The Warning Voice

by Cao Xueqin

  ‘Bravo! An excellent line!’ said this person. ‘But it is, indeed, a little too melancholy. Don’t do any more. If you go on from there, the danger is that you may produce something forced and mechanical, which instead of offsetting the beauty of your line will merely spoil it.’

  Startled by this unexpected interruption, the two girls looked hard in the direction from which it came and with some surprise recognized the speaker as Adamantina.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ they asked her.

  ‘Hearing the sounds of your moon-watching party, followed later by the sound of a flute playing, I was tempted to come out and enjoy the moon myself. I wanted to see it over this open expanse of water, where it appears to most advantage, and as I approached, I could hear you both reciting. Such pure refinement constrained me to stay and listen. But there were lines which, in spite of their excellence, contained a note of almost decadent melancholy, lines which made me fearful for the person uttering them. That is why I came out of my concealment and prevented you from going on. Lady Jia has long since broken up the party. Everyone else in the Garden must be in bed by now. I wonder where your maids are. Doubtless they are somewhere looking for you. Are you not afraid of catching cold? Come with me, and I shall give you some hot tea to drink. It must be nearly dawn.’

  Dai-yu laughed.

  ‘I’d no idea the night was so far advanced.’

  The three of them walked together to Green Bower Hermitage. A faint light still flickered in the Buddha shrine and the incense in the burner gave off a tiny smoke. All the old lay-sisters were asleep. A little maid, nodding sleepily on Adamantina’s meditation mat, appeared to be the only person still up. She roused herself when Adamantina called to her and made some tea with water from the already boiling kettle. Just at that moment there was a knocking at the gate and the little maid hurried to open it. It turned out to be Nightingale and Kingfisher with two or three old womenservants, looking for their mistresses. They found their mistresses drinking tea inside.

  ‘Well!’ they said. ‘You’ve led us a fine old dance! We’ve been all over the Garden looking for you. We even tried Mrs Xue’s outside. In the end we happened to go to that little pavilion under the mountain, just as the caretakers were waking up. When we asked them about you they said, “There were two people talking outside on the covered verandah a while ago, then a third one came along and we heard them saying they were going to the Hermitage.” That’s how we knew you were here.’

  Adamantina told the little maid to take them round to the back where they could sit down and have some tea. She herself took paper, inkstone, brush and ink and began writing out the poem in linked couplets at the other two’s dictation.

  Dai-yu was impressed by Adamantina’s enthusiasm.

  ‘I have never before liked to ask for your opinions about poetry because I have never before seen you show so much interest,’ she said; ‘but since you now obviously are in the mood for discussing it, won’t you please favour us with some criticism? If you think that what we have done is no good at all, let us burn it; but if you can see ways of improving it, do please correct it for us.’

  ‘I certainly would not presume to alter any of it,’ said Adamantina smiling; ‘but as there are no less than twenty-three couplets here, I am pretty sure that all your best lines must have been used up by now, and that if you were to go on, there would be a danger that you might begin to flag. What I should have liked to do would have been to go on for you myself; but I am afraid that if I did, I might only succeed in adding a dog’s tail to your leopard-skin!’

  Dai-yu had never seen Adamantina compose poetry before and took her up eagerly on her obvious willingness to do so now.

  ‘Oh please do, if you have a mind to! Though our verses may be of little value, they will gain distinction by being associated with yours.’

  ‘In order to conclude what you have done so far,’ said Adamantina, ‘it will be necessary to bring the poem back to what we Buddhists call the “proper aspect”. If we continue to abandon reality and go chasing after the bizarre and the supernatural, we shall be guilty not only of unmaidenliness but also of losing sight of our subject.’

  Mesdemoiselles Lin and Shi agreed.

  Adamantina picked up the brush and began, muttering and writing by turns, until, having knocked off some dozen or so couplets, all in the same apparently effortless manner, she laid the brush down again and handed the paper over for the other two to read. This is what she had written:

  In golden censers figured incense burns;

  Unguents in their jade pots coagulate.

  A flute provokes the grieving widow’s weeping;

  She craves some warmth her bed’s chill to abate.

