The Dream of the Red Chamber (Selection)

  Dowager lady Chia, Madame Wang and the rest had all along been fond of Li Wan for her virtuous and benevolent character. Besides, her continence in remaining a widow at her tender age commanded general esteem. When they therefore now saw her husbandless sister-in-law come to pay her a visit, they would not allow her to go and live outside the mansion. Her sister-in-law was, it is true, extremely opposed to the proposal, but as dowager lady Chia was firm in her determination, she had no other course but to settle down, along with Li Wen and Li Ch'i, in the Tao Hsiang village.

  They had by this time assigned quarters to all the new comers, when, who would have thought it, Shih Ting, Marquis of Chung Ching, was once again appointed to a high office in another province, and he had shortly to take his family and proceed to his post. But so little could old lady Chia brook the separation from Hsiang-yün that she kept her behind and received her in her own home. Her original idea was to have asked lady Feng to have separate rooms arranged for her, but Shih Hsiang-yün was so obstinate in her refusal, her sole wish being to put up with Pao-ch'ai, that the idea had, in consequence, to be abandoned.

  At this period, the garden of Broad Vista was again much more full of life than it had ever been before. Li Wan was the chief inmate. The rest consisted of Ying Ch'un, T'an Ch'un, Hsi Ch'un, Pao-ch'ai, Tai-yü, Hsiang-yün, Li Wen, Li Ch'i, Pao Ch'in and Hsing Chou-yen. In addition to these, there were lady Feng and Pao-yü, so that they mustered thirteen in all. As regards age, irrespective of Li Wan, who was by far the eldest, and lady Feng, who came next, the other inmates did not exceed fourteen, sixteen or seventeen. But the majority of them had come into the world in the same year, though in different months, so they themselves could not remember distinctly who was senior, and who junior. Even dowager lady Chia, Madame Wang and the matrons and maids in the household were unable to tell the differences between them with any accuracy, given as they were to the simple observance of addressing themselves promiscuously and quite at random by the four words representing 'female cousin' and 'male cousin.'

  Hsiang Ling was gratifying her wishes to her heart's content and devoting her mind exclusively to the composition of verses, not presuming however to make herself too much of a nuisance to Pao-ch'ai, when, by a lucky coincidence, Shih Hsiang-yün came on the scene. But how was it possible for one so loquacious as Hsiang-yün to avoid the subject of verses, when Hsiang Ling repeatedly begged her for explanations? This inspirited her so much the more, that not a day went by, yea not a single night, on which she did not start some loud argument and lengthy discussion.

  "You really," Pao-ch'ai felt impelled to laugh, "kick up such a din, that it's quite unbearable! Fancy a girl doing nothing else than turning poetry into a legitimate thing for raising an argument! Why, were some literary persons to hear you, they would, instead of praising you, have a laugh at your expense, and say that you don't mind your own business. We hadn't yet got rid of Hsiang Ling with all her rubbish, and here we have a chatterbox like you thrown on us! But what is it that that mouth of yours keeps on jabbering? What about the bathos of Tu Kung-pu; and the unadorned refinement of Wei Su-chou? What also about Wen Pa-ch'a's elegant diction; and Li I-shan's abstruseness? A pack of silly fools that you are! Do you in any way behave like girls should?"

  These sneers evoked laughter from both Hsiang Ling and Hsiang-yün. But in the course of their conversation, they perceived Pao-ch'in drop in, with a waterproof wrapper thrown over her, so dazzling with its gold and purplish colours, that they were at a loss to make out what sort of article it could be.

  "Where did you get this?" Pao-ch'ai eagerly inquired.

  "It was snowing," Pao-ch'in smilingly replied, "so her venerable ladyship turned up this piece of clothing and gave it to me."

  Hsiang Ling drew near and passed it under inspection. "No wonder," she exclaimed, "it looks so handsome! It's verily woven with peacock's feathers."

  "What about peacock's feathers?" Hsiang-yün laughed. "It's made of the feathers plucked from the heads of wild ducks. This is a clear sign that our worthy ancestor is fond of you, for with all her love for Pao-yü, she hasn't given it to him to wear."

  "Truly does the proverb say: 'that every human being has his respective lot.'" Pao-ch'ai smiled. "Nothing ever was further from my thoughts than that she would, at this juncture, drop on the scene! Come she may, but here she also gets our dear ancestor to lavish such love on her!"

  "Unless you stay with our worthy senior," Hsiang-yün said, "do come into the garden. You may romp and laugh and eat and drink as much as you like in these two places. But when you get over to Madame Hsing's rooms, talk and joke with her, if she be at home, to your heart's content; it won't matter if you tarry ever so long. But should she not be in, don't put your foot inside; for the inmates are many in those rooms and their hearts are evil. All they're up to is to do us harm."

  These words much amused Pao-ch'ai, Pao-ch'in, Hsiang-Ling, Ying Erh and the others present.

  "Were one to say," Pao-ch'ai smiled, "that you're heartless, (it wouldn't do); for you've got a heart. But despite your having a heart, your tongue is, in fact, a little too outspoken! You should really to-day acknowledge this Ch'in Erh of ours as your own sister!"

  "This article of clothing," Hsiang-yün laughed, casting another glance at Pao-ch'in, "is only meet for her to wear. It wouldn't verily look well on any one else."

  Saying this, she espied Hu Po enter the room. "Our old mistress," she put in smiling, "bade me tell you, Miss Pao-ch'ai, not to keep too strict a check over Miss Ch'in, for she's yet young; that you should let her do as she pleases, and that whatever she wants you should ask for, and not be afraid."

  Pao-ch'ai hastily jumped to her feet and signified her obedience. Pushing Pao-ch'in, she laughed. "Even you couldn't tell whence this piece of good fortune hails from," she said. "Be off now; for mind, we might hurt your feelings. I can never believe myself so inferior to you!"

  As she spoke, Pao-yü and Tai-yü walked in. But as Pao-ch'ai continued to indulge in raillery to herself, "Cousin Pao," Hsiang-yün smilingly remonstrated, "you may, it's true, be jesting, but what if there were any one to entertain such ideas in real earnest?"

  "If any one took things in earnest," Hu Po interposed laughing, "why, she'd give offence to no one else but to him." Pointing, as she uttered this remark, at Pao-yü.

  "He's not that sort of person!" Pao-ch'ai and Hsiang-yün simultaneously ventured, with a significant smile.

  "If it isn't he," Hu Po proceeded still laughing, "it's she." Turning again her finger towards Tai-yü.

  Hsiang-yün expressed not a word by way of rejoinder.

  "That's still less likely," Pao-ch'ai smiled, "for my cousin is like her own sister; and she's far fonder of her than of me. How could she therefore take offence? Do you credit that nonsensical trash uttered by Yün-erh! Why what good ever comes out of that mouth of hers?"

  Pao-yü was ever well aware that Tai-yü was gifted with a somewhat mean disposition. He had not however as yet come to learn anything of what had recently transpired between Tai-yü and Pao-ch'ai. He was therefore just giving way to fears lest his grandmother's fondness for Pao-ch'in should be the cause of her feeling dejected. But when he now heard the remarks passed by Hsiang-yün, and the rejoinders made, on the other hand, by Pao-ch'ai, and, when he noticed how different Tai-yü's voice and manner were from former occasions, and how they actually bore out Pao-ch'ai's insinuation, he was at a great loss how to solve the mystery. "These two," he consequently pondered, "were never like this before! From all I can now see, they're, really, a hundred times far more friendly than any others are!" But presently he also observed Lin Tai-yü rush after Pao-ch'in, and call out 'Sister,' and, without even making any allusion to her name or any mention to her surname, treat her in every respect, just as if she were her own sister.

  This Pao-ch'in was young and warm-hearted. She was naturally besides of an intelligent disposition. She had, from her very youth up, learnt how to read and how to write. After a stay, on
the present occasion, of a couple of days in the Chia mansion, she became acquainted with nearly every inmate. And as she saw that the whole bevy of young ladies were not of a haughty nature, and that they kept on friendly terms with her own cousin, she did not feel disposed to treat them with any discourtesy. But she had likewise found out for herself that Lin Tai-yü was the best among the whole lot, so she started with Tai-yü, more than with any one else, a friendship of unusual fervour. This did not escape Pao-yü's notice; but all he could do was to secretly give way to amazement.

  Shortly, however, Pao-ch'ai and her cousin repaired to Mrs. Hsüeh's quarters. Hsiang-yün then betook herself to dowager lady Chia's apartments, while Lin Tai-yü returned to her room and lay down to rest.

  Pao-yü thereupon came to look up Tai-yü.

  "Albeit I've read the 'Record of the Western Side-room,'" he smiled, "and understood a few passages of it, yet when I quoted some in order to make you laugh, you flew into a huff! But I now remember that there is, indeed, a passage, which is not intelligible to me; so let me quote it for you to explain it for me!"

  Hearing this, Tai-yü immediately concluded that his words harboured some secret meaning, so putting on a smile, "Recite it and let me hear it," she said.

  "In the 'Confusion' chapter," Pao-yü laughingly began, "there's a line couched in most beautiful language. It's this: 'What time did Meng Kuang receive Liang Hung's candlestick?' (When did you and Pao-ch'ai get to be such friends?) These five characters simply bear on a stock story; but to the credit of the writer be it, the question contained in the three empty words representing, 'What time' is set so charmingly! When did she receive it? Do tell me!"

  At this inquiry, Tai-yü too could not help laughing. "The question was originally nicely put," she felt urged to rejoin with a laugh. "But though the writer sets it gracefully, you ask it likewise with equal grace!"

  "At one time," Pao-yü. observed, "all you knew was to suspect that I (was in love with Pao-ch'ai); and have you now no faults to find?"

  "Who ever could have imagined her such a really nice girl!" Tai-yü smiled. "I've all along thought her full of guile!" And seizing the occasion, she told Pao-yü with full particulars how she had, in the game of forfeits, made an improper quotation, and what advice Pao-ch'ai had given her on the subject; how she had even sent her some birds' nests, and what they had said in the course of the chat they had had during her illness.

  Pao-yü then at length came to see why it was that such a warm friendship had sprung up between them. "To tell you the truth," he consequently remarked smilingly, "I was just wondering when Meng Kuang had received Liang Hung's candlestick; and, lo, you, indeed, got it, when a mere child and through some reckless talk, (and your friendship was sealed)."

  As the conversation again turned on Pao-ch'in, Tai-yü recalled to mind that she had no sister, and she could not help melting once more into tears.

  Pao-yü hastened to reason with her. "This is again bringing trouble upon yourself!" he argued. "Just see how much thinner you are this year than you were last; and don't you yet look after your health? You deliberately worry yourself every day of your life. And when you've had a good cry, you feel at last that you've acquitted yourself of the duties of the day."

  "Of late," Tai-yü observed, drying her tears, "I feel sore at heart. But my tears are scantier by far than they were in years gone by. With all the grief and anguish, which gnaw my heart, my tears won't fall plentifully."

  "This is because weeping has become a habit with you," Pao-yü added. "But though you fancy to yourself that it is so, how can your tears have become scantier than they were?"

  While arguing with her, he perceived a young waiting-maid, attached to his room, bring him a red felt wrapper. "Our senior mistress, lady Chia Chu," she went on, "has just sent a servant to say that, as it snows, arrangements should be made for inviting people to-morrow to write verses."

  But hardly was this message delivered, than they saw Li Wan's maid enter, and invite Tai-yü to go over. Pao-yü then proposed to Tai-yü to accompany him, and together they came to the Tao Hsiang village. Tai-yü changed her shoes for a pair of low shoes made of red scented sheep skin, ornamented with gold, and hollowed clouds. She put on a deep red crape cloak, lined with white fox fur; girdled herself with a lapis-lazuli coloured sash, decorated with bright green double rings and four sceptres; and covered her head with a hat suitable for rainy weather. After which, the two cousins trudged in the snow, and repaired to this side of the mansion. Here they discovered the young ladies assembled, dressed all alike in deep red felt or camlet capes, with the exception of Li Wan, who was clad in a woollen jacket, buttoning in the middle.

  Hsüeh Pao-ch'ai wore a pinkish-purple twilled pelisse, lined with foreign 'pa' fur, worked with threads from abroad, and ornamented with double embroidery. Hsing Chou-yen was still attired in an old costume, she ordinarily used at home, without any garment for protection against the rain. Shortly, Shih Hsiang-yün arrived. She wore the long pelisse, given her by dowager lady Chia, which gave warmth both from the inside and outside, as the top consisted of martin-head fur, and the lining of the long-haired coat of the dark grey squirrel. On her head, she had a deep red woollen hood, made á la Chao Chün, with designs of clouds scooped out on it. This was lined with gosling-yellow, gold-streaked silk. Round her neck, she had a collar of sable fur.

  "Just see here!" Tai-yü was the first to shout with a laugh. "Here comes Sun Hsing-che the 'monkey-walker!' Lo, like him, she holds a snow cloak, and purposely puts on the air of a young bewitching ape!"

  "Look here, all of you!" Hsiang-yün laughed. "See what I wear inside!"

  So saying, she threw off her cloak. This enabled them to notice that she wore underneath a half-new garment with three different coloured borders on the collar and cuffs, consisting of a short pelisse of russet material lined with ermine and ornamented with dragons embroidered in variegated silks whose coils were worked with golden threads. The lapel was narrow. The sleeves were short. The folds buttoned on the side. Under this, she had a very short light-red brocaded satin bodkin, lined with fur from foxes' ribs. Round her waist was lightly attached a many-hued palace sash, with butterfly knots and long tassels. On her feet, she too wore a pair of low shoes made of deer leather. Her waist looked more than ever like that of a wasp, her back like that of the gibbon. Her bearing resembled that of a crane, her figure that of a mantis.

  "Her weak point," they laughed unanimously, "is to get herself up to look like a young masher. But she does, there's no denying, cut a much handsomer figure like this, than when she's dressed up like a girl!"

  "Lose no time," Hsiang-yün smiled, "in deliberating about writing verses, for I'd like to hear who is to stand treat."

  "According to my idea," Li Wan chimed in, "I think that as the legitimate day, which was yesterday, has gone by, it would be too long to wait for another proper date. As luck would have it, it's snowing again to-day, so won't it be well to raise contributions among ourselves and have a meeting? We'll thus be able to give the visitors a greeting; and to get an opportunity of writing a few verses. But what are your views on the subject?"

  "This proposal is excellent!" Pao-yü was the first to exclaim. "The only thing is that it's too late to-day; and if it clears up by to-morrow, there will be really no fun."

  "It isn't likely," cried out the party with one voice, "that this snowy weather will clear up. But even supposing it does, the snow which will fall during this night will be sufficient for our enjoyment."

  "This place of mine is nice enough, it's true," Li Wan added, "yet it isn't up to the Lu Hsüeh Pavilion. I've already therefore despatched workmen to raise earthen couches, so that we should all be able to sit round the fire and compose our verses. Our venerable senior, I fancy, is not sure about caring to join us. Besides, this is only a small amusement between ourselves so if we just let that hussy Feng know something about it, it will be quite enough. A tael from each of you will be ample, but send your money to me here! As
regards Hsiang Ling, Pao-ch'in, Li Wen, Li Ch'i and Chou-yen, the five of them, we needn't count them. Neither need we include the two girls of our number, who are ill; nor take into account the four girls who've asked for leave. If you will let me have your four shares, I'll undertake to see that five or six taels be made to suffice."

  Pao-ch'ai and the others without exception signified their acquiescence. They consequently proceeded to propose the themes and to fix upon the rhymes.

  "I've long ago," smiled Li Wan, "settled them in my own mind, so tomorrow at the proper time you'll really know all about them."

  At the conclusion of this remark, they indulged in another chat on irrelevant topics; and this over, they came into old lady Chia's quarters.

  Nothing of any note transpired during the course of that day. At an early hour on the morrow, Pao-yü—for he had been looking forward with such keen expectation to the coming event that he had found it impossible to have any sleep during the night,—jumped out of bed with the first blush of dawn. Upon raising his curtain and looking out, he observed that, albeit the doors and windows were as yet closed, a bright light shone on the lattice sufficient to dazzle the eyes, and his mind began at once to entertain misgivings, and to feel regrets, in the assurance that the weather had turned out fine, and that the sun had already risen. In a hurry, he simultaneously sprung to his feet, and flung the window-frame open, then casting a glance outside, from within the glass casement, he realised that it was not the reflection of the sun, but that of the snow, which had fallen throughout the night to the depth of over a foot, and that the heavens were still covered as if with twisted cotton and unravelled floss. Pao-yü got, by this time, into an unusual state of exhilaration. Hastily calling up the servants, and completing his ablutions, he robed himself in an egg-plant-coloured camlet, fox-fur lined pelisse; donned a short-sleeved falconry surtout ornamented with water dragons; tied a sash round his waist; threw over his shoulders a fine bamboo waterproof; covered his head with a golden rattan rain-hat; put on a pair of 'sha t'ang' wood clogs, and rushed out with precipitate step towards the direction of the Lu Hsüeh Pavilion.