took up arms against the Emperor Huang Ti (B.C. 2697-2597), but was
subsequently defeated in what was perhaps the first decisive battle of
the world.
[393] This favourite process consists in gently thumping the person
operated upon all over the back with the soft part of the closed
fists. Compare Lane, _Arabian Nights_, Vol. I., p. 551:--“She then
pressed me to her bosom, and laid me on the bed, and continued gently
kneading my limbs until slumber overcame me.”
[394] See No. LVI., note 315. A considerable number of the attendants
there mentioned would accompany any high official, some in the same,
the rest in another barge.
[395] Generally known as the “cut-wave God.”
[396] At all great banquets in China a theatrical troupe is engaged to
perform while the dinner, which may last from four to six hours, drags
its slow length along.
[397 See No. LIV., note 292.
[398] The name of a celebrated beauty.
LXX.
THE PRINCESS LILY.
At Chiao-chou there lived a man named Tou Hsün, otherwise known as
Hsiao-hui. One day he had just dropped off to sleep when he beheld a
man in serge clothes standing by the bedside, and apparently anxious
to communicate something to him. Tou inquired his errand; to which the
man replied that he was the bearer of an invitation from his master.
“And who is your master?” asked Tou. “Oh, he doesn’t live far off,”
replied the other; so away they went together, and after some time
came to a place where there were innumerable white houses rising one
above the other, and shaded by dense groves of lemon-trees. They
threaded their way past countless doors, not at all similar to those
usually used, and saw a great many official-looking men and women
passing and repassing, each of whom called out to the man in serge,
“Has Mr. Tou come?” to which he always replied in the affirmative.
Here a mandarin met them and escorted Tou into a palace, upon which
the latter remarked, “This is really very kind of you; but I haven’t
the honour of knowing you, and I feel somewhat diffident about going
in.” “Our Prince,” answered his guide, “has long heard of you as a
man of good family and excellent principles, and is very anxious to
make your acquaintance.” “Who is your Prince?” inquired Tou. “You’ll
see for yourself in a moment,” said the other; and just then out came
two girls with banners, and guided Tou through a great number of doors
until they came to a throne, upon which sat the Prince. His Highness
immediately descended to meet him, and made him take the seat of
honour; after which ceremony exquisite viands of all kinds were spread
out before them. Looking up, Tou noticed a scroll, on which was
inscribed, _The Cassia Court_, and he was just beginning to feel
puzzled as to what he should say next, when the Prince addressed him
as follows:--“The honour of having you for a neighbour is, as it were,
a bond of affinity between us. Let us, then, give ourselves up to
enjoyment, and put away suspicion and fear.” Tou murmured his
acquiescence; and when the wine had gone round several times there
arose from a distance the sound of pipes and singing, unaccompanied,
however, by the usual drum, and very much subdued in volume. Thereupon
the Prince looked about him and cried out, “We are about to set a
verse for any of you gentlemen to cap; here you are:--‘_Genius seeks
the Cassia Court_.’” While the courtiers were all engaged in thinking
of some fit antithesis,[399] Tou added, “_Refinement loves the Lily
flower_;” upon which the Prince exclaimed, “How strange! Lily is my
daughter’s name; and, after such a coincidence, she must come in for
you to see her.” In a few moments the tinkling of her ornaments and a
delicious fragrance of musk announced the arrival of the Princess, who
was between sixteen and seventeen and endowed with surpassing beauty.
The Prince bade her make an obeisance to Tou, at the same time
introducing her as his daughter Lily; and as soon as the ceremony was
over the young lady moved away. Tou remained in a state of
stupefaction, and, when the Prince proposed that they should pledge
each other in another bumper, paid not the slightest attention to what
he said. Then the Prince, perceiving what had distracted his guest’s
attention, remarked that he was anxious to find a consort for his
daughter, but that unfortunately there was the difficulty of
_species_, and he didn’t know what to do; but again Tou took no notice
of what the Prince was saying, until at length one of the bystanders
plucked his sleeve, and asked him if he hadn’t seen that the Prince
wished to drink with him, and had just been addressing some remarks to
him. Thereupon Tou started, and, recovering himself at once, rose from
the table and apologized to the Prince for his rudeness, declaring
that he had taken so much wine he didn’t know what he was doing.