  Its cheerless hangings stir in the wind of autumn,

  Its love-ducks mock a mistress without mate.

  Thick dews make treacherous the slippery moss,

  And spears of frost the tall bamboos serrate.

  Better the winding lakeside path to follow,

  Or lonely hilltop to perambulate.

  Bound demons seem to writhe in the tortured rock-shapes;

  In the trees’ black shadows wild things pullulate.

  Light’s harbingers begin with the dark to struggle,

  And morning’s first dews to accumulate.

  Birds in a thousand treetops wake the woodland;

  In the echoing valley sad apes ululate.

  My footsteps tread the path’s familiar turnings,

  Nor need the stream’s source to investigate.

  From Green Bower convent sounds the matin bell;

  And Sweet-rice cocks the dawn anticipate.

  Why should this rapt enjoyment end in sorrow,

  Or timid cares our conscience irritate?

  Poets ought in themselves to find their pleasure,

  Not in the message they communicate.

  As daylight breaks let none of us plead tiredness,

  But over tea continue our debate.

  At the end of these couplets she had written down the title for the whole poem:

  Mid-Autumn Night in Prospect Garden: A Poem in Thirty-five Couplets

  Dai-yu and Xiang-yun were full of admiration.

  ‘Strange that we should be always looking round for poetic talent,’ they said, ‘and all the time we have had a poet like you on our very doorstep! These verses of yours make anything we have ever done look very amateurish.’

  ‘I must have another look at them tomorrow and touch them up a bit,’ said Adamantina smiling. ‘It’s already dawn. We really must go to bed.’

  Dai-yu and Xiang-yun got up and took their leave. Their maids left with them. Adamantina saw them outside the gate and stood a long while watching them go. They had already covered a good part of the way back when she at last went in again and closed the gate after her.

  Kingfisher wanted Xiang-yun to go to Li Wan’s place to sleep.

  ‘The people at Mrs Zhu’s are expecting you, miss. You ought to go there.’

  ‘Drop in there on the way and tell them not to wait up for me any longer,’ said Xiang-yun. ‘Mrs Zhu is still ill. If I went back there to sleep now, I’m afraid I might disturb her. If I’m going to disturb anyone, let it be Miss Lin.’

  When they reached the Naiad’s House, they found half the servants there asleep. The girls took off their ornaments and outer clothes, washed, and got into bed. Nightingale let down the bed-curtains, and having set the lamp down within easy reach of the bed, went out and closed the door.

  But neither of the girls could sleep, Xiang-yun because she always had difficulty in getting to sleep in a strange bed, and Dai-yu because her anaemic condition always made sleeping difficult for her, and because on this occasion she had long since passed beyond tiredness, so that for her sleep was in any case out of the question. For a long time the two of them lay tossing and turning on the bed.

  ‘Can’t you get to sleep?’ Dai-yu asked Xiang-yun eventually.

  ‘I can never get to sleep
in a strange bed,’ said Xiang-yun with a rueful laugh. ‘Anyway, I’m too tired to get to sleep. I’ll just have to lie and rest. Can’t you get to sleep either?’

  Dai-yu sighed.

  ‘This is no novelty for me,’ she said. ‘I don’t suppose I get more than ten really good nights’ sleep in a year.’

  ‘No wonder you’re always ill,’ said Xiang-yun.

  Our story continues in the following chapter.

  CHAPTER 77

  A wronged maid takes a loving last leave of her master And three young actresses seek to escape matrimony in the cloister

  To Lady Wang it appeared that, with the passing of the Mid-Autumn festival, Xi-feng’s condition had improved considerably. True, she was still far from well, but she could get about in the house now and even venture out of doors. The physician, who, notwithstanding this improvement, had on Lady Wang’s instructions been requested to continue his daily visits, was now recommending a course of pills designed to regularize her periods and make some new blood to replace the quantities she had lost. Observing that the prescription for these pills included two ounces of the best quality ginseng, Lady Wang ordered her maids to get out her own supply. After much rummaging they found a few pieces not much thicker than a large hairpin in one of the little medicine-boxes. When they showed them to Lady Wang, she thought them of too inferior a quality and ordered the maids to look again; but further searching produced only a large packet of ‘whiskers’ broken off from the rootlets.

