CHAPTER XLVIII. Page 3 _The Dream of the Red Chamber
T'an Ch'un and Tai-yue both smiled. "Who doesn't go in for these things for fun?" they asked. "Is it likely that we improvise verses in real earnest? Why, if any one treated our verses as genuine verses, and took them outside this garden, people would have such a hearty laugh at our expense that their very teeth would drop."
"This is again self-violence and self-abasement!" Pao-yue interposed. The other day, I was outside the garden, consulting with the gentlemen about paintings, and, when they came to hear that we had started a poetical society, they begged of me to let them have the rough copies to read. So I wrote out several stanzas, and gave them to them to look over, and who did not praise them with all sincerity? They even copied them and took them to have the blocks cut."
"Are you speaking the truth?" T'an Ch'un and Tai-yue eagerly inquired.
"If I'm telling a lie," Pao-yue laughed, "I'm like that cockatoo on that frame!"
"You verily do foolish things!" Tai-yue and T'an Ch'un exclaimed with one voice, at these words. "But not to mention that they were doggerel lines, had they even been anything like what verses should be, our writings shouldn't have been hawked about outside."
"What's there to fear?" Pao-yue smiled. "Hadn't the writings of women of old been handed outside the limits of the inner chambers, why, there would, at present, be no one with any idea of their very existence."
While he passed this remark, they saw Ju Hua arrive from Hsi Ch'un's quarters to ask Pao-yue to go over; and Pao-yue eventually took his departure.
Hsiang Ling then pressed (Tai-yue) to give her T'u's poems. "Do choose some theme," she also asked Tai-yue and T'an Ch'un, "and let me go and write on it. When I've done, I'll bring it for you to correct."
"Last night," Tai-yue observed, "the moon was so magnificent, that I meant to improvise a stanza on it; but as I haven't done yet, go at once and write one using the fourteenth rhyme, 'han,' (cool). You're at liberty to make use of whatever words you fancy."
Hearing this, Hsiang Ling was simply delighted, and taking the poems, she went back. After considerable exertion, she succeeded in devising a couplet, but so little able was she to tear herself away from the 'T'u' poems, that she perused another couple of stanzas, until she had no inclination for either tea or food, and she felt in an unsettled mood, try though she did to sit or recline.
"Why," Pao-ch'ai remonstrated, "do you bring such trouble upon yourself? It's that P'in Erh, who has led you on to it! But I'll settle accounts with her! You've all along been a thick-headed fool; but now that you've burdened yourself with all this, you've become a greater fool."
"Miss," smiled Hsiang Ling, "don't confuse me."
So saying, she set to work and put together a stanza, which she first and foremost handed to Pao-ch'ai to look over.
"This isn't good!" Pao-ch'ai smilingly said. "This isn't the way to do it! Don't fear of losing face, but take it and give it to her to peruse. We'll see what she says."
At this suggestion, Hsiang Ling forthwith went with her verses in search of Tai-yue. When Tai-yue came to read them, she found their text to be:
The night grows cool, what time Selene reacheth the mid-heavens. Her radiance pure shineth around with such a spotless sheen. Bards oft for inspiration raise on her their thoughts and eyes. The rustic daren't see her, so fears he to enhance his grief. Jade mirrors are suspended near the tower of malachite. An icelike plate dangles outside the gem-laden portiere. The eve is fine, so why need any silvery candles burn? A clear light shines with dazzling lustre on the painted rails.
"There's a good deal of spirit in them," Tai-yue smiled, "but the language is not elegant. It's because you've only read a few poetical works that you labour under restraint. Now put this stanza aside and write another. Pluck up your courage and go and work away."
After listening to her advice, Hsiang Ling quietly wended her way back, but so much the more (preoccupied) was she in her mind that she did not even enter the house, but remaining under the trees, planted by the side of the pond, she either seated herself on a rock and plunged in a reverie, or squatted down and dug the ground, to the astonishment of all those, who went backwards and forwards. Li wan, Pao-ch'ai, T'an Ch'un, Pao-yue and some others heard about her; and, taking their position some way off on the mound, they watched her, much amused. At one time, they saw her pucker up her eyebrows; and at another smile to herself.
"That girl must certainly be cracked!" Pao-ch'ai laughed. "Last night she kept on muttering away straight up to the fifth watch, when she at last turned in. But shortly, daylight broke, and I heard her get up and comb her hair, all in a hurry, and rush after P'in Erh. In a while, however, she returned; and, after acting like an idiot the whole day, she managed to put together a stanza. But it wasn't after all, good, so she's, of course, now trying to devise another."
"This indeed shows," Pao-yue laughingly remarked, "that the earth is spiritual, that man is intelligent, and that heaven does not in the creation of human beings bestow on them natural gifts to no purpose. We've been sighing and lamenting that it was a pity that such a one as she, should, really, be so unpolished; but who could ever have anticipated that things would, in the long run, reach the present pass? This is a clear sign that heaven and earth are most equitable!"
"If only," smiled Pao-ch'ai, at these words, "you could be as painstaking as she is, what a good thing it would be. And would you fail to attain success in anything you might take up?"
