The Warning Voice

by Cao Xueqin

  She and the other maids then left.

  Bao-yu was now able to tell Parfumée about his encounter with Nénuphar – how he had lied to protect her and how, feeling unable to answer his question herself, she had referred him to Parfumée for an explanation.

  ‘So who was she making the offering for?’

  Parfumée’s eyes reddened slightly and she sighed.

  ‘Oh, Nénuphar is crazy.’

  ‘Why?’ said Bao-yu. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘It was for Pivoine,’ said Parfumée, ‘the girl in our troupe who died.’

  ‘There’s nothing crazy about that,’ said Bao-yu, ‘if they were friends.’

  ‘Friends!’ said Parfumée. “They were more than that. It was Nénuphar’s soppy ideas that started it all. You see, Nénuphar is our Principal Boy and Pivoine always played opposite her as Principal Girl. They became so accustomed to acting the part of lovers on the stage, that gradually it came to seem real to them and Nénuphar began carrying on as if they were really lovers. When Pivoine died, Nénuphar cried herself into fits, and even now she still thinks about her. That’s why she makes offerings to her on feast-days. When Étamine took over the roles that Pivoine used to play, Nénuphar became just the same towards her. We even teased her about it: “Have you forgotten your old love then, now that you’ve got yourself a new one?” But she said, “No, I haven’t forgotten. It’s like when a man loses his wife and remarries. He can still be faithful to the first wife, as long as he keeps her memory green.” Did you ever hear anything so soppy in your life?’

  ‘Soppy’ or whatever it was, there was a strain in Bao-yu’s own nature which responded to it with a powerful mixture of emotions: pleasure, sorrow, and an unbounded admiration for the little actress. He took Parfumée’s hands in his own and told her with great earnestness what she must say to Nénuphar.

  ‘Tell her never, never to use that paper stuff again. “Spirit money” is a superstitious invention of modern times: you’ll find nothing about it in the teachings of Confucius. All she needs to do when feast-days come round is to light a little incense in a burner. Provided that it’s done with reverence, that’s all that’s needed for conveying one’s feelings to the dead. It’s the sincerity with which we make the offering, not the offering itself that counts. You see that burner on the table over there? Whenever I want to remember someone dear to me – it doesn’t necessarily have to be on a feast-day or any particular day, by the way – I light some incense in it and put out a cup of fresh tea or water, or sometimes some flowers or fruit if I have any. You can even use “unclean foods” – as long as they’re devoutly offered: that’s the important thing. Tell her not to go burning that paper stuff any more.’

  Parfumée promised. After that she finished off the gruel. Then someone came in to say that Grandmother Jia had got back.

  Of that you shall hear more in the next chapter.

  CHAPTER 59

  By Willow Walk the conservers of property resort to violence and abuse And at Green Delights the defenders of law and order invoke a higher authority

  Hearing that his grandmother and the other ladies were back, Bao-yu put on an extra garment and shuffled off, walking-stick in hand, to greet them. He found them tired out by the taxing routine of the past few days and anxious to retire to bed as soon as possible. Nothing of interest happened during that night. The ladies were up again at four o’clock next morning and off once more to the Palace.

  The date of their departure for the mausoleum was fast approaching. Faithful, Amber, Parrot and Pearl busied themselves getting together the things that Grandmother Jia would need on the journey, while Silver, Suncloud and Sunset did the same for Lady Wang. When all was ready, they went over everything, item by item, with the most senior of the servants who were accompanying their mistresses. There were altogether sixteen of these: six maids and ten older women. The male servants, who are not included in that number, were meanwhile preparing the mule-litters that their mistresses would ride in and getting the harness and other gear into good order. Faithful and Silver were not among the sixteen. They were to stay behind and look after their mistresses’ apartments while they were away.

  Some days before the funeral cortège was due to set out, the maids packed up the covers and hangings of their mistresses’ travelling-beds. These were collected by a party of four or five women, who, with the aid of some menservants, took them by cart through the back streets to the lodgings where their mistresses were to spend the night before their departure and put them up ready for them to sleep in.