“Besides,” said he, “your Highness has doubtless business to transact;
I will therefore take my leave.” “I am extremely pleased to have seen
you,” replied the Prince, “and only regret that you are in such a
hurry to be gone. However, I won’t detain you now; but, if you don’t
forget all about us, I shall be very glad to invite you here again.”
He then gave orders that Tou should be escorted home; and on the way
one of the courtiers asked the latter why he had said nothing when the
Prince had spoken of a consort for his daughter, as his Highness had
evidently made the remark with an eye to securing Tou as his
son-in-law. The latter was now sorry that he had missed his
opportunity; meanwhile they reached his house, and he himself awoke.
The sun had already set, and there he sat in the gloom thinking of
what had happened. In the evening he put out his candle, hoping to
continue his dream; but, alas! the thread was broken, and all he could
do was to pour forth his repentance in sighs. One night he was
sleeping at a friend’s house when suddenly an officer of the court
walked in and summoned him to appear before the Prince; so up he
jumped, and hurried off at once to the palace, where he prostrated
himself before the throne. The Prince raised him and made him sit
down, saying that since they had last met he had become aware that Tou
would be willing to marry his daughter, and hoped that he might be
allowed to offer her as a handmaid. Tou rose and thanked the Prince,
who thereupon gave orders for a banquet to be prepared; and when they
had finished their wine it was announced that the Princess had
completed her toilet. Immediately a bevy of young ladies came in with
the Princess in their midst, a red veil covering her head, and her
tiny footsteps sounding like rippling water as they led her up to be
introduced to Tou. When the ceremonies were concluded, Tou said to
the Princess, “In your presence, Madam, it would be easy to forget
even death itself; but, tell me, is not this all a dream?” “And how
can it be a dream,” asked the Princess, “when you and I are here
together?”
Next morning Tou amused himself by helping the Princess to paint her
face,[400] and then, seizing a girdle, began to measure the size of her
waist[401] and the length of her fingers and feet. “Are you crazy?”
cried she, laughing; to which Tou replied, “I have been deceived so
often by dreams, that I am now making a careful record. If such it
turns out to be, I shall still have something as a souvenir of you.”
While they were thus chatting a maid rushed into the room, shrieking
out, “Alas, alas! a great monster has got into the palace: the Prince
has fled into a side chamber: destruction is surely come upon us.” Tou
was in a great fright when he heard this, and rushed off to see the
Prince, who grasped his hand and, with tears in his eyes, begged him
not to desert them. “Our relationship,” cried he, “was cemented when
Heaven sent this calamity upon us; and now my kingdom will be
overthrown. What shall I do?” Tou begged to know what was the matter;
and then the Prince laid a despatch upon the table, telling Tou to
open it and make himself acquainted with its contents. This despatch
ran as follows:--“The Grand Secretary of State, Black Wings, to His
Royal Highness, announcing the arrival of an extraordinary monster,
and advising the immediate removal of the Court in order to preserve
the vitality of the empire. A report has just been received from the
officer in charge of the Yellow Gate stating that, ever since the 6th
of the 5th moon, a huge monster, 10,000 feet in length, has been lying
coiled up outside the entrance to the palace, and that it has already
devoured 13,800 and odd of your Highness’s subjects, and is spreading
desolation far and wide. On receipt of this information your servant
proceeded to make a reconnaissance, and there beheld a venomous
reptile with a head as big as a mountain and eyes like vast sheets of
water. Every time it raised its head, whole buildings disappeared down
its throat; and, on stretching itself out, walls and houses were alike
laid in ruins. In all antiquity there is no record of such a scourge.
