The trees we planted, you and I,
Had been stripped at random for fuel—
And whose were the ashes of this cooking-fire?
I, who have heard the orioles greet the dawn
In the jade halls of Nanking’s elegance,
Who have watched spring bloom on the Ch’in-huai river walks—
How could I dream that all would vanish
Like the melting of ice?
I saw the crimson balconies rise,
I saw the feasting of the guests;
I have seen all lie in ruins.
Where moss creeps over the rubble,
In times long gone I dreamed of love and glory.
Now I have seen it all, the rise and decay
Of half a hundred years.
They passed from here, the owners of those mansions:
Grieve not that lakeside demons weep by night
And the owl perches on the phoenix terrace.
It was so real, the dream of Ming revival,
It is so hard to give up the land we knew,
So hard to believe the map has been re-drawn.
Here is a song-set in lament for the South:
Let me wail unchecked as old age hastens nigh.
Master of Ceremonies [brushing away tears]: That was truly magnificent, but it brought so many tears.
Liu: For myself, I don’t think I can bear to drink any more. Let’s just chat for a while.
[Enter Hsu Ch’ing-chün wearing the black uniform of a magistrate’s runner of the Manchu regime.]
Hsu [unseen by the others, recites]:
I, who once escorted His Majesty,
Now stand guard to a district judge.
What hope for advancement have I,
A nameless runner for a local court?
[Speaks]: I am Hsu Ch’ing-chün, descendant of the Duke of Wei. Born to wealth and eminence, I lived a life of luxurious ease. But with the overthrow of the Ming dynasty, my family collapsed and I found myself alone in the world. The only way I could earn my living was as a magistrate’s runner here in Shang-yuan County. I hold an official warrant to track down loyalists who have gone into seclusion in these hills, and that is what I am engaged in now. [He looks about]: Ha, there on the river bank is a group of old men sitting at their ease. To strike up a conversation, I’ll ask one of them for a light. Truly, compared to my distinguished forebear I am the tail of the dog; and these refugees from the new regime draw in their necks like turtles. [He greets the others]: Can any of you gentlemen provide me with a light?
Liu: Please join us. [Hsu sits down.]
Master of Ceremonies: You wear the dress of an officer of the magistrate’s court.
Hsu: That’s who I am.
Su: If it’s a light for your pipe that you want, I have some fine tobacco here. Please take a fill. [He fills and lights Hsu’s pipe.]
Hsu [smoking]: Very fine tobacco. [He pretends to be dizzy and slumps to the ground. Su helps him sit up.] No, don’t tug at me, just let me have a little rest and I’ll be all right. [He feigns sleep.]
Liu [to Master of Ceremonies]: I recall that three years ago you were intending to bury the robes of Marshal Shih K’o-fa below Plum Blossom Ridge. What ever happened to that plan?
Master of Ceremonies: I joined forces with a goodly number of loyal friends, and we gathered at Plum Blossom Ridge to summon the soul of Marshal Shih and to bury his relics. It was a fine commemoration, except that we did not set up any tablet to him.
Su: A deed well done. But what a pity there was no one to bury General Huang when he loyally sacrificed his life by the roadside.
Master of Ceremonies: That has been taken care of. I gathered together some of the village elders and we buried him and set up a tomb, quite an imposing one.
Liu: These are two major acts of merit you performed.
Su: I don’t think I ever told you gentlemen that when General Tso died in battle and all his comrades were scattered, it was I who placed him in his coffin.
Master of Ceremonies: Well done, well done. And now I hear that his son, Tso Meng-keng, has inherited the title and has taken the coffin back to the ancestral burial-ground.
Liu [wiping his eyes]: General Tso was a personal friend. I had Lan Ying paint a posthumous likeness of him, and asked Ch’ien Mu-chai to inscribe it for me. Now I am able to commemorate my friendship with General Tso by sacrificing to his portrait at the appropriate seasons.
Hsu [opens his eyes and says to himself]: From what they say, these are all loyalist recluses. [He rises to his feet]: Are all you gentlemen recluses here?
Su, Liu, and Master of Ceremonies [rising and bowing]: You flatter us, sir. Why do you ask this?
