certain day, the elder servant girl of the Chen family was at the
door purchasing thread, and while there, she of a sudden heard in the
street shouts of runners clearing the way, and every one explain that
the new magistrate had come to take up his office.
The girl, as she peeped out from inside the door, perceived the lictors
and policemen go by two by two; and when unexpectedly in a state chair,
was carried past an official, in black hat and red coat, she was indeed
quite taken aback.
"The face of this officer would seem familiar," she argued within
herself; "just as if I had seen him somewhere or other ere this."
Shortly she entered the house, and banishing at once the occurrence from
her mind, she did not give it a second thought. At night, however, while
she was waiting to go to bed, she suddenly heard a sound like a rap at
the door. A band of men boisterously cried out: "We are messengers,
deputed by the worthy magistrate of this district, and come to summon
one of you to an enquiry."
Feng Su, upon hearing these words, fell into such a terrible
consternation that his eyes stared wide and his mouth gaped.
What calamity was impending is not as yet ascertained, but, reader,
listen to the explanation contained in the next chapter.
ļ»æThe Project Gutenberg eBook of Hung Lou Meng, or, the Dream of the Red Chamber, a Chinese Novel, Book I
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Title: Hung Lou Meng, or, the Dream of the Red Chamber, a Chinese Novel, Book I
Author: Xueqin Cao
Translator: H. Bencraft Joly
Release date: January 1, 2006 [eBook #9603]
Most recently updated: January 2, 2021
Language: English
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HUNG LOU MENG, BOOK I
OR, THE DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER, A CHINESE NOVEL IN TWO BOOKS
BY
CAO XUEQIN
Translated by H. BENCRAFT JOLY
BOOK I.
PREFACE.
This translation was suggested not by any pretensions to range myself
among the ranks of the body of sinologues, but by the perplexities and
difficulties experienced by me as a student in Peking, when, at the
completion of the Tzu Erh Chi, I had to plunge in the maze of the Hung
Lou Meng.
Shortcomings are, I feel sure, to be discovered, both in the prose, as
well as among the doggerel and uncouth rhymes, in which the text has
been more adhered to than rhythm; but I shall feel satisfied with the
result, if I succeed, even in the least degree, in affording a helping
hand to present and future students of the Chinese language.
H. BENCRAFT JOLY, H.B.M. Vice-Consulate, Macao, 1st September, 1891.
THE DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER.