Now when this command was laid before the August Aunt, the guardian of
the Inner Chambers, she was much perturbed in mind, for such a thing
was unheard of in all the annals of the Empire. Recovering herself, she
ventured to say that the discussion of such a question might raise
very disquieting thoughts in the minds of the ladies, who could not
be supposed to have any opinions at all on such a subject. Nor was it
desirable that they should have. To every woman her husband and no other
is and must be the Ideal Man. So it was always in the past; so it must
ever be. There are certain things which it is dangerous to question or
discuss, and how can ladies who have never spoken with any other man
than a parent or a brother judge such matters?
“How, indeed,” asked this lady of exalted merit, “can the bat form
an idea of the sunlight, or the carp of the motion of wings? If his
Celestial Majesty had commanded a discussion on the Superior Woman and
the virtues which should adorn her, some sentiments not wholly unworthy
might have been offered. But this is a calamity. They come unexpectedly,
springing up like mushrooms, and this one is probably due to the lack of
virtue of the inelegant and unintellectual person who is now speaking.”
This she uttered in the presence of the principal beauties of the
Inner Chambers. They sat or reclined about her in attitudes of perfect
loveliness. Two, embroidering silver pheasants, paused with their
needles suspended above the stretched silk, to hear the August Aunt.
One, threading beads of jewel jade, permitted them to slip from the
string and so distended the rose of her mouth in surprise that the small
pearl-shells were visible within. The Lady Tortoise, caressing a scarlet
and azure macaw, in her agitation so twitched the feathers that the
bird, shrieking, bit her finger. The Lady Golden Bells blushed deeply
at the thought of what was required of them; and the little Lady Summer
Dress, youngest of all the assembled beauties, was so alarmed at the
prospect that she began to sob aloud, until she met the eye of the
August Aunt and abruptly ceased.
“It is not, however, to be supposed,” said the August Aunt, opening her
snuff-bottle of painted crystal, “that the minds of our deplorable and
unattractive sex are wholly incapable of forming opinions. But speech
is a grave matter for women, naturally slow-witted and feeble-minded as
they are. This unenlightened person recalls the Odes as saying:--
‘A flaw in a piece of white jade
May be ground away,
But when a woman has spoken foolishly
Nothing can be done-’
a consideration which should make every lady here and throughout the
world think anxiously before speech.” So anxiously did the assembled
beauties think, that all remained mute as fish in a pool, and the August
Aunt continued:--
“Let Tsu-ssu be summoned. It is my intention to suggest to the Dragon
Emperor that the virtues of women be the subject of our discourse, and I
will myself open and conclude the discussion.”
Tsu-ssu was not long in kotowing before the August Aunt, who despatched
her message with the proper ceremonial due to its Imperial destination;
and meanwhile, in much agitation, the beauties could but twitter and
whisper in each other’s ears, and await the response like condemned
prisoners who yet hope for reprieve.
Scarce an hour had dripped away on the water-clock when an Imperial
Missive bound with yellow silk arrived, and the August Aunt, rising,
kotowed nine times before she received it in her jewelled hand with its
delicate and lengthy nails ensheathed in pure gold and set with gems
of the first water. She then read it aloud, the ladies prostrating
themselves.
To the Princess of Han, the August Aunt, the Lady of the Nine Superior
Virtues:--
“Having deeply reflected on the wisdom submitted, We thus reply. Women
should not be the judges of their own virtues, since these exist only
in relation to men. Let Our Command therefore be executed, and tablets
presented before us seven days hence, with the name of each lady
appended to her tablet.”
It was indeed pitiable to see the anxiety of the ladies! A sacrifice to
Kwan-Yin, the Goddess of Mercy, of a jewel from each, with intercession
for aid, was proposed by the Lustrous Lady; but the majority shook their
heads sadly. The August Aunt, tossing her head, declared that, as the
Son of Heaven had made no comment on her proposal of opening and closing
the discussion, she should take no part other than safeguarding the
interests of propriety. This much increased the alarm, and, kneeling at
her feet, the swan-like beauties, Deep-Snow and Winter Moon implored her
aid and compassion. But, rising indignantly, the August Aunt sought her
own apartments, and for the first time the inmates of the Pepper Chamber
saw with regret the golden dragons embroidered on her back.
