The Dream of the Red Chamber (Selection)

by Cao Xueqin

  "Are you, old lady," replied Hsiao Hung smiling, "taking things in such real earnest that you readily believe them and want to go and ask him in here?"

  "What can I do?" rejoined nurse Li.

  "Why, that fellow," added Hsiao Hung laughingly, "will, if he has any idea of decency, do the right thing and not come."

  "Besides, he's not a fool!" pleaded nurse Li; "so why shouldn't he come in?"

  "Well, if he is to come," answered Hsiao Hung, "it will devolve upon you, worthy dame, to lead him along with you; for were you by and bye to let him penetrate inside all alone and knock recklessly about, why, it won't do at all."

  "Have I got all that leisure," retorted nurse Li, "to trudge along with him? I'll simply tell him to come; and later on I can despatch a young servant-girl or some old woman to bring him in, and have done."

  Saying this, she continued her way, leaning on her staff.

  After listening to her rejoinder, Hsiao Hung stood still; and plunging in abstraction, she did not go and fetch the pencil. But presently, she caught sight of a servant-girl running that way. Espying Hsiao Hung lingering in that spot, "Sister Hung," she cried, "what are you doing in here?"

  Hsiao Hung raised her head, and recognised a young waiting-maid called Chui Erh. "Where are you off too?" Hsiao Hung asked.

  "I've been told to bring in master Secundus, Mr. Yün," Chui Erh replied. After which answer, she there and then departed with all speed.

  Hsiao Hung reached, meanwhile, the Feng Yao bridge. As soon as she approached the gateway, she perceived Chui Erh coming along with Chia Yün from the opposite direction. While advancing Chia Yün ogled Hsiao Hung; and Hsiao Hung too, though pretending to be addressing herself to Chui Erh, cast a glance at Chia Yün; and their four eyes, as luck would have it, met. Hsiao Hung involuntarily blushed all over; and turning herself round, she walked off towards the Heng Wu court. But we will leave her there without further remarks.

  During this time, Chia Yün followed Chui Erh, by a circuitous way, into the I Hung court. Chui Erh entered first and made the necessary announcement. Then subsequently she ushered in Chia Yün. When Chia Yün scrutinised the surroundings, he perceived, here and there in the court, several blocks of rockery, among which were planted banana-trees. On the opposite side were two storks preening their feathers under the fir trees. Under the covered passage were suspended, in a row, cages of every description, containing all sorts of fairylike, rare birds. In the upper part were five diminutive anterooms, uniformly carved with, unique designs; and above the framework of the door was hung a tablet with the inscription in four huge characters—"I Hung K'uai Lü, the happy red and joyful green."

  "I thought it strange," Chia Yün argued mentally, "that it should be called the I Hung court; but are these, in fact, the four characters inscribed on the tablet!"

  But while he was communing within himself, he heard some one laugh and then exclaim from the inner side of the gauze window: "Come in at once! How is it that I've forgotten you these two or three months?"

  As soon as Chia Yün recognised Pao-yü's voice, he entered the room with hurried step. On raising his head, his eye was attracted by the brilliant splendour emitted by gold and jade and by the dazzling lustre of the elegant arrangements. He failed, however, to detect where Pao-yü was ensconced. The moment he turned his head round, he espied, on the left side, a large cheval-glass; behind which appeared to view, standing side by side, two servant-girls of fifteen or sixteen years of age. "Master Secundus," they ventured, "please take a seat in the inner room."

  Chia Yün could not even muster courage to look at them straight in the face; but promptly assenting, he walked into a green gauze mosquito-house, where he saw a small lacquered bed, hung with curtains of a deep red colour, with clusters of flowers embroidered in gold. Pao-yü, wearing a house-dress and slipshod shoes, was reclining on the bed, a book in hand. The moment he perceived Chia Yün walk in, he discarded his book, and forthwith smiled and raised himself up. Chia Yün hurriedly pressed forward and paid his salutation. Pao-yü then offered him a seat; but he simply chose a chair in the lower part of the apartment.

  "Ever since the moon in which I came across you," Pao-yü observed smilingly, "and told you to come into the library, I've had, who would have thought it, endless things to continuously attend to, so that I forgot all about you."

  "It's I, indeed, who lacked good fortune!" rejoined Chia Yün, with a laugh; "particularly so, as it again happened that you, uncle, fell ill. But are you quite right once more?"