The fate of our temples and ancestral halls is now a mere question of
hours; we therefore pray your Royal Highness to depart at once with
the Royal Family and seek somewhere else a happier abode.”[402] When
Tou had read this document his face turned ashy pale; and just then a
messenger rushed in, shrieking out, “Here is the monster!” at which
the whole Court burst into lamentations as if their last hour was at
hand. The Prince was beside himself with fear; all he could do was to
beg Tou to look to his own safety without regarding the wife through
whom he was involved in their misfortunes. The Princess, however, who
was standing by bitterly lamenting the fate that had fallen upon them,
begged Tou not to desert her; and, after a moment’s hesitation, he
said he should be only too happy to place his own poor home at their
immediate disposal if they would only deign to honour him. “How can we
talk of _deigning_,” cried the Princess, “at such a moment as this? I
pray you take us there as quickly as possible.” So Tou gave her his
arm, and in no time they had arrived at Tou’s house, which the
Princess at once pronounced to be a charming place of residence, and
better even than their former kingdom. “But I must now ask you,” said
she to Tou, “to make some arrangement for my father and mother, that
the old order of things may be continued here.” Tou at first offered
objections to this; whereupon the Princess said that a man who would
not help another in his hour of need was not much of a man, and
immediately went off into a fit of hysterics, from which Tou was
trying his best to recall her, when all of a sudden he awoke and found
that it was all a dream. However, he still heard a buzzing in his ears
which he knew was not made by any human being, and, on looking
carefully about he discovered two or three bees which had settled on
his pillow. He was very much astonished at this, and consulted with
his friend, who was also greatly amazed at his strange story; and then
the latter pointed out a number of other bees on various parts of his
dress, none of which would go away even when brushed off. His friend
now advised him to get a hive for them, which he did without delay;
and immediately it was filled by a whole swarm of bees, which came
flying from over the wall in great numbers. On tracing whence they had
come, it was found that they belonged to an old gentleman who lived
near, and who had kept bees for more than thirty years previously. Tou
thereupon went and told him the story; and when the old gentleman
examined his hive he found the bees all gone. On breaking it open he
discovered a large snake inside of about ten feet in length, which he
immediately killed, recognising in it the “huge monster” of Tou’s
adventure. As for the bees, they remained with Tou, and increased in
numbers every year.
FOOTNOTES:
[399] In this favourite pastime of the literati in China the important
point is that each word in the second line should be a due and proper
antithesis of the word in the first line to which it corresponds.
[400] See No. LXII., note 349.
[401] See No. LXIX., note 390.
[402] The language in which this fanciful document is couched is
precisely such as would be used by an officer of the Government in
announcing some national calamity; hence the value of these
tales,--models as they are of the purest possible style.
LXXI.
THE DONKEY’S REVENGE.
Chung Ch‘ing-yü was a scholar of some reputation, who lived in
Manchuria. When he went up for his master’s degree, he heard that
there was a Taoist priest at the capital who would tell people’s
fortunes, and was very anxious to see him; and at the conclusion of
the second part of the examination,[403] he accidentally met him at
Pao-t‘u-ch‘üan.[404] The priest was over sixty years of age, and had
the usual white beard, flowing down over his breast. Around him stood
a perfect wall of people inquiring their future fortunes, and to each
the old man made a brief reply: but when he saw Chung among the crowd,
he was overjoyed, and, seizing him by the hand, said, “Sir, your
virtuous intentions command my esteem.” He then led him up behind a
screen, and asked if he did not wish to know what was to come; and
when Chung replied in the affirmative, the priest informed him that
his prospects were bad. “You may succeed in passing this examination,”
continued he, “but on returning covered with honour to your home, I
fear that your mother will be no longer there.” Now Chung was a very
filial son; and as soon as he heard these words, his tears began to
flow, and he declared that he would go back without competing any
further. The priest observed that if he let this chance slip, he could
never hope for success; to which Chung replied that, on the other
hand, if his mother were to die he could never hope to have her back
again, and that even the rank of Viceroy would not repay him for her
loss. “Well,” said the priest, “you and I were connected in a former
existence, and I must do my best to help you now.” So he took out a
pill which he gave to Chung, and told him that if he sent it
post-haste by some one to his mother, it would prolong her life for
seven days, and thus he would be able to see her once again after the
examination was over. Chung took the pill, and went off in very low
spirits; but he soon reflected that the span of human life is a matter
of destiny, and that every day he could spend at home would be one
more day devoted to the service of his mother. Accordingly, he got
ready to start at once, and, hiring a donkey, actually set out on his
way back. When he had gone about half-a-mile, the donkey turned round
and ran home; and when he used his whip, the animal threw itself down
on the ground. Chung got into a great perspiration, and his servant
recommended him to remain where he was; but this he would not hear
of, and hired another donkey, which served him exactly the same trick
as the other one. The sun was now sinking behind the hills, and his
servant advised his master to stay and finish his examination while he
himself went back home before him. Chung had no alternative but to
assent, and the next day he hurried through with his papers, starting
immediately afterwards, and not stopping at all on the way either to
eat or to sleep. All night long he went on, and arrived to find his
mother in a very critical state; however, when he gave her the pill
she so far recovered that he was able to go in and see her. Grasping
his hand, she begged him not to weep, telling him that she had just
dreamt she had been down to the Infernal Regions, where the King of
Hell had informed her with a gracious smile that her record was fairly
clean, and that in view of the filial piety of her son she was to have
twelve years more of life. Chung was rejoiced at this, and his mother
was soon restored to her former health.