Hsu: Surely you must have heard. The Board of Rites submitted a memorial requesting that loyalist recluses be sought out wherever they may be. The Pacification Commissioner posted notices everywhere, and it is weeks since we received the directive from the Provincial Governor, but not one man has come forward in response. The prefectural and county authorities are very concerned, and are sending us runners out to search. If you three gentlemen truly are such persons, please come along with me at once.
Master of Ceremonies: You are mistaken, friend. These recluses you speak of are famous scholar-officials who refuse to leave their retreat in the mountains. I was merely a Master of Ceremonies, with no real claim to learning, and I could not think of accompanying you.
Su and Liu: We are just a couple of entertainers, a story-teller and a ballad-monger who now make a living as fisherman and woodcutter. We are even less qualified to go with you.
Hsu: You don’t understand. The famous scholar-officials, the great men of affairs, all these left their retreats three years ago. It’s exactly your kind that we are looking for now.
Master of Ceremonies: Bah! For the court to seek out hermits and invite them to come forth is a serious undertaking. Local officials should issue invitations with due ceremony. There should be none of this tracking down. You runners are up to no good, I’m certain of that.
Hsu: It’s nothing to do with me, I’m simply carrying out the warrant issued by the magistrate. Here it is — look! [He makes ready to arrest them]
Su: What a thing to happen!
Liu: Hadn’t we better be off?
Master of Ceremonies: You’re right. This is our last chance. We didn’t hide ourselves thoroughly enough.
[They hurry off in different directions, too fast for Hsu to catch up.]
Hsu: See them scramble up cliffs and over gullies! All gone beyond trace! [Sings]:
Through the marshes, through the hills,
Everywhere we hunt them
On order of the Court.
The green warrant bears their names,
A crimson circle by each,
But in their white robes off they scurry.
[He stops to listen, and says]: Somebody far away is reciting a poem, by a brook or under the trees. I’ll go wherever it may lead and see if I can’t find them. [He hastens off.]
Voices [off stage singing]:
Fisherman and woodcutter
Chatting of the past,
Each to each recalling
Dreams that did not last:
Scorn for the swallow letter,
Praise for the painted fan,
Sighs for old companions
Ere grief befell Chiangnan.[10]
Parting words of sorrow
To sky’s rim will resound,
As in the turning of the years
The Feast of the Dead comes round.
Illustration: Su K’un-sheng: “It’s hard when there’s nothing to go with the wine.”
[1] Shun-chih, reign-title of the first Manchu Emperor, 1644–1662. The fifth year is 1648.
[2] Heaven was cracked when the legendary rebel Kung-kung, raging in defeat, crashed against one of the pillars which support the sky. See Scene 8, n. 3 for Nü Kua’s repairing of the sky.
[3] See Scene 8, n. 1.
[4] H
an History: the great history of the former Han dynasty, 206 B.C. — A.D. 25, by the Pan family in the later Han period (A.D. 25–221). The story of “reading the Han History as you drink” refers to the Sung poet Su Shun-ch’in, 1008–1048, who became so engrossed in the book, reading as he drank, that he emptied cup after cup.
[5] See Scene 18, n. 1.
[6] This ballad by Liu Ching-t’ing is in strictly classical language, replete with allusions. Several of his comments on his contemporaries are couched in terms of historical figures. Here, for example, the minister intended is Ma Shih-ying, but the allusion in the original line is to Chao Kao, chief eunuch of the First Emperor of the Ch’in dynasty. Chao Kao brought a deer into court and forced the officers to prove their loyalty to himself by swearing that he was correct in proclaiming the animal to be a horse (much as Hamlet tested Polonius). In complete contrast with this heavily allusive language is the plain “Northern” style of Su K’un-sheng’s song-set which follows.
[7] The Ming emperors who met these unhappy fates reigned at the following times: Chien-wen, 1399–1403; Cheng-t’ung, 1436–1450; Cheng-te, 1506–1522; Ch’ung-chen, 1628–1644. Prince Fu, of course, is the Hung-kuang of our play (1644–1645).
[8] The scholar-poet Wu Wei-yeh, 1609–1672, was one of the most gifted of the men who opposed Ma Shih-ying and his faction.
[9] Chu Yuan-chang, whose reign-title was Hung-wu (1368–1399).
[10] Chiangnan, “south of the (Yangtze) River,” old term for the lush region of which Nanking is the center.
The Peach Blossom Fan Page 33