The Warning Voice

by Cao Xueqin

  ‘That’s true,’ said the women, smiling. ‘Miss Lin here didn’t know, so you can be quite sure the others wouldn’t. Even Bao-yu, although he goes outside quite a lot, has probably never seen one.’

  Aunt Xue now explained what a pawn ticket was. Xiang-yun and Dai-yu laughed incredulously.

  ‘The things people do for money! Is that what they do in your pawnshops, Aunt?’

  ‘That’s a funny question!’ said the women, laughing. ‘All crows are black, you know.’

  ‘Where did you find this?’ Aunt Xue asked again.

  But before Xiang-yun could reply, Bao-chai interrupted:

  ‘It’s an old ticket, Mamma; it was cancelled years ago. Caltrop has been using it to fool them with.’

  Aunt Xue believed her and did not pursue the matter.

  Shortly after that a messenger arrived from the Ning-guo mansion to say that You-shi would ‘like a word when convenient with Mrs Xue’ and Aunt Xue got up and left them. As soon as she had gone, Bao-chai asked Xiang-yun where she had found the ticket.

  ‘I saw Xiu-yan’s maid Signet handing it, very furtively, to Oriole and Oriole slip it between the pages of a book. They thought I hadn’t noticed. I had a peep when they’d gone, but I couldn’t make out what it was, and as I knew you were both here, I thought I would come over and see if either of you could make anything of it.’

  ‘But why should Cousin Xing be pawning her clothes?’ said Dai-yu, puzzled. ‘And why, having pawned them, should she want you, Chai, to have the ticket?’

  Bao-chai saw that Xiu-yan’s circumstances could no longer be concealed and explained to them both what had happened. Dai-yu, feeling ‘the fox’s sympathy for the hunted hare’, was much distressed, but Xiang-yun’s reaction was one of anger.

  ‘I’m going straight over to see Ying-chun about this,’ she said. ‘You’ll feel better, both of you, when I’ve given those beastly servants a piece of my mind.’

  She would have gone, too, had not Bao-chai restrained her.

  ‘Are you out of your mind? Sit down and stay where you are.’

  ‘If you were a man,’ said Dai-yu, laughing, ‘you could go around like a knight-errant putting the world to rights; but a Jing Ke in skirts is just plain ridiculous!’

  ‘All right then,’ said Xiang-yun, ‘if you won’t let me talk to Cousin Ying about it, let’s simply have Xiu-yan over to live with us.’

  ‘We’ll talk about that tomorrow,’ said Bao-chai.

  A servant put her head round the door to make an announcement:

  ‘Miss Tan and Miss Xi have called.’

  Hearing of their arrival, the three in the room fell silent.

  For further details of the visit our reader is referred to the next chapter.

  CHAPTER 58

  In which the cock-bird who mourns his mate is found to be a hen And a true heart is able to sympathize with a strange kind of love

  Our last chapter concluded with Tan-chun’s and Xi-chun’s arrival at the Naiad’s House, which put a sudden stop to the discussion of Xiu-yan’s affairs by the other three. Conversation was renewed after the new arrivals had inquired about Dai-yu’s health, but of a general, unserious nature, and shortly afterwards all four visitors took their leave and went their separate ways.

  *

  The Dowager Consort of the late Emperor whose illness we referred to in an earlier chapter had now passed away and all noblewomen and wives of officials resident in the capital had to put on the mourning appropriate to their rank and present themselves at the Palace. A Special Edict was published prohibiting the holding of musical or dramatic entertainments by persons of rank for a period of one year and banning the celebration of marriages between commoners for a period of three months. Every day Grandmother Jia together with Lady Xing, Lady Wang, You-shi and Jia Rong’s wife Hu-shi had to go to the Palace to take part in the ceremonies of mourning, seldom returning until well after two o’clock in the afternoon.