It was then that the Round-Faced Beauty ventured a remark. This maiden,
having been born in the far-off province of Suchuan, was considered a
rustic by the distinguished elegance of the Palace and, therefore, had
never spoken unless decorum required. Still, even her detractors were
compelled to admit the charms that had gained her her name. Her face had
the flawless outline of the pearl, and like the blossom of the plum was
the purity of her complexion, upon which the darkness of her eyebrows
resembled two silk-moths alighted to flutter above the brilliance of her
eyes--eyes which even the August Aunt had commended after a banquet of
unsurpassed variety. Her hair had been compared to the crow’s plumage;
her waist was like a roll of silk, and her discretion in habiting
herself was such that even the Lustrous Lady and the Lady Tortoise drew
instruction from the splendours of her robes. It created, however, a
general astonishment when she spoke.
“Paragons of beauty, what is this dull and opaque-witted person that
she should speak?”
“What, indeed!” said the Celestial Sister. “This entirely
undistinguished person cannot even imagine.”
A distressing pause followed, during which many whispered anxiously. The
Lustrous Lady broke it.
“It is true that the highly ornamental Round-Faced Beauty is but lately
come, yet even the intelligent Ant may assist the Dragon; and in the
presence of alarm, what is decorum? With a tiger behind one, who can
recall the Book of Rites and act with befitting elegance?”
“The high-born will at all times remember the Rites!” retorted the
Celestial Sister. “Have we not heard the August Aunt observe: ‘Those who
understand do not speak. Those who speak do not understand’?”
The Round-Faced Beauty collected her courage.
“Doubtless this is wisdom; yet if the wise do not speak, who should
instruct us? The August Aunt herself would be silent.”
All were confounded by this dilemma, and the little Lady Summer-Dress,
still weeping, entreated that the Round-Faced Beauty might be heard.
The Heavenly Blossoms then prepared to listen and assumed attitudes of
attention, which so disconcerted the Round-Faced Beauty that she blushed
like a spring tulip in speaking.
“Beautiful ladies, our Lord, who is unknown to us all, has issued an
august command. It cannot be disputed, for the whisper of disobedience
is heard as thunder in the Imperial Presence. Should we not aid each
other? If any lady has formed a dream in her soul of the Ideal
Man, might not such a picture aid us all? Let us not be
‘say-nothing-do-nothing,’ but act!”
They hung their heads and smiled, but none would allow that she had
formed such an image. The little Lady Tortoise, laughing behind her
fan of sandalwood, said roguishly: “The Ideal Man should be handsome,
liberal in giving, and assuredly he should appreciate the beauty of his
wives. But this we cannot say to the Divine Emperor.”
A sigh rustled through the Pepper Chamber. The Celestial Sister looked
angrily at the speaker.
“This is the talk of children,” she said. “Does no one remember
Kung-fu-tse’s [Confucius] description of the Superior Man?”
Unfortunately none did--not even the Celestial Sister herself.
“Is it not probable,” said the Round-Faced Beauty, “that the Divine
Emperor remembers it himself and wishes--”
But the Celestial Sister, yawning audibly, summoned the attendants to
bring rose-leaves in honey, and would hear no more.
The Round-Faced Beauty therefore wandered forth among the mossy rocks
and drooping willows of the Imperial Garden, deeply considering the
matter. She ascended the bow-curved bridge of marble which crossed the
Pool of Clear Weather, and from the top idly observed the reflection of
her rose-and-gold coat in the water while, with her taper fingers, she
crumbled cake for the fortunate gold-fish that dwelt in it. And, so
doing, she remarked one fish, four-tailed among the six-tailed, and in
no way distinguished by elegance, which secured by far the largest share
of the crumbs dropped into the pool. Bending lower, she observed this
singular fish and its methods.
The others crowded about the spot where the crumbs fell, all herded
together. In their eagerness and stupidity they remained like a cloud of
gold in one spot, slowly waving their tails. But this fish, concealing
itself behind a miniature rock, waited, looking upward, until the
crumbs were falling, and then, rushing forth with the speed of an
arrow, scattered the stupid mass of fish, and bore off the crumbs to its
shelter, where it instantly devoured them.
