by Tang Xianzu
Although I try to think of it no more,
The lakeside rocks have made me hesitate.
What a hill of mounted rocks!
(Looks around the hill)
Oh, there’s a little box in the crevice. I’ll lean against the left side in order to see what it is.
(A rock slides down)
Why, it’s a red sandalwood case.
(Opens the case to find a portrait)
Well, it’s a portrait of Bodhisattva Guanyin. Bliss on me! I’ll take it to my study and pay my homage to her, rather than have it buried here.
(Walks back, holding the case in his hand)
(To the tune of Qianqiusui)
Under cragged rocks
Is a case of sandalwood,
Where Bodhisattva Guanyin is enshrined.
The peak of rocks,
The peak of rocks
Seems to fly across from foreign lands —
A wonder of the fate destined.
I shall perfume the portrait with incense
And kowtow on the ground;
I’ll add oil to the lamp from hence
To be endowed with bliss profound.
I’ll pay my homage here,
But will she ever hear?
(Arrives at the nunnery)
Now that I’m back in the nunnery, I’ll shelve the portrait till an auspicious day to do the service.
(Enter Sister Stone)
SISTER STONE:
So you are back already, Mr Liu!
LIU MENGMEI (To the tune of Coda):
Sister Stone,
A stroller can hardly find relief,
And daytime in the garden seems so brief.
You told me not to be sentimental, but you’d better show me
A place without regret or grief.
Although I love to live near hills and rills,
SISTER STONE:
I can’t escape from dreamy thrills.
LIU MENGMEI:
Where shall I hang the portrait in the hall?
LIU MENGMEI, SISTER STONE:
The flowery maid is smiling on the wall.
Scene Twenty-Five
Recalling Her Daughter
(Enter Chunxiang)
CHUNXIANG (To the tune of Wanxiandeng):
At sight of things their owner comes to my mind;
Once the owner dies, things lose their charm.
It’s true that “fairy fruits are hard to find
While precious blooms are prone to serious harm”.
(With a sigh)
Dear Miss Du, I couldn’t die with you;
To clear the incense ash is what I do.
I, Chunxiang, am maid to the Du family, with whom I came to Yangzhou. It’s been about three years since my young mistress died. Every day Madam wept at the thought of her daughter. My old master tries hard to console her, but can hardly reduce her sorrow. Even I, the maid, feel sad when I recall the kindness of Miss Du and her words on her deathbed. As today is Miss Du’s birthday, Madam orders me to prepare incense sticks and candles for a memorial service in the direction of Nan’an. Now everything is ready. Madam, will you come for the service?
(Enter Lady Zhen)
LADY ZHEN (To the previous tune):
Between Heaven and Earth,
There is no place to rest my bones.
I can’t see my daughter on the day of her birth;
Her soul is now in unknown zones.
(Weeps)
Oh Liniang, my dear daughter!
My life on earth has but limited lease,
As my heart is torn apart piece by piece.
“The clouds loom o’er the ridge,
The dense trees veil the distant pass.
CHUNXIANG:
The dreams in spring are groundless,
Yet they deprived the life of a lass.
LADY ZHEN:
Close to her mother’s heart,
My daughter is dead and gone,
But her scents won’t depart.
CHUNXIANG:
Incense smoke rises to the sky
While silver candles burn bright.
LADY ZHEN:
I pray to Buddha on her birthday,
And shed my tears of blood upon the rite.
(Wails)
LADY ZHEN,CHUNXIANG: Can her soul return?
Her second birth is what we yearn.”
LADY ZHEN:
Chunxiang, since Liniang died, I’ve been like a living corpse tormented by sorrow all the time. The books she read, the flowers she embroidered, the powder and perfume she used, the hairpins and shoes she wore — the sight of all these things would bring tears to my eyes and break my heart. It’s been three years now since she passed away, and today is her birthday again. The incense seems to burn from my heart, and the candles seem to shed tears from my eyes. I’ve told you to prepare for a service. I suppose everything is ready by now.
CHUNXIANG:
Yes, Madam, everything’s ready. Will you start the service?
LADY ZHEN (Kowtows):
“Incense smoke swirls and candles weep;
I sprinkle wine and burn incense as last year.
Where lies her lonely tomb of cloddy heap?
Her soul flies south toward eternal sphere.”
I, wife of Envoy Du, pray to great Buddha that my daughter Du Liniang be blessed by his mighty power and ascend to Heaven in no time.
(Rises to her feet)
Chunxiang, now that I’ve prayed to the Buddha, it’s time to offer some tea and rice to Liniang.
(To the tune of Xiangluodai)
Where is Liniang’s grave?
The heaven will not answer me.
Her shape in dreams I cannot clearly see;
Her voice alone rings wave on wave.
I raise myself on bed
And turn my head
To find flickering lamps instead.
(Weeps)
Oh Liniang my dear,
How can you bear to leave me here!
CHUNXIANG (Kowtows):
(To the previous tune)
With a fragrant stick I kowtow to you
To show my gratitude for you,
Wearing coats I got from you.