  These ceremonies, which took place in one of the side halls of the Palace, were due to last for twenty-one days, at the end of which time the body of the Consort was to be conveyed to the late Emperor’s mausoleum in Goodson prefecture, a distance of some ten days’ journey from the capital. On reaching there, the coffin was to lie in state for several more days while further ceremonies were performed preliminary to its final interment in the mausoleum. The whole expedition, from start to finish, would take about a month. Cousin Zhen and You-shi were both supposed to take part in it, which would mean that throughout that period both the Ning-guo and Rong-guo mansions would be left masterless. A family council was held and it was decided, in order that one person at least should be left in charge of the two mansions, to petition for You-shi’s exemption on the grounds that she was enceinte.

  At the same time Aunt Xue’s help was enlisted to keep an eye on the young people. For this purpose it was essential that she should move into the Garden; but it was something of a problem to know in which of its buildings she should stay. Bao-chai already had Xiang-yun and Caltrop living with her; Li Wan was having to accommodate Bao-qin, whom Grandmother Jia had placed temporarily in her care, and though Mrs Li and her girls were still at their uncle’s place in the city, they too were constantly dropping in on her and staying for three or four nights; Ying-chun was sharing with Xiu-yan; Tan-chun was fully occupied with household business, and in any case the noisy bickering of Aunt Zhao and Jia Huan, who were constantly coming round to pester her, would have made her apartment a highly unsuitable place for Aunt Xue to live in; and Xi-chun’s place was too small. That left only the Naiad’s House for her to move into.

  Aunt Xue did so the more readily because, in discussing these arrangements with her, Grandmother Jia had impressed upon her that Dai-yu was the young person most particularly in need of her care. And besides, Aunt Xue had always had a very great affection for Dai-yu. Now that they shared the same apartment she was able to give her undivided attention to Dai-yu’s welfare – to seeing that she had good food and enough of it, and that she took her medicines at the proper times. Never before had Dai-yu been so well looked after. She responded with a gratitude deeper than words, though it was by words that it was most often expressed: Aunt Xue was now her kind ‘Mamma’, and when Bao-chai and Bao-qin were present, she addressed them and referred to them exactly as if they were her elder and younger sisters. Grandmother Jia, who had been worried at the prospect of being separated, even for a month, from her orphaned granddaughter, was both relieved and happy to observe this new development.

  Aunt Xue, now that she was in the Garden, concerned herself only with the welfare of the cousins and disciplining of their maids; in other domestic matters, however important, she was unwilling to intervene. You-shi, too, although she visited the Rong-guo mansion daily, did little more than hear the roll-call and was most unwilling to exercise any real authority. As the only responsible person left in it she already had her hands full with the affairs of the other mansion and was kept extremely busy seeing that the temporary lodgings near the Palace which Grandmother Jia and the other ladies retired to in between ceremonies were kept regularly supplied with food and bedding and so forth.

  While the senior members of the Ning-guo and Rong-guo mansions were so busy, the stewards and stewardesses of the two mansions were no less occupied, some of them in accompanying their mistresses each day to and from the Palace, some in attending to the provisioning and maintenance of the temporary lodgings, and some as an advanced party who staffed the lodgings in readiness for their mistresses’ arrival.

  Lacking the discipline normally imposed by these officers, the domestics of both mansions who remained behind grew slovenly in their duties or took advantage of the exceptional circumstances to ally themselves with those placed temporarily in charge as a means of scoring off fellow-servants. Of the male staff at Rong-guo House only Lai Da and one or two others remained. Nearly all Lai Da’s most trusted lieutenants had gone. Owing to their inexperience he was finding the replacement
s he had made extremely unserviceable – and so stupid: their peculations were so transparently gross, their reports so patently unreliable, their recommendations so obviously biased; he would have had difficulty in enumerating all the defects he found in them or the troubles they caused him.

  At this time all the great families which kept troupes of actors or actresses in their households were beginning to disband them. Hearing this, You-shi, after discussing the matter with other members of the family, approached Lady Wang with the suggestion that their own troupe of actresses should be disbanded. The method by which she proposed to do this was economical.