“This is notable,” said the Round-Faced Beauty. “Observation enlightens
the mind. To be apart--to be distinguished--secures notice!” And she
plunged into thought again, wandering, herself a flower, among the
gorgeous tree peonies.
On the following day the August Aunt commanded that a writer among the
palace attendants should, with brush and ink, be summoned to transcribe
the wisdom of the ladies. She requested that each would give three
days to thought, relating the following anecdote. “There was a man who,
taking a piece of ivory, carved it into a mulberry leaf, spending three
years on the task. When finished it could not be told from the original,
and was a gift suitable for the Brother of the Sun and Moon. Do
likewise!”
“But yet, O Augustness!” said the Celestial Sister, “if the Lord of
Heaven took as long with each leaf, there would be few leaves on the
trees, and if-”
The August Aunt immediately commanded silence and retired. On the third
day she seated herself in her chair of carved ebony, while the attendant
placed himself by her feet and prepared to record her words.
“This insignificant person has decided,” began her Augustness, looking
round and unscrewing the amber top of her snuff-bottle, “to take an
unintelligent part in these proceedings. An example should be set.
Attendant, write!”
She then dictated as follows: “The Ideal Man is he who now decorates
the Imperial Throne, or he who in all humility ventures to resemble the
incomparable Emperor. Though he may not hope to attain, his endeavor is
his merit. No further description it needed.”
With complacence she inhaled the perfumed snuff, as the writer appended
the elegant characters of her Imperial name.
If it is permissible to say that the faces of the beauties lengthened
visibly, it should now be said. For it had been the intention of every
lady to make an illusion to the Celestial Emperor and depict him as the
Ideal Man. Nor had they expected that the August Aunt would take any
part in the matter.
“Oh, but it was the intention of this commonplace and undignified person
to say this very thing!” cried the Lustrous Lady, with tears in the
jewels of her eyes. “I thought no other high-minded and distinguished
lady would for a moment think of it.”
“And it was my intention also!” fluttered the little Lady Tortoise,
wringing her hands! “What now shall this most unlucky and unendurable
person do? For three nights has sleep forsaken my unattractive eyelids,
and, tossing and turning on a couch deprived of all comfort, I could
only repeat, ‘The Ideal Man is the Divine Dragon Emperor!’”
“May one of entirely contemptible attainments make a suggestion in this
assemblage of scintillating wit and beauty?” inquired the Celestial
Sister. “My superficial opinion is that it would be well to prepare a
single paper to which all names should be appended, stating that His
Majesty in his Dragon Divinity comprises all ideals in his sacred
Person.”
“Let those words be recorded,” said the August Aunt. “What else should
any lady of discretion and propriety say? In this Palace of Virtuous
Peace, where all is consecrated to the Son of Heaven, though he deigns
not to enter it, what other thought dare be breathed? Has any lady
ventured to step outside such a limit? If so, let her declare herself!”
All shook their heads, and the August Aunt proceeded: “Let the writer
record this as the opinion of every lady of the Imperial Household, and
let each name be separately appended.”
Had any desired to object, none dared to confront the August Aunt;
but apparently no beauty so desired, for after three nights’ sleepless
meditation, no other thought than this had occurred to any.
Accordingly, the writer moved from lady to lady and, under the
supervision of the August Aunt, transcribed the following: “The Ideal
Man is the earthly likeness of the Divine Emperor. How should it be
otherwise?” And under this sentence wrote the name of each lovely one
in succession. The papers were then placed in the hanging sleeves of the
August Aunt for safety.
By the decree of Fate, the father of the Round-Faced Beauty had, before
he became an ancestral spirit, been a scholar of distinction, having
graduated at the age of seventy-two with a composition commended by the
Grand Examiner. Having no gold and silver to give his daughter, he
had formed her mind, and had presented her with the sole jewel of his
family-a pearl as large as a bean. Such was her sole dower, but the
accomplished Aunt may excel the indolent Prince.