Pao-yue made no reply. But realising that Hsiang Ling had crossed over in high spirits to find Tai-yue again, T'an Ch'un laughed and suggested, "Let's follow her there, and see whether her composition is any good."
At this proposal, they came in a body to the Hsiao Hsiang lodge. Here they discovered Tai-yue holding the verses and explaining various things to her.
"What are they like?" they all thereupon inquired of Tai-yue.
"This is naturally a hard job for her!" Tai-yue rejoined. "They're not yet as good as they should be. This stanza is far too forced; you must write another."
One and all however expressed a desire to look over the verses. On perusal, they read:
'Tis not silver, neither water that on the windows shines so cold. Selene, mark! covers, like a jade platter, the clear vault of heaven. What time the fragrance faint of the plum bloom is fain to tinge the air, The dew-bedecked silken willow trees begin to lose their leaves. 'Tis the remains of powder which methinks besmear the golden steps. Her lustrous rays enshroud like light hoar-frost the jadelike balustrade. When from my dreams I wake, in the west tower, all human trace is gone. Her slanting orb can yet clearly be seen across the bamboo screen.
"It doesn't sound like a song on the moon," Pao-ch'ai smilingly observed. "Yet were, after the word 'moon', that of 'light' supplied, it would be better; for, just see, if each of these lines treated of the moonlight, they would be all right. But poetry primarily springs from nonsensical language. In a few days longer, you'll be able to do well."
Hsiang Ling had flattered herself that this last stanza was perfect, and the criticisms, that fell on her ear, damped her spirits again. She was not however disposed to relax in her endeavours, but felt eager to commune with her own thoughts, so when she perceived the young ladies chatting and laughing, she betook herself all alone to the bamboo-grove at the foot of the steps; where she racked her brain, and ransacked her mind with such intentness that her ears were deaf to everything around her and her eyes blind to everything beyond her task.
"Miss Ling," T'an Ch'un presently cried, smiling from inside the window, "do have a rest!"
"The character 'rest;'" Hsiang Ling nervously replied, "comes from lot N. deg. 15, under 'shan', (to correct); so it's the wrong rhyme."
This rambling talk made them involuntarily burst out laughing.
"In very fact," Pao-sh'ai laughed, "she's under a poetical frenzy, and it's all P'in Erh who has incited her."
"The holy man says," Tai-yue smilingly rejoined, "that 'one must not be weary of exhorting people'; and if she comes, time and again, to ask me this and that how can I possibly not tell her?"
"Let's take her to Miss Quarta's rooms," Li Wan smiled, "and if we could coax her to look at the painting, and bring her to her senses, it will be well."
Speaking the while, she actually walked out of the room, and laying hold of her, she brought her through the Lotus Fragrance arbour to the bank of Warm Fragrance. Hsi Ch'un was tired and languid, and was lying on the window, having a midday siesta. The painting was resting against the partition-wall, and was screened with a gauze cover. With one voice, they roused Hsi Ch'un, and raising the gauze cover to contemplate her work, they saw that three tenths of it had already been accomplished. But their attention was attracted by the representation of several beautiful girls, inserted in the picture, so pointing at Hsiang Ling: "Every one who can write verses is to be put here," they said, "so be quick and learn."
But while conversing, they played and laughed for a time, after which, each went her own way.
Hsiang Ling was meanwhile preoccupied about her verses, so, when evening came, she sat facing the lamp absorbed in thought. And the third watch struck before she got to bed. But her eyes were so wide awake, that it was only after the fifth watch had come and gone, that she, at length, felt drowsy and fell fast asleep.
Presently, the day dawned, and Pao-ch'ai woke up; but, when she lent an ear, she discovered (Hsiang Ling) in a sound sleep. "She has racked her brains the whole night long," she pondered. "I wonder, however, whether she has succeeded in finishing her task. She must be tired now, so I won't disturb her."
But in the midst of her cogitations, she heard Hsiang Ling laugh and exclaim in her sleep: "I've got it. It cannot be that this stanza too won't be worth anything."
"How sad and ridiculous!" Pao-ch'ai soliloquised with a smile. And, calling her by name, she woke her up. "What have you got?" she asked. "With that firmness of purpose of yours, you could even become a spirit! But before you can learn how to write poetry, you'll be getting some illness."
Chiding her the while, she combed her hair and washed; and, this done, she repaired, along with her cousins, into dowager lady Chia's quarters.
Hsiang Ling made, in fact, such desperate efforts to learn all about poetry that her system got quite out of order. But although she did not in the course of the day hit upon anything, she quite casually succeeded in her dreams in devising eight lines; so concluding her toilette and her ablutions, she hastily jotted them down, and betook herself into the Hsin Fang pavilion. Here she saw Li Wan and the whole bevy of young ladies, returning from Madame Wang's suite of apartments.
Pao-ch'ai was in the act of telling them of the verses composed by Hsiang Ling, while asleep, and of the nonsense she had been talking, and every one of them was convulsed with laughter. But upon raising their heads, and perceiving that she was approaching, they vied with each other in pressing her to let them see her composition.
But, reader, do you wish to know any further particulars? If you do; read those given in the next chapter.