  ‘We have, of course, bought these girls,’ she said. ‘Although they can’t keep up their music, there’s no reason why we shouldn’t use them as maids. It’s only really the instructors that we need to get rid of.’

  ‘No,’ said Lady Wang firmly. ‘We cannot treat them like servants. These are daughters of free men, sold into their profession because their parents could not afford to keep them. They have given us a year or two of good entertainment. Now that this opportunity of releasing them has arisen, we ought to give them each a few taels and let them go. That was certainly what our ancestors would have done; and I do not believe that we have become quite so degenerate or so ungenerous that we cannot, in this matter at least, follow the ancestors’ example. It’s true that we have a few members of an earlier troupe still living with us; but there was a special reason for their staying. They didn’t want to go, so we gave them employment and found husbands among the staff for them when they were old enough to marry.’

  ‘Very well, we shall ask them,’ said You-shi. ‘If they want to go, we can send for their parents to come and fetch them and give the money to their parents. That will be safest. Otherwise we shall have all sorts of dubious characters turning up here to collect them and selling them when they get them outside, and our kindness in freeing them will be wasted. Of course, any of them who don’t want to go can stay with us.’

  Lady Wang agreed and You-shi sent someone to Xi-feng to explain what had been decided. She also instructed the clerks in the counting-house to pay eight taels to each of the instructors and tell them that they were free to go where they liked. The costumes, theatrical properties and other movables in Pear Tree Court were carefully checked against the inventories and stored away and a caretaker was put in charge of the buildings.

  As for the little actresses, on interviewing them individually, You-shi found that hardly any of them wanted to go. Some said that their parents were alive but did not care for them and would only sell them again if they went back to them; others that they had no parents and had been sold by uncles or brothers; others that they had no relations at all that they could go to; others that they had become attached to the Jia family and did not want to leave. In the end all but three of them elected to stay. After what she had said, Lady Wang could scarcely refuse to have them.

  The three who were leaving were taken away by their foster-mothers to stay with them for the time being until their real parents could come to fetch them. Those who had chosen to stay were assigned to different apartments – mostly in the Garden – as servants, Élégante, the leader of the troupe, was reserved for Grandmother Jia; the ‘leading lady’, Parfumée, went to Bao-yu; Étamine, the soubrette, to Bao-chai; the ‘principal boy’, Nénuphar, to Dai-yu; Althée, the leading ‘painted face’, to Xiang-yun; Cardamome, the second ‘painted face’, to Bao-qin; Artémisie, who specialized in old men’s parts, to Tan-chun; and You-shi asked if she might keep Aubergine, who specialized in old women’s parts, for herself.

  The little actresses, though nominally in service, did nothing all day but wander about happily in the Garden, like uncaged birds rejoicing in their new freedom. Nobody made much effort to discourage them, as it was understood that they were wholly unaccustomed to waiting on other people and were none of them able to sew. It is true that one or two of them had the good sense to see that the future would be bleak for them without a craft, now that their theatrical training had been discontinued, and who applied themselves to learning domestic skills like sewing and spinning; but they were the exception.

  An important day in the obsequies of the late Consort arrived when it was necessary for Grandmother Jia and the other ladies to start out for their temporary lodgings near the Palace at four o’clock in the morning. After recruiting themselves there with a small collation, they proceeded to the Palace to attend the ghostly breakfast of the Deceased. When that was over, they went back to their lodgings and had lunch. Then, after a brief rest, they returned to the Palace and remained there for both the None and Vesper offerings. Then back to their lodgings again for dinner before finally returning home.

  The temporary lodgings were in the family temple of a high official in which perpetual devotions were maintained by a sisterhood of Buddhist nuns. The nuns occupied the two courtyards to east and west of the shrine-hall, but there were a great many spare rooms in these courtyards, all of them kept scrupulously clean by the nuns. The Rong-guo ladies had rented the rooms in the east courtyard and the Prince of Bei-jing’s ladies those in the west one. As they had to leave for the Palace and return from it at the same times, the two lots of ladies had plenty of opportunities of meeting each other, and many courtesies were exchanged between them. But it is not with these outside matters that we are concerned.