Yet, before the thought in her mind, she hesitated and trembled,
recalling the lesson of the gold-fish; and it was with anxiety that
paled her roseate lips that, on a certain day, she had sought the Willow
Bridge Pavilion. There had awaited her a palace attendant skilled with
the brush, and there in secrecy and dire affright, hearing the footsteps
of the August Aunt in every rustle of leafage, and her voice in the
call of every crow, did the Round-Faced Beauty dictate the following
composition:--
“Though the sky rain pearls, it cannot equal the beneficence of the Son
of Heaven. Though the sky rain jade it cannot equal his magnificence. He
has commanded his slave to describe the qualities of the Ideal Man.
How should I, a mere woman, do this? I, who have not seen the Divine
Emperor, how should I know what is virtue? I, who have not seen the
glory of his countenance, how should I know what is beauty? Report
speaks of his excellencies, but I who live in the dark know not. But to
the Ideal Woman, the very vices of her husband are virtues. Should he
exalt another, this is a mark of his superior taste. Should he dismiss
his slave, this is justice. To the Ideal Woman there is but one Ideal
Man--and that is her lord. From the day she crosses his threshold, to
the day when they clothe her in the garments of Immortality, this is her
sole opinion. Yet would that she might receive instruction of what only
are beauty and virtue in his adorable presence.”
This being written, she presented her one pearl to the attendant and
fled, not looking behind her, as quickly as her delicate feet would
permit.
On the seventh day the compositions, engraved on ivory and bound with
red silk and tassels, were presented to the Emperor, and for seven
days more he forgot their existence. On the eighth the High Chamberlain
ventured to recall them to the Imperial memory, and the Emperor glancing
slightly at one after another, threw them aside, yawning as he did so.
Finally, one arrested his eyes, and reading it more than once he laid it
before him and meditated. An hour passed in this way while the forgotten
Lord Chamberlain continued to kneel. The Son of Heaven, then raising his
head, pronounced these words: “In the society of the Ideal Woman, she to
whom jealousy is unknown, tranquillity might possibly be obtained. Let
prayer be made before the Ancestors with the customary offerings, for
this is a matter deserving attention.”
A few days passed, and an Imperial attendant, escorted by two mandarins
of the peacock-feather and crystal-button rank, desired an audience of
the August Aunt, and, speaking before the curtain, informed her that his
Imperial Majesty would pay a visit that evening to the Hall of Tranquil
Longevity. Such was her agitation at this honour that she immediately
swooned; but, reviving, summoned all the attendants and gave orders for
a banquet and musicians.
Lanterns painted with pheasants and exquisite landscapes were hung on
all the pavilions. Tapestries of rose, decorated with the Five-Clawed
Dragons, adorned the chambers; and upon the High Seat was placed a robe
of yellow satin embroidered with pearls. All was hurry and excitement.
The Blossoms of the Palace were so exquisitely decked that one grain
more of powder would have made them too lily-like, and one touch more of
rouge, too rosecheeked. It was indeed perfection, and, like lotuses upon
a lake, or Asian birds, gorgeous of plumage, they stood ranged in the
outer chamber while the Celestial Emperor took his seat.
The Round-Faced Beauty wore no jewels, having bartered her pearl for her
opportunity; but her long coat of jade-green, embroidered with golden
willows, and her trousers of palest rose left nothing to be desired. In
her hair two golden peonies were fastened with pins of kingfisher work.
The Son of Heaven was seated upon the throne as the ladies approached,
marshaled by the August Aunt. He was attired in the Yellow Robe with the
Flying Dragons, and upon the Imperial Head was the Cap, ornamented
with one hundred and forty-four priceless gems. From it hung the twelve
pendants of strings of pearls, partly concealing the august eyes of the
Jade Emperor. No greater splendour can strike awe into the soul of man.
At his command the August Aunt took her seat upon a lesser chair at the
Celestial Feet. Her mien was majestic, and struck awe into the assembled
beauties, whose names she spoke aloud as each approached and prostrated
herself. She then pronounced these words:
“Beautiful ones, the Emperor, having considered the opinions submitted
by you on the subject of the Superior Man, is pleased to express his
august commendation. Dismiss, therefore, anxiety from your minds, and
prepare to assist at the humble concert of music we have prepared for
his Divine pleasure.”
Slightly raising himself in his chair, the Son of Heaven looked down
upon that Garden of Beauty, holding in his hand an ivory tablet bound
with red silk.