  The Jia ladies and their retinue left the mansion the day before the cortège was due to start. Grandmother Jia and Jia Rong’s wife shared the first litter; Lady Wang followed on her own in the second; Cousin Zhen and the menservants provided them with a mounted escort. Then followed several large covered carts in which the maids and womenservants were travelling. The carts also carried a large number of bundles containing changes of clothing for the ladies. The other members of the family, led by Aunt Xue and You-shi, accompanied the little procession as far as the outer threshold of the main gate to see the old lady off.

  While the column was reforming itself in the street, Jia Lian appeared on horseback at the head of a small party of mounted grooms. He shepherded his parent’s litters into place between those of Grandmother Jia and Lady Wang, then, fearful of the possible consequences of leaving the baggage train with its female freight unguarded, trotted back to a position behind the carts and, with his mounted followers, brought up the rear.

  Inside the mansion Lai Da greatly increased the numbers of the watch and ordered the entrances to the two main courtyards to be kept permanently closed. Anyone wanting to go in or out of the mansion now had to do so through the small side gate on the west corner. The ornamental gate dividing the outer from the inner part of the mansion was closed at sundown. So, too, were the main and side gates of the Garden. The gate which the cousins normally used for getting into or out of the rear part of Lady Wang’s quarters and the gate on the east side which gave access to the corner gate of Aunt Xue’s courtyard were left open. Since they affected only the intercommunication of the already sealed-off inner parts of the mansion, it did not seem necessary to close them. Faithful and Silver shut up the living-rooms normally occupied by their mistresses and went to sleep with the other maids in the servants’ quarters at the back. Each day at sundown Lin Zhi-xiao’s wife conducted a party of ten or so senior women into the Garden to police it during the night. The number of pages employed in the gallery outside for the purpose of sounding the night-watches was increased. Everything was done, in short, to ensure that the security of the mansion was maintained.

  *

  Waking one fine, fresh morning from vernal slumbers, Bao-chai, on raising the bed-curtain and stepping down into the room, became sensible of a very slight chilliness in the air, the reason for which was apparent when she opened the door and looked out. A little shower, falling in the last watch before dawn, had refreshed the earth and turned the mosses everywhere a more brilliant shade of green. She went in again and called to the others to get up.

  While they were washing, Xiang-yun complained of an irritation in her cheeks which she feared might herald an outbreak of the mild eczema she sometimes suffered from and asked Bao-chai for some rose-root orris to put on them.

  ‘I gave the last of it to Qin a few days ago,’ said Bao-chai. ‘Frowner has a lot. I had been meaning to ask her for some, but as I haven’t had any trouble with my own cheeks this year, I forgot about it.’

  She ordered Oriole to go and get some. As Oriole was about to leave, Étamine said that she would like to go with her because she wanted to talk to Nénuphar. The two girls set off from All-spice Court, chattering and laughing as they went.

  At Willow Walk they followed the line of the embankment. The trailing golden strings of the weeping willows were already flecked with emerald.

  ‘Do you know how to weave things with these?’ Oriole s
milingly asked her companion.

  ‘What sort of things?’ said Étamine.

  ‘Oh, things to look at, things to use – all sorts. Just wait while I break off a few and I’ll weave a little basket out of them. I’ll leave the leaves on, then, if we fill it with different kinds of flowers, it will look ever so pretty.’

  Temporarily forgetting about the orris-powder, she reached up and broke off some of the tender willow-twigs. She got Étamine to hold them for her; then, as they walked along together, she plaited them into a little basket. From time to time she stopped to pick a flower or two that grew beside the way. The finished basket was a pretty little open-work one with a handle, bursting all over with the greenery which she had been careful not to pull off. When it was filled up and stuck all over with flowers, it looked really charming. Étamine was enraptured:

  ‘Oh, Oriole, do let me have it!’

  ‘We’ll give this one to Miss Lin,’ said Oriole. ‘We can pick some more twigs on the way back and I’ll make baskets like this for you all.’