(Rises to her feet)
On your deathbed, you told me to call out for you from time to time. Now I’m calling you, “Mistress! Mistress!”
Can I get a response from you?
LADY ZHEN, CHUNXIANG (Wail):
With all her tender love
And boundless woe,
Why should she be doomed by Heaven above?
CHUNXIANG (Turns to the memorial tablet again):
Oh my mistress dear,
Will you go back to your old house from here?
(Kneels)
At your age, Madam, you can’t sustain too much grief. As Miss Du can’t come to life again, it’s worthless to hurt yourself by grieving over the dead. Take good care of yourself so that you can enjoy lasting wealth and honour with the master.
LADY ZHEN (Weeps):
Did you know, Chunxiang, that my lord had been considering to have a concubine as he did not have a son? His love for Liniang alone made him drop the idea. Now that Liniang is dead, we are left without an heir. What can I say to console him when we sit facing each other? Oh, good gracious!
CHUNXIANG:
Madam, I’m not in a position to give any advice, but from what you have said, I get to know that the master would like to have a concubine. In that case, you’d better let him have one so that he’ll beget a son.
LADY ZHEN:
Chunxiang, do you suppose that a concubine’s son will be as good as my own son?
CHUNXIANG:
Madam, I’m lucky to be brought up by you and I treat you as my own parent although we have no blood ties at all. If you treat the concubine’s son as your own, he’ll treat you as his own mother, I’m sure.
LADY ZHEN:
Well said! Well said!
My daughter perished like the wani
ng moon;
CHUNXIANG:
My moans resound like wailing poplar trees.
LADY ZHEN:
Our sorrows cannot fade and vanish soon;
LADY ZHEN, CHUNXIANG:
Tears fall into the wintry pond and freeze.
Scene Twenty-Six
Cherishing the Portrait
(Enter Liu Mengmei)
LIU MENGMEI:
“The palm leaves seldom hold the drops of rain;
The tips of peony stop the wind in vain.
Although the portrait itself throws no light,
The vernal sight illuminates the brain.”
When I felt bored for my sojourn at the nunnery, I took a leisurely walk in the back garden. Under the Taihu rocks, I picked up a scroll of a painting. It seems to be a portrait of Bodhisattva Guanyin, concealed in a precious case. As it has been raining for the past ten days, I didn’t think it fit to open the case. It happens that today is bright and clear. I’ll open the case and pay my homage to the portrait.
(Opens the case and unscrolls the portrait)
(To the tune of Huangying’er)
Like the autumn moon upon the Milky Way,
She stretches herself as a virgin.
Oh, Bodhisattva Guanyin
With her magnificence in full display!
An image of the goddess in Putuo
Reveals herself before me in full glow.
(Thinks)
But why doesn’t she sit on the lotus seat?
Wait, there’s something wrong:
Why does the skirt reveal a pair of tiny feet?
How can Bodhisattva Guanyin have a pair of tiny feet? Let me look more closely.
(To the tune of Erlangshenman)
Once more,
Let me have a closer look soon.
Well, I’ve got it.
This must be the portrait of Chang E,
A fairy lady dwelling in the moon.
If it’s Chang E, I’ll pay more homage to her.
I’d like to ask Chang E
Whether I will take the laurel with festoon.
But if it is Chang E,
Why is there no cloud to uphold her?
Why is there no laurel surrounding her?
If it’s neither Bodhisattva Guanyin nor Chang E, who on earth could look like this?
To my surprise,
I seem to know this maid.
Who is this maid of such fair size?
Let me have another look. Is this portrait done by a painter or by the fair maid herself?
(To the tune of Yingtixu)
Tell me, fair maid, where you were born,
And who has drawn your pretty form.
A maid with such a pretty form
Makes all the flowers feel forlorn.
A piece of nature as its norm,
Who could have got so close to her?
It’s impossible for a painter to get so close to her.
She must have painted her own form!
Wait, here at the top of the scroll, a few lines are inscribed in fine characters.
(Looks)
Why, it’s a quatrain!
(Reads)
“A close inspection shows her as her self;
A distant look displays her as an elf.
Her future spouse who shares the pillow
Will be found by the plum or willow.”
Oh, it’s the self-portrait of a fair lady. But why did she say “Will be found by the plum or willow”? It’s really fantastic!
(To the tune of Jixianbin)
Across the hill and rill, across the sky,
How could she know that I’ll come by?
Does it mean that I’ll gain fame?
I’ll wait, wait all the same
And have a closer look.
How could she know my name?
Let me think anew!
Has my dream come true?
How I long to see her!
(To the tune of Huangying’er)
As Chang E the fairy lady from the sky,
She moves her dainty shape
And trails her gown of crape.
Her virgin love is locked between her brows,
Which curve like verdant hills
With mists of hair from rills.
I gaze at her and she at me:
Up and down, right and left,
Our four eyes yearn to see.
How is it that she carries a twig of green plums in her hand as if she were holding me in her arms?