  "All right!" answered Pao-yü. "I heard that you've been put to much trouble and inconvenience on a good number of days!"

  "Had I even had any trouble to bear," added Chia Yün, "it would have been my duty to bear it. But your complete recovery, uncle, is really a blessing to our whole family."

  As he spoke, he discerned a couple of servant-maids come to help him to a cup of tea. But while conversing with Pao-yü, Chia Yün was intent upon scrutinising the girl with slim figure, and oval face, and clad in a silvery-red jacket, a blue satin waistcoat and a white silk petticoat with narrow pleats.

  At the time of Pao-yü's illness, Chia Yün had spent a couple of days in the inner apartments, so that he remembered half of the inmates of note, and the moment he set eyes upon this servant-girl he knew that it was Hsi Jen; and that she was in Pao-yü's rooms on a different standing to the rest. Now therefore that she brought the tea in herself and that Pao-yü was, besides, sitting by, he rose to his feet with alacrity and put on a smile. "Sister," he said, "how is it that you are pouring tea for me? I came here to pay uncle a visit; what's more I'm no stranger, so let me pour it with my own hands!"

  "Just you sit down and finish!" Pao-yü interposed; "will you also behave in this fashion with servant-girls?"

  "In spite of what you say;" remarked Chia Yün smiling, "they are young ladies attached to your rooms, uncle, and how could I presume to be disorderly in my conduct?"

  So saying, he took a seat and drank his tea. Pao-yü then talked to him about trivial and irrelevant matters; and afterwards went on to tell him in whose household the actresses were best, and whose gardens were pretty. He further mentioned to him in whose quarters the servant-girls were handsome, whose banquets were sumptuous, as well as in whose home were to be found strange things, and what family possessed remarkable objects. Chia Yün was constrained to humour him in his conversation; but after a chat, which lasted for some time, he noticed that Pao-yü was somewhat listless, and he promptly stood up and took his leave. And Pao-yü too did not use much pressure to detain him. "To-morrow, if you have nothing to do, do come over!" he merely observed; after which, he again bade the young waiting-maid, Chui Erh, see him out.

  Having left the I Hung court, Chia Yün cast a glance all round; and, realising that there was no one about, he slackened his pace at once, and while proceeding leisurely, he conversed, in a friendly way, with Chui Erh on one thing and another. First and foremost he inquired of her what was her age; and her name. "Of what standing are your father and mother?" he said, "How many years have you been in uncle Pao's apartments? How much money do you get a month? In all how many girls are there in uncle Pao's rooms?"

  As Chui Erh heard the questions set to her, she readily made suitable reply to each.

  "The one, who was a while back talking to you," continued Chia Yün, "is called Hsiao Hung, isn't she?"

  "Yes, her name is Hsiao Hung!" replied Chui Erh smiling; "but why do you ask about her?"

  "She inquired of you just now about some handkerchief or other," answered Chia Yün; "well, I've picked one up."

  Chui Erh greeted this response with a smile. "Many are the times," she said; "that she has asked me whether I had seen her handkerchief; but have I got all that leisure to worry my mind about such things? She spoke to me about it again to-day; and she suggested that I should find it for her, and that she would also recompense me. This she told me when we were just now at the entrance of the Heng Wu court, and you too, Mr. Se
cundus, overheard her, so that I'm not lying. But, dear Mr. Secundus, since you've picked it up, give it to me. Do! And I'll see what she will give me as a reward."

  The truth is that Chia Yün had, the previous moon when he had come into the garden to attend to the planting of trees, picked up a handkerchief, which he conjectured must have been dropped by some inmate of those grounds; but as he was not aware whose it was, he did not consequently presume to act with indiscretion. But on this occasion, he overheard Hsiao Hung make inquiries of Chui Erh on the subject; and concluding that it must belong to her, he felt immeasurably delighted. Seeing, besides, how importunate Chui Erh was, he at once devised a plan within himself, and vehemently producing from his sleeve a handkerchief of his own, he observed, as he turned towards Chui Erh with a smile: "As for giving it to you, I'll do so; but in the event of your obtaining any present from her, you mustn't impose upon me."

  Chui Erh assented to his proposal most profusely; and, taking the handkerchief, she saw Chia Yün out and then came back in search of Hsiao Hung. But we will leave her there for the present.