  By this time the two girls had arrived at the Naiad’s House. Dai-yu had not yet completed her toilet. She was very much taken with Oriole’s handiwork.

  ‘Ah, a living basket! Who made it?’

  ‘I did,’ said Oriole. ‘It’s for you, miss.’

  ‘Oh, but it’s charming!’ said Dai-yu, taking it. ‘No wonder they’re always saying how clever you are with your hands.’

  After admiring it a little longer, she told Nightingale to hang it up where she could see it.

  Oriole first inquired politely after Aunt Xue and then asked Dai-yu about the rose-orris. Dai-yu told Nightingale to wrap some up for her.

  ‘I’m better now,’ she told Oriole as she handed her the packet. ‘I feel like going out today for some exercise. Tell Chai that there’s no need for her to pay her call on Mamma today or to visit me. As soon as I’ve done my hair, Mamma and I will be coming over to her place. We can have our lunch there. We shall be quite a little family party!’

  Oriole promised to relay the message and went into Nightingale’s room to collect Étamine; but Étamine and Nénuphar had just reached the most interesting part of their conversation and were most unwilling to be separated. Oriole proposed a solution to Nightingale.

  ‘Your mistress is going over to our place presently. Why not let Nénuphar come with us now and wait for her there?’

  ‘By all means,’ said Nightingale. ‘She gets up to so much mischief, we shall be glad to have her off our hands for a bit!’

  She got out Dai-yu’s spoon and chopsticks, wrapped them up in a napkin of West Ocean linen, and held them out for Nénuphar.

  ‘Here you are: you can take these for her. May as well make yourself useful.’

  Nénuphar took the things from her and set off, smiling happily, with the other two. They made their way to Willow Walk again and Oriole broke off a lot more twigs and, sitting down on a nearby rock, began straightway plaiting them to make into another basket. She told Étamine to go ahead with the rose-orris and come back for her presently when she had delivered it; but both girls were fascinated by Oriole’s skilful weaving and could not tear themselves away. Oriole threatened to suspend work on the basket if Étamine did not do as she was told.

  ‘Come on,’ said Nénuphar. ‘I’ll go with you. We can hurry back in no time.’

  After they had gone, while Oriole sat plaiting on her own, Mamma He’s daughter Swallow walked up and smilingly asked her what she was making. Oriole was still talking to her when the other two got back. Swallow looked at Nénuphar curiously.

  ‘Tell me, what was that paper you were burning the other day when my Aunt Xia caught you? She was going to report you, but Bao-yu made out that it was she who was in the wrong, so she couldn’t go through with it. She was ever so angry. She came and told my mother all about it. What on earth did you do during all that time you were living outside together to make such an enemy of her?’

  Nénuphar sniffed.

  ‘I didn’t do anything. It’s because she’s so greedy. She can’t squeeze as much out of me as she used to be able to. To mention nothing else, look at all the food she and the others used to take home with them when they were working with us outside. You know they did.’

  Swallow laughed.