(To the tune of Tiyingxu)
Green plums in hand, she sings her verse,
Disturbing my quiet universe.
I seem to draw a cake to ease my greed;
She seems to look at plums to quench her need.
Oh my dear, my dear,
Her lotus bud of a tiny mouth
And rosy lips that smile
Display a graceful style.
She has a saddening tale to tell,
But lacks the breath to yell.
This fair lady is good at painting, poetry and calligraphy. Learned as I am, I’m no match to her. At this chance encounter, I’ll write a poem in the corresponding rhyme.
(Writes on the scroll)
“A precious painting shows her genuine self,
A wondrous fair lady if not an elf.
Here comes your spouse who’ll share the pillow,
Just as spring dwells in the plum and willow.”
(To the tune of Cuyulin)
She can paint,
She can write,
Her portrait has the hills and rills in sight.
Let me call out: “Fair lady, fair lady! My dear, my dear!”
Have you heard me calling you?
I’ll call out till you call back.
You seem to move your feet anew
And walk out of the scroll,
But you are still out of view.
Well, in my solitude, I’ll cherish, revere, call and praise her portrait from morning till night.
(To the tune of Coda)
It is my luck to find this portrait of a maid.
Is she someone I can’t evade?
Mistress, mistress!
Your intangible form will kill me, I’m afraid.
The painting art is by no means to blame;
I’ll always hang the portrait on the wall.
I’m puzzled by the verse that hides my name;
To wake from vernal dream is hard for all.
Scene Twenty-Seven
The Roaming Soul
(Enter Sister Stone)
SISTER STONE (To the tune of Guazhen’er):
Now that spring arrives at every hall,
The pillars find reflections on the pond.
When smoke of incense coils around the wall
And sounds of death-knells echo in a drawl,
I read the scripture for the World Beyond.
“When flowers fall onto the yellow earth,
The moon will gaze upon the mountain flanks.
I pick a solitary rose in mirth
As the east wind blows o’er riverbanks.”
I’ve been looking after Miss Du’s memorial shrine for over three years now. I’ve chosen this auspicious day to hold Taoist rites for guiding her soul to Heaven. The ritual banners have been hoisted outside the gate. I’ll wait and see who will attend the rites.
(Enter Young Nun and Novice)
YOUNG NUN (To the tune of Taipingling):
Above the hills and rills,
The moon ascends the rainbow.
A nun and a novice come and go.
NOVICE:
As it’s getting late, let’s stop over at the Plum Blossom Nunnery.
YOUNG NUN:
The incense smoke leaks from the windowsills.
I am head of the White Cloud Nunnery in Shaoyang County. We have just travelled to this place. As the ritual banners announce the Taoist rites, we’re just in time to mount the altar and join in the rites.
(Greets Siste
r Stone)
“The curling incense floats in the sky;
SISTER STONE:
You bring your wand and banner to the shrine.
YOUNG NUN:
I’d like to find a place where I can lie;
SISTER STONE:
Well, in your case,
A worldly nun recites a Taoist line.”
Where are you from, young sister?
YOUNG NUN:
I come from Shaoyang County and would like to stop over for the night here.
SISTER STONE:
You have to put up with the side room because the guestroom has been occupied by a Mr Liu from Lingnan, who is recuperating from his illness.
YOUNG NUN:
Thank you very much. By the way, may I ask the purpose of the evening rites?
SISTER STONE (Sighs):
Alas,
“Three years ago Miss Du died here;
We’ll send her soul to top celestial sphere.”
YOUNG NUN:
I see.
“It’s best to hold the Taoist rites tonight;
The incense I burn adds wings to the sprite.”
SISTER STONE:
That’s nice of you.
(Sound of bells and drums within)
YOUNG NUN, NOVICE:
It’s time for you to offer the incense.
SISTER STONE:
Lady Star of Life and Death, Lady Star of Rebirth,
(Offers the incense and kowtows)
(To the tune of Xiaonange)
I kindle a new fire
To light a pious stick
And offer it for Du Liniang.
YOUNG NUN, NOVICE (Kowtow):
Around the banners is the incense dense and thick;
In the breeze the gentle music rings.
Ladies of Stars,
With your mighty power,
Please send this flower
To the top celestial sphere.
As she still has her time on earth,
Please render her a rebirth.
Let her be reborn as a boy,
Let her be reborn as a maid,
Be married with eternal joy
And live long with your aid.
SISTER STONE:
I remember that Miss Du died of love for flowers. I’ve picked a sprig of plum blossoms today and placed it in a purified vase.
(Kowtows to Du Liniang’s memorial tablet)
(To the previous tune)
The purified vase in the room
In early spring sunshine
Holds a sprig of rosy bloom.
Miss Du,
Who is walking with you in your dream?
What a lonely soul with high esteem!
YOUNG NUN, NOVICE:
Sister, what would you say the purified vase represents? And what does the sprig of plum blossoms represent?
SISTER STONE:
The vase with its void
Holds the world minute.
It’s like the bloom of plums,