  Back, then, to the Garden. With Grandmother Jia and Lady Jia away for so much of the day and the prospect of their being away altogether during the month it would take them to travel to and from the mausoleum, there were a great many maids and womenservants with nothing much to do but wander about in it enjoying themselves. Their numbers were augmented by the women from Pear Tree Court, who were now attached to different apartments in the Garden. Suddenly there seemed to be dozens more people about in it than there ever had been before.

  The girl-actresses were arrogant little creatures, imperious and tyrannical towards the servants, demanding and fastidious about their food and clothing, sharp and disputatious with their tongues – in a word, thoroughly difficult characters to deal with. The Pear Tree Court women all hated them, but had not hitherto dared to quarrel with them openly. To these women the closing of the drama school was a great relief. Some of them, in their gladness to be free of it, were willing to let bygones be bygones. Others, less magnanimous, still nursed their rancour but, the diaspora having separated them from their former charges, dared not carry warfare against them into another’s territory.

  It was the day of the Spring Cleaning festival and Jia Lian, having prepared the usual offerings, had gone with Jia Huan, Jia Cong and Jia Lan to the Temple of the Iron Threshold outside the city to clean the family graves. Jia Rong, accompanied by a party of clansmen from the Ning-guo side of the family, had set out separately for the same destination. Of the young male members of the family only Bao-yu, having not yet wholly recovered from his illness, was unable to go. After lunch Aroma noticed that he was showing a disposition to sleep.

  ‘It’s such a fine day,’ she said, ‘why don’t you take a stroll in the Garden? If you lie down as soon as you’ve eaten, you won’t digest your food.’

  Bao-yu stepped somewhat reluctantly into a pair of slippers and, supporting himself with a walking-stick, shuffled off through the courtyard and out into the Garden.

  Care of the Garden and its produce had lately been put into the hands of female experts and, this being the busy time of year for gardeners, they were to be observed on every hand, trimming the bamboos, pruning trees and bushes, bedding plants out, planting bulbs and sowing seeds. Other women were moving over the surface of the lake in punts, dredging up mud from the bottom and planting lotus-roots. On a miniature mountain of rock overlooking the lake an appreciative audience consisting of Xiang-yun, Caltrop, Bao-qin and some of the maids sat watching them. As Bao-yu slowly made his way up to them, Xiang-yun cried out in mock alarm:

  ‘Quick, send the boats away! They’ve come to take Cousin Lin!’
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  Bao-yu blushed and laughed sheepishly.

  ‘People can’t help what they do when they’re ill. You shouldn’t make fun.’

  ‘It’s your fault for being so comical,’ said Xiang-yun. ‘Why do you always have to be so different? Even your illnesses are different from everyone else’s.’

  Bao-yu sat down with them for a while and watched the women working.

  ‘It’s a bit windy here,’ said Xiang-yun presently, ‘and the rock is rather cold to sit on. Don’t you think you ought to go indoors?’

  Bao-yu had already decided that he would like to go and see Dai-yu, so, hauling himself up with his walking-stick, he took his leave of the girls and walked off, over Drenched Blossoms Bridge and along the embankment on the other side.

  New growth hung from the weeping willows in strings of gold and the blossom-buds of the peach-trees had burst into a vermilion haze; but the big apricot-tree behind the rockery, its flowering past, was already in full leaf and covered with tiny apricots, each no bigger than a pea.

  ‘What a shame!’ he thought. ‘Just those few days in bed and I missed the apricot blossom.

  And in among the green leaves now

  The young fruit hangs from every bough.’

  He stood and gazed at the tree. They were Du Mu’s lines, written on his last visit to Hu-zhou, when he met the beautiful young dancer of a dozen years before and found that she was now a married woman with a brood of children. How did it go?

  The spring-time blossoms, white and red,

  Before the thieving wind have fled;

  And in among the green leaves now The

  young fruit hangs from every bough.