Before long the news arrived that Chung had passed his examination;
upon which he bade adieu to his mother, and went off to the capital,
where he bribed the eunuchs of the palace to communicate with his
friend the Taoist priest. The latter was very much pleased, and came
out to see him, whereupon Chung prostrated himself at his feet. “Ah,”
said the priest, “this success of yours, and the prolongation of your
good mother’s life, is all a reward for your virtuous conduct. What
have I done in the matter?” Chung was very much astonished that the
priest should already know what had happened; however, he now
inquired as to his own future. “You will never rise to high rank,”
replied the priest, “but you will attain the years of an octogenarian.
In a former state of existence you and I were once travelling
together, when you threw a stone at a dog, and accidentally killed a
frog. Now that frog has re-appeared in life as a donkey, and according
to all principles of destiny you ought to suffer for what you did; but
your filial piety has touched the Gods, a protecting star-influence
has passed into your nativity sheet, and you will come to no harm. On
the other hand, there is your wife; in her former state she was not as
virtuous as she might have been, and her punishment in this life was
to be widowed quite young; you, however, have secured the prolongation
of your own term of years, and therefore I fear that before long your
wife will pay the penalty of death.” Chung was much grieved at hearing
this; but after a while he asked the priest where his second wife to
be was living. “At Chung-chou,” replied the latter; “she is now
fourteen years old.” The priest then bade him adieu, telling him that
if any mischance should befall him he was to hurry off towards the
south-east. About a year after this, Chung’s wife did die; and his
mother then desiring him to go and visit his uncle, who was a
magistrate in Kiangsi, on which journey he would have to pass through
Chung-chou, it seemed like a fulfilment of the old priest’s prophecy.
As he went along, he came to a village on the banks of a river, where
a large crowd of people was gathered together round a theatrical
performance which was going on there. Chung would have passed quietly
by, had not a stray donkey followed so close behind him that he turned
round and hit it over the ears. This startled the donkey so much that
it ran off full gallop, and knocked a rich gentleman’s child, who was
sitting with its nurse on the bank, right into the water, before any
one of the servants could lend a hand to save it. Immediately there
was a great outcry against Chung, who gave his mule the rein and
dashed away, mindful of the priest’s warning, towards the south-east.
After riding about seven miles, he reached a mountain village, where
he saw an old man standing at the door of a house, and, jumping off
his mule, made him a low bow. The old man asked him in, and inquired
his name and whence he came; to which Chung replied by telling him the
whole adventure. “Never fear,” said the old man; “you can stay here,
while I send out to learn the position of affairs.” By the evening his
messenger had returned, and then they knew for the first time that the
child belonged to a wealthy family. The old man looked grave and said,
“Had it been anybody else’s child, I might have helped you; as it is I
can do nothing.” Chung was greatly alarmed at this; however, the old
man told him to remain quietly there for the night, and see what turn
matters might take. Chung was overwhelmed with anxiety, and did not
sleep a wink; and next morning he heard that the constables were after
him, and that it was death to any one who should conceal him. The old
man changed countenance at this, and went inside, leaving Chung to
his own reflections; but towards the middle of the night he came and
knocked at Chung’s door, and, sitting down, began to ask how old his
wife was. Chung replied that he was a widower; at which the old man
seemed rather pleased, and declared that in such case help would be
forthcoming; “for,” said he, “my sister’s husband has taken the vows
and become a priest,[405] and my sister herself has died, leaving an
orphan girl who has now no home; and if you would only marry her....”