  We will now return to Pao-yü. After dismissing Chia Yün, he lay in such complete listlessness on the bed that he betrayed every sign of being half asleep. Hsi Jen walked up to him, and seated herself on the edge of the bed, and pushing him, "What are you about to go to sleep again," she said. "Would it not do your languid spirits good if you went out for a bit of a stroll?"

  Upon hearing her voice, Pao-yü grasped her hand in his. "I would like to go out," he smiled, "but I can't reconcile myself to the separation from you!"

  "Get up at once!" laughed Hsi Jen. And as she uttered these words, she pulled Pao-yü up.

  "Where can I go?" exclaimed Pao-yü. "I'm quite surfeited with everything."

  "Once out you'll be all right," Hsi Jen answered, "but if you simply give way to this languor, you'll be more than ever sick of everything at heart."

  Pao-yü could not do otherwise, dull and out of sorts though he was, than accede to her importunities. Strolling leisurely out of the door of the room, he amused himself a little with the birds suspended under the verandah; then he wended his steps outside the court, and followed the course of the Hsin Fang stream; but after admiring the golden fish for a time, he espied, on the opposite hillock, two young deer come rushing down as swift as an arrow. What they were up to Pao-yü could not discern; but while abandoning himself to melancholy, he caught sight of Chia Lan, following behind, with a small bow in his hand, and hurrying down hill in pursuit of them.

  As soon as he realised that Pao-yü stood ahead of him, he speedily halted. "Uncle Secundus," he smiled, "are you at home? I imagined you had gone out of doors!"

  "You are up to mischief again, eh?" Pao-yü rejoined. "They've done nothing to you, and why shoot at them with your arrows?"

  "I had no studies to attend to just now, so, being free with nothing to do," Chia Lan replied laughingly, "I was practising riding and archery."

  "Shut up!" exclaimed Pao-yü. "When are you not engaged in practising?"

  Saying this, he continued his way and straightway reached the entrance of a court. Here the bamboo foliage was thick, and the breeze sighed gently. This was the Hsiao Hsiang lodge. Pao-yü listlessly rambled in. He saw a bamboo portière hanging down to the ground. Stillness prevailed. Not a human voice fell on the ear. He advanced as far as the window. Noticing that a whiff of subtle scent stole softly through the green gauze casement, Pao-yü applied his face closely against the frame to peep in, but suddenly he caught the faint sound of a deep sigh and the words: "Day after day my feelings slumber drowsily!" Upon overhearing this exclamation, Pao-yü unconsciously began to feel a prey to inward longings; but casting a second glance, he saw Tai-yü stretching herself on the bed.

  "Why is it," smiled Pao-yü, from outside the window, "that your feelings day after day slumber drowsily?" So saying, he raised the portière and stepped in.

  The consciousness that she had not been reticent about her feelings made Tai-yü unwittingly flush scarlet. Taking hold of her sleeve, she screened her face; and, turning her body round towards the inside, she pretended to be fast asleep. Pao-yü drew near her. He was about to pull her round when he saw Tai-yü's nurse enter the apartment, followed by two matrons.

  "Is Miss asleep?" they said. "If so, we'll ask her over, when she wakes up."

  As these words were being spoken, Tai-yü eagerly twisted herself round and sat up. "Who's asleep?" she laughed.

  "We thought you were fast asleep, Miss," smiled the two or three matrons as soon as they perceived Tai-yü get up. This greeting over, they called Tzu Chüan. "Your young mistress," they said, "has awoke; come in and wait on her!"

  While calling her, they quitted the room in a body. Tai-yü remained seated on the bed. Raising her arms, she adjusted her hair, and smilingly she observed to Pao-yü, "When people are asleep, what do you walk in for?"

  At the sight of her half-closed starlike eyes and of her fragrant cheeks, suffused with a crimson blush, Pao-yü's feelings were of a sudden awakened; so, bending his body, he took a seat on a chair, and asked with a smile: "What were you saying a short while back?"

  "I wasn't saying anything," Tai-yü replied.

  "What a lie you're trying to ram down my throat!" laughed Pao-yü. "I heard all."

  But in the middle of their colloquy, they saw Tzu Chüan enter. Pao-yü then put on a smiling face. "Tzu Chüan!" he cried, "pour me a cup of your good tea!"

  "Where's the good tea to be had?" Tzu Chüan answered. "If you want good tea, you'd better wait till Hsi Jen comes."