“Lovely ladies,” he began, in a voice that assuaged fear, “who among you
was it that laid before our feet a composition beginning thus--‘Though
the sky rain pearls’?”
The August Aunt immediately rose.
“Imperial Majesty, none! These eyes supervised every composition. No
impropriety was permitted.”
The Son of Heaven resumed: “Let that lady stand forth.”
The words were few, but sufficient. Trembling in every limb, the
Round-Faced Beauty separated herself from her companions and prostrated
herself, amid the breathless amazement of the Blossoms of the Palace. He
looked down upon her as she knelt, pale as a lady carved in ivory, but
lovely as the lotus of Chang-Su. He turned to the August Aunt. “Princess
of Han, my Imperial Aunt, I would speak with this lady alone.”
Decorum itself and the custom of Palaces could not conceal the
indignation of the August Aunt as she rose and retired, driving the
ladies before her as a shepherd drives his sheep.
The Hall of Tranquil Longevity being now empty, the Jade Emperor
extended his hand and beckoned the Round-Faced Beauty to approach. This
she did, hanging her head like a flower surcharged with dew and swaying
gracefully as a wind-bell, and knelt on the lowest step of the Seat of
State.
“Loveliest One,” said the Emperor, “I have read your composition.
I would know the truth. Did any aid you as you spoke it? Was it the
thought of your own heart?”
“None aided, Divine,” said she, almost fainting with fear. “It
was indeed the thought of this illiterate slave, consumed with an
unwarranted but uncontrollable passion.”
“And have you in truth desired to see your Lord?”
“As a prisoner in a dungeon desires the light, so was it with this low
person.”
“And having seen?”
“Augustness, the dull eyes of this slave are blinded with beauty.”
She laid her head before his feet.
“Yet you have depicted, not the Ideal Man, but the Ideal Woman. This was
not the Celestial command. How was this?”
“Because, O versatile and auspicious Emperor, the blind cannot behold
the sunlight, and it is only the Ideal Woman who is worthy to comprehend
and worship the Ideal Man. For this alone is she created.”
A smile began to illuminate the Imperial Countenance. “And how, O
Round-Faced Beauty, did you evade the vigilance of the August Aunt?”
She hung her head lower, speaking almost in a whisper. “With her one
pearl did this person buy the secrecy of the writer; and when the August
Aunt slept, did I conceal the paper in her sleeve with the rest, and her
own Imperial hand gave it to the engraver of ivory.”
She veiled her face with two jade-white hands that trembled excessively.
On hearing this statement the Celestial Emperor broke at once into a
very great laughter, and he laughed loud and long as a tiller of wheat.
The Round-Faced Beauty heard it demurely until, catching the Imperial
eye, decorum was forgotten and she too laughed uncontrollably. So they
continued, and finally the Emperor leaned back, drying the tears in his
eyes with his august sleeve, and the lady, resuming her gravity, hid her
face in her hands, yet regarded him through her fingers.
When the August Aunt returned at the end of an hour with the ladies,
surrounded by the attendants with their instruments of music, the
Round-Faced Beauty was seated in the chair that she herself had
occupied, and on the whiteness of her brow was hung the chain of pearls,
which had formed the frontal of the Cap of the Emperor.
It is recorded that, advancing from honour to honour, the Round-Faced
Beauty was eventually chosen Empress and became the mother of the
Imperial Prince. The celestial purity of her mind and the absence of all
flaws of jealousy and anger warranted this distinction. But it is also
recorded that, after her elevation, no other lady was ever exalted in
the Imperial favour or received the slightest notice from the Emperor.
For the Empress, now well acquainted with the Ideal Man, judged it
better that his experiences of the Ideal Woman should be drawn from
herself alone. And as she decreed, so it was done. Doubtless Her Majesty
did well.
It is known that the Emperor departed to the Ancestral Spirits at an
early age, seeking, as the August Aunt observed, that repose which on
earth could never more be his. But no one has asserted that this lady’s
disposition was free from the ordinary blemishes of humanity.
As for the Celestial Empress (who survives in history as one of the most
astute rulers who ever adorned the Dragon Throne), she continued to rule
her son and the Empire, surrounded by the respectful admiration of all.