  ‘When one doesn’t need this stuff, there is always plenty of it,’ said Lady Wang testily. ‘It is only when we want some that you can’t find any. I am always telling you: you must keep a proper check on things and you must keep them together, but you won’t do as I say: you will leave things lying around all over the place, and then afterwards you never know where to look for them.’

  ‘I think this is all the ginseng we’ve got,’ said Suncloud. ‘That time Lady Xing came for some, I think she must have taken it all.’

  ‘Nonsense!’ said Lady Wang. ‘Go and look again. And look properly this time!’

  Suncloud had to go off and search some more. She came back bearing several packets of herbs.

  ‘I don’t know what is in these, Your Ladyship. If there isn’t any ginseng in any of these, then we really haven’t got any.’

  Lady Wang opened the packets. She had no recollection of what they contained and could not identify the contents, but she could tell at a glance that none of them contained any ginseng. She sent someone to Xi-feng’s room to ask if Xi-feng had got any herself. Xi-feng came over to reply.

  ‘I’ve only got extract of ginseng,’ she said. ‘Actually I have got a few dried leaves and whiskers, but they are not of good quality and I use them every day in my infusions.’

  Lady Wang was obliged to ask Lady Xing; but she, too, was unable to oblige.

  Lady Wang was now reduced to going round in person to Grandmother Jia and begging some from her. Grandmother Jia at once asked Faithful to get out whatever remained of her own supply. Fortunately there was still a large packetful. The roots were of various sizes, but mostly about the thickness of a finger. Faithful weighed out two ounces and gave them to Lady Wang, who carried them back to her own apartment and there handed them over to Zhou Rui’s wife, together with the packets of unidentified herbs, instructing her to get one of the pages to carry them to the doctor. While he was about it, she said, he could determine what the herbs were and write their names on the packets.

  When Zhou Rui’s wife reappeared some time later, she was carrying not only the packets of herbs but also the ginseng.

  ‘He’s written the names on the packets,’ she said. ‘But this ginseng – he says it’s very high quality ginseng, but it’s too old. He says ginseng isn’t like other medicines: no matter how good it is, after a hundred years or so it turns into dust. This ginseng here hasn’t turned into dust yet, but he says it’s already dried-up, like rotten wood. It’s got no goodness in it. He told me to bring it back. He said tell Her Ladyship to try and get hold of some a bit fresher than this. It doesn’t matter about the roots being a bit on the thin side as long as it’s fresh.’

  Lady Wang bowed her head and thought for some moments in silence.

  ‘I suppose there’s nothing else for it. We shall just have to buy two ounces. – Take this stuff away!’ she said, feeling no inclination to examine the packets. One of the maids removed them while she continued with her instructions to Zhou Rui’s wife. ‘Tell our buyer to pick out ginseng of the very best quality. He is to get it as cheaply as he can, of course, but it must be high quality ginseng. Oh, and if Lady Jia should ask any of you about this, tell her that we used the ginseng she gave us. Don’t go prattling to her about what the doctor said.’

  Zhou Rui’s wife was about to go off on her errand when Bao-chai, who happened to be sitting in the room, smilingly intervened.

  ‘Just a minute, Aunt. There is really no good ginseng to be had in the shops nowadays. If the dealers ever get hold of a whole root, they cut it into two or three sections which they carve into shape and graft crowns and rootlets onto so that they can make more money by passing off each section as a whole root. Our firm has quite a lot to do with the ginseng suppliers. If I had a word with Mamma about this, I am sure Pan could arrange for one of our people to get two ounces of whole, uncut root from the suppliers. It might cost rather a lot, but at least you could be sure that you were getting ginseng of the very highest quality.’

  ‘You are so knowledgeable!’ said Lady Wang gratefully. ‘Would you do that then? I am sure it would be better for the request to come from you.’

  Bao-chai left immediately and was gone for a long time.