  "Don't heed him!" interposed Tai-yü. "Just go first and draw me some water."

  "He's a visitor," remonstrated Tzu Chüan, "and, of course, I should first pour him a cup of tea, and then go and draw the water."

  With this answer, she started to serve the tea.

  "My dear girl," Pao-yü exclaimed laughingly, "If I could only share the same bridal curtain with your lovable young mistress, would I ever be able (to treat you as a servant) by making you fold the covers and make the beds."

  Lin Tai-yü at once drooped her head. "What are you saying?" she remonstrated.

  "What, did I say anything?" smiled Pao-yü.

  Tai-yü burst into tears. "You've recently," she observed, "got into a new way. Whatever slang you happen to hear outside you come and tell me. And whenever you read any improper book, you poke your fun at me. What! have I become a laughing-stock for gentlemen!"

  As she began to cry, she jumped down from bed, and promptly left the room. Pao-yü was at a loss how to act. So agitated was he that he hastily ran up to her, "My dear cousin," he pleaded, "I do deserve death; but don't go and tell any one! If again I venture to utter such kind of language, may blisters grow on my mouth and may my tongue waste away!"

  But while appealing to her feelings, he saw Hsi Jen approach him. "Go back at once," she cried, "and put on your clothes as master wants to see you."

  At the very mention of his father, Pao-yü felt suddenly as if struck by lightning. Regardless of everything and anything, he rushed, as fast as possible, back to his room, and changing his clothes, he came out into the garden. Here he discovered Pei Ming, standing at the second gateway, waiting for him.

  "Do you perchance know what he wants me for?" Pao-yü inquired.

  "Master, hurry out at once!" Pei Ming replied. "You must, of course, go and see him. When you get there, you are sure to find out what it's all about."

  This said, he urged Pao-yü on, and together they turned past the large pavilion. Pao-yü was, however, still labouring under suspicion, when he heard, from the corner of the wall, a loud outburst of laughter. Upon turning his head round, he caught sight of Hsüeh P'an jump out, clapping his hands. "Hadn't I said that my uncle wanted you?" he laughed. "Would you ever have rushed out with such alacrity?"

  Pei Ming also laughed, and fell on his knees. But Pao-yü remained for a long time under the spell of utter astonishment, before he, at length, realised th
at it was Hsüeh P'au who had inveigled him to come out.

  Hsüeh P'an hastily made a salutation and a curtsey, and confessed his fault. He next gave way to entreaties, saying: "Don't punish the young servant, for it is simply I who begged him go."

  Pao-yü too had then no other alternative but to smile. "I don't mind your playing your larks on me; but why," he inquired, "did you mention my father? Were I to go and tell my aunt, your mother, to see to the rights and the wrongs of the case, how would you like it?"

  "My dear cousin," remarked Hsüeh P'an vehemently, "the primary idea I had in view was to ask you to come out a moment sooner and I forgot to respectfully shun the expression. But by and bye, when you wish to chaff me, just you likewise allude to my father, and we'll thus be square."

  "Ai-ya!" exclaimed Pao-yü. "You do more than ever deserve death!!" Then turning again towards Pei Ming, "You ruffian!" he said, "what are you still kneeling for?"

  Pei Ming began to bump his head on the ground with vehemence.

  "Had it been for anything else," Hsüeh P'an chimed in, "I wouldn't have made bold to disturb you; but it's simply in connection with my birthday which is to-morrow, the third day of the fifth moon. Ch'eng Jih-hsing, who is in that curio shop of ours, unexpectedly brought along, goodness knows where he fished them from, fresh lotus so thick and so long, so mealy and so crisp; melons of this size; and a Siamese porpoise, that long and that big, smoked with cedar, such as is sent as tribute from the kingdom of Siam. Are not these four presents, pray, rare delicacies? The porpoise is not only expensive, but difficult to get, and that kind of lotus and melon must have cost him no end of trouble to grow! I lost no time in presenting some to my mother, and at once sent some to your old grandmother, and my aunt. But a good many of them still remain now; and were I to eat them all alone, it would, I fear, be more than I deserve; so I concluded, after thinking right and left, that there was, besides myself, only you good enough to partake of some. That is why I specially invite you to taste them. But, as luck would have it, a young singing-boy has also come, so what do you say to you and I having a jolly day of it?"