Chung was delighted, more especially as this would be both the
fulfilment of the Taoist priest’s prophecy, and a means of extricating
himself from his present difficulty; at the same time, he declared he
should be sorry to implicate his future father-in-law. “Never fear
about that,” replied the old man; “my sister’s husband is pretty
skilful in the black art. He has not mixed much with the world of
late; but when you are married, you can discuss the matter with my
niece.” So Chung married the young lady, who was sixteen years of age,
and very beautiful; but whenever he looked at her he took occasion to
sigh. At last she said, “I may be ugly; but you needn’t be in such a
hurry to let me know it;” whereupon Chung begged her pardon, and said
he felt himself only too lucky to have met with such a divine
creature; adding that he sighed because he feared some misfortune was
coming on them which would separate them for ever. He then told her
his story, and the young lady was very angry that she should have been
drawn into such a difficulty without a word of warning. Chung fell on
his knees, and said he had already consulted with her uncle, who was
unable himself to do anything, much as he wished it. He continued that
he was aware of her power; and then, pointing out that his alliance
was not altogether beneath her, made all kinds of promises if she
would only help him out of this trouble. The young lady was no longer
able to refuse, but informed him that to apply to her father would
entail certain disagreeable consequences, as he had retired from the
world, and did not any more recognise her as his daughter. That night
they did not attempt to sleep, spending the interval in padding their
knees with thick felt concealed beneath their clothes; and then they
got into chairs and were carried off to the hills. After journeying
some distance, they were compelled by the nature of the road to alight
and walk; and it was only by a great effort that Chung succeeded at
last in getting his wife to the top. At the door of the temple they
sat down to rest, the powder and paint on the young lady’s face having
all mixed with the perspiration trickling down; but when Chung began
to apologize for bringing her to this pass, she replied that it was a
mere trifle compared with what was to come. By-and-by, they went
inside; and threading their way to the wall beyond, found the young
lady’s father sitting in contemplation,[406] his eyes closed, and a
servant-boy standing by with a chowry.[407] Everything was beautifully
clean and nice, but before the dais were sharp stones scattered about
as thick as the stars in the sky. The young lady did not venture to
select a favourable spot; she fell on her knees at once, and Chung did
likewise behind her. Then her father opened his eyes, shutting them
again almost instantaneously; whereupon the young lady said, “For a
long time I have not paid my respects to you. I am now married, and I
have brought my husband to see you.” A long time passed away, and then
her father opened his eyes and said, “You’re giving a great deal of
trouble,” immediately relapsing into silence again. There the husband
and wife remained until the stones seemed to pierce into their very
bones; but after a while the father cried out, “Have you brought the
donkey?” His daughter replied that they had not; whereupon they were
told to go and fetch it at once, which they did, not knowing what the
meaning of this order was. After a few more days’ kneeling, they
suddenly heard that the murderer of the child had been caught and
beheaded, and were just congratulating each other on the success of
their scheme, when a servant came in with a stick in his hand, the top
of which had been chopped off. “This stick,” said the servant, “died
instead of you. Bury it reverently, that the wrong done to the tree
may be somewhat atoned for.”[408] Then Chung saw that at the place
where the top of the stick had been chopped off there were traces of
blood; he therefore buried it with the usual ceremony, and immediately
set off with his wife, and returned to his own home.
FOOTNOTES:
[403] The examination consists of three bouts of three days each,
during which periods the candidates remain shut up in their
examination cells day and night.
[404] The name of a place.