  ‘She’s my own aunt. I can’t very well criticize her in front of other people. I must admit, though, it does seem to be as Bao-yu once said. “A girl before she marries is like a priceless pearl, but once she marries the pearl loses its lustre and develops all sorts of disagreeable flaws, and by the time she’s an old woman, she’s no longer like a pearl at all, more like a boiled fish’s eye.” He said, “How can the same person, at different times in her life, seem like three completely different people?” – Of course, I knew at the time he was only talking his usual nonsense; but really there does seem to be some truth in it. I don’t know about other people’s families, but it’s certainly true of my mother and my aunt. The older they get, the more they seem to care about nothing else but money. When we were all living together at home, they used to complain that there weren’t any jobs for us that would bring in a bit of income. Then this Garden was built and I was lucky enough to be among those who were chosen to work in it – doubly lucky, in fact, because I was assigned to Green Delights. That meant that quite apart from the fact that they didn’t have to find my keep any more, they were getting an additional four or five hundred cash each month that I managed to save out of my wages. You’d have thought they’d have been satisfied with that, but oh no! Then they got jobs themselves, looking after these player-girls in Pear Tree Court. My Aunt Xia had Nénuphar for foster-daughter and my mother had Parfumée. So for this last year or two they’ve been really comfortably off. Now that you’ve all moved inside, of course, it’s rather out of their hands; but they won’t give up. It really makes you laugh. First my aunt having that row with Nénuphar, and then my mother having that row with Parfumée. That was over the shampoo. Parfumée had asked my mother I don’t know how many times to shampoo her hair for her. Then Parfumée’s monthly allowance came in and my mother had no excuse for putting her off any longer, so she bought the shampoo, but when she’d bought it, she told me to wash my hair with it first. Well, I didn’t like to do that. I mean, I’ve got money of my own, and even if I hadn’t, I could always get the stuff for washing my hair with from Aroma or Skybright or Musk without any trouble by simply asking for it. So I said no, I wouldn’t. So then she got hold of my younger sister and washed her hair first. Needless to say, when she called Parfumée after that there was a quarrel. Oh, and then she wanted to go and blow on Bao-yu’s soup. Oh dear, I could have died! I told her about the rule as soon as I saw her going in, but she wouldn’t believe me. Oh no, Mother knows best! So of course she made a fool of herself. It’s a good job there are so many of us working in the Garden and no one can ever remember who is related to who, otherwise they might get the impression that the people in my family do nothing but quarrel all the time.’

  ‘Incidentally, this place where you’ve chosen to do your basket-making is on the territory of another of my aunts – my father’s sister. Ever since she was put in charge of it, she’s treated it as if it were her own property. She slaves away on it from morning to night. What’s more, she makes me come and watch over it for her: she’s so terrified of any of it getting spoiled. It’s got so that I can hardly do my own job properly. And now that Mother’s moved into the Garden, she keeps an eye on it too. The pair of them watch over it like hawks. No one else is allowed to touch a blade of grass here. I don’t mind telling you, if they come along this way and find you’ve been picking their flowers and breaking their young willow-twigs, they won’t be at all pleased!’

  ‘In anyone else’s case, perhaps not,’ said Oriole; ‘but my case is different. When the Garden was divided up, it was agreed that daily supplies of stuff from it were to be sent to all the apartments. That included, apart from things to eat, flowers for everyone’s hair
and flowers to put in the vases. Now my mistress, it so happens, was the only one who said she didn’t want a daily supply of flowers. She said she would let them know whenever she wanted any, but up to now she never has. So you see, in my case they are hardly likely to object even if they do find out that I’ve been picking some.’

  These words were scarcely out of her mouth when who should appear, hobbling along on her stick, but this same aunt that Swallow had been talking about. Oriole and Swallow invited her to come and sit down on the rock. The old woman felt a pang of displeasure as her eye travelled from the little heap of broken willow-twigs to the freshly-picked flowers that Nénuphar and Étamine were holding, but since it was Oriole who appeared to be responsible, she forbore to complain of the vandalism and found something to grumble at her own niece about instead.

  ‘When I tell you to come here and keep an eye on things, you prefer to stay at home and play. Then when the others ask you to do something for them, you pretend that you can’t because you’re already working for me. You use me like a magic charm, so that you can do a disappearing act whenever there’s a job of work to be done!’

  ‘First you tell me to come here, then you’re afraid the others will want me so you tell me off for being here,’ Swallow protested. ‘I can’t be in two places at once, aunt!’

  ‘Don’t you believe her, missus!’ said Oriole teasingly. ‘She’s the one who picked all these things and pestered me to weave them for her. I tried to get rid of her, but she wouldn’t leave me alone.’

  ‘For goodness sake!’ said Swallow agitatedly. ‘Don’t make jokes like that. She’ll take you seriously.’

  Alas, it was all too true! This aunt of Swallow’s was a stupid old woman whose senile infatuation with money was such that beside it all human ties had long since ceased to count. At Oriole’s words the pent-up anguish with which she viewed this hateful spoliation of her domain found relief in action: she raised her stick and, with the presumptuous tyranny of old age, struck Swallow several times with it across the back.