  ‘He’s sent someone to see about it,’ she said when she got back. ‘We shall have a reply by this evening. That means that we ought to be able to get the stuff first thing tomorrow. That isn’t too long to wait, is it?’

  Lady Wang was delighted, though her comment was a somewhat rueful one.

  ‘We have always kept a supply of ginseng in the past, and we have given I don’t know how much away to other people; but now that we want some ourselves, we have to run around looking for it elsewhere.’

  She sighed.

  ‘Although ginseng is so costly, it is only a medicine,’ said Bao-chai consolingly. ‘As such it ought to be given away to others, so that its benefit may be spread as widely as possible. People in our position cannot behave like ill-bred parvenus who hoard their ginseng like an heirloom and can only under the most exceptional circumstances be induced to part with any.’

  Lady Wang nodded.

  ‘Yes, I suppose you are right.’

  A little later, after Bao-chai had gone and there was no one else with her in the room, Lady Wang called Zhou Rui’s wife over to ask about another matter.

  ‘When you made that search in the Garden the other day, did you find what you were looking for?’

  Zhou Rui’s wife had already consulted Xi-feng about what Lady Wang should be told and Xi-feng had insisted that there should be no concealment; she therefore told her everything. Lady Wang was deeply shocked. When she had somewhat recovered from her surprise and begun thinking what to do, it occurred to her that, as Chess was Ying-chun’s maid and therefore really a member of Lady Xing’s establishment, it would first be necessary to acquaint Lady Xing with the facts before proceeding any further. Zhou Rui’s wife had her own ideas on the subject.

  ‘Lady Xing was so angry with Wang Shan-bao’s wife for meddling that she boxed her ears and Wang Shan-bao’s wife has kept at home ever since, pretending to be ill. She certainly won’t have spoken to Lady Xing about this matter because Chess is her own daughter’s child and it would be like slapping her own face if she did so. I expect she’s pretending to have forgotten all about it and is just waiting for the whole affair to blow over. If I report it, Lady Xing will like as not take umbrage and say that I am interfering. It would be best simply to take Chess and the things we found al
ong to her and let her work it all out for herself. Probably she’ll give Chess a beating and have her married to one of the boys and pick another maid for Miss Ying and that will be the end of the matter. But if I just go along and tell her, without taking Chess or the things, she’ll probably think up some excuse for doing nothing. “If your mistress has found this out,” she’ll say, “why doesn’t she deal with it herself? Why do you come here asking me about it?” That way it will get put off. Then suppose when no one is looking the girl finds some means of doing away with herself? We shall have a fine to-do on our hands! She’s already been under guard now for two or three days. If we don’t do something about her soon, we shall be simply asking for trouble.’

  Lady Wang reflected for some moments.

  ‘Yes, you are right,’ she said at last. ‘Do as you have suggested straight away then, and after that we will deal with our own young harpies.’

  Now that she had her commission, Zhou Rui’s wife got together several of the other women and took them with her to Ying-chun’s apartment. Ying-chun listened with tears in her eyes while Zhou Rui’s wife explained what she had come about, and it was evident that the idea of parting with Chess distressed her; on the other hand, as she had now heard something about the raid from the other maids and knew that this matter was connected in some way with morality, she felt that however painful the parting might be, there was probably nothing she could do to prevent it. Chess was unaware of this. She had pleaded with Ying-chun the morning after the discovery and was convinced that Ying-chun could save her if she had a mind to. It could only be her habitual reluctance to speak out, her usual weak irresolution, that now kept her silent. When it became clear that her mistress was determined to say nothing and that there was to be no escape for her, Chess fell down on her knees and reproached her tearfully.

  ‘You have a cruel heart, miss! All through these last few days you have allowed me to go on hoping, but now, when the time comes, you won’t say a single word to help me!’

  ‘You surely don’t expect Miss Ying to keep you?’ said Zhou Rui’s wife indignantly. ‘Even if she did, what would all the other people in the Garden say? And how would you be able to look them in the face after what you have done? Take my advice: the best thing you can do is to pack your things up and get out of here as quickly as possible, before anyone else has had a chance of finding out what you have been up to.’