"Get away, off with you!" madame Wang in like manner hastened to urge; "our dowager lady is waiting, I fear, for you to have her repast!"
Pao-yue assented, and, with gentle step, he withdrew out of the room, laughing at Chin Ch'uan-erh, as he put out his tongue; and leading off the two nurses, he went off on his way like a streak of smoke. But no sooner had he reached the door of the corridor than he espied Hsi Jen standing leaning against the side; who perceiving Pao-yue come back safe and sound heaped smile upon smile, and asked: "What did he want you for?"
"There was nothing much," Pao-yue explained, "he simply feared that I would, when I get into the garden, be up to mischief, and he gave me all sorts of advice;" and, as while he explained matters, they came into the presence of lady Chia, he gave her a clear account, from first to last, of what had transpired. But when he saw that Lin Tai-yue was at the moment in the room, Pao-yue speedily inquired of her: "Which place do you think best to live in?"
Tai-yue had just been cogitating on this subject, so that when she unexpectedly heard Pao-yue's inquiry, she forthwith rejoined with a smile: "My own idea is that the Hsio Hsiang Kuan is best; for I'm fond of those clusters of bamboos, which hide from view the tortuous balustrade and make the place more secluded and peaceful than any other!"
Pao-yue at these words clapped his hands and smiled. "That just meets with my own views!" he remarked; "I too would like you to go and live in there; and as I am to stay in the I Hung Yuan, we two will be, in the first place, near each other; and next, both in quiet and secluded spots."
While the two of them were conversing, a servant came, sent over by Chia Cheng, to report to dowager lady Chia that: "The 22nd of the second moon was a propitious day for Pao-yue and the young ladies to shift their quarters into the garden; that during these few days, servants should be sent in to put things in their proper places and to clean; that Hsueh Pao-ch'ai should put up in the Heng Wu court; that Lin Tai-yue was to live in the Hsiao Hsiang lodge; that Chia Ying-ch'un should move into the Cho Chin two-storied building; that T'an Ch'un should put up in the Ch'iu Yen library; that Hsi Ch'un should take up her quarters in the Liao Feng house; that widow Li should live in the Tao Hsiang village, and that Pao-yue was to live in the I Hung court. That at every place two old nurses should be added and four servant-girls; that exclusive of the nurse and personal waiting-maid of each, there should, in addition, be servants, whose special duties should be to put things straight and to sweep the place; and that on the 22nd, they should all, in a body, move into the garden."
When this season drew near, the interior of the grounds, with the flowers waving like embroidered sashes, and the willows fanned by the fragrant breeze, was no more as desolate and silent as it had been in previous days; but without indulging in any further irrelevant details, we shall now go back to Pao-yue.
Ever since he shifted his quarters into the park, his heart was full of joy, and his mind of contentment, fostering none of those extraordinary ideas, whose tendency could be to give birth to longings and hankerings. Day after day, he simply indulged, in the company of his female cousins and the waiting-maids, in either reading his books, or writing characters, or in thrumming the lute, playing chess, drawing pictures and scanning verses, even in drawing patterns of argus pheasants, in embroidering phoenixes, contesting with them in searching for strange plants, and gathering flowers, in humming poetry with gentle tone, singing ballads with soft voice, dissecting characters, and in playing at mora, so that, being free to go everywhere and anywhere, he was of course completely happy. From his pen emanate four ballads on the times of the four seasons, which, although they could not be looked upon as first-rate, afford anyhow a correct idea of his sentiments, and a true account of the scenery.
The ballad on the spring night runs as follows:
The silken curtains, thin as russet silk, at random are spread out.
The croak of frogs from the adjoining lane but faintly strikes the
ear.
The pillow a slight chill pervades, for rain outside the window falls.
The landscape, which now meets the eye, is like that seen in dreams by
man.
In plenteous streams the candles' tears do drop, but for whom do they
weep?
Each particle of grief felt by the flowers is due to anger against me.
It's all because the maids have by indulgence indolent been made.
The cover over me I'll pull, as I am loth to laugh and talk for long.
This is the description of the aspect of nature on a summer night:
The beauteous girl, weary of needlework, quiet is plunged in a long
dream.
The parrot in the golden cage doth shout that it is time the tea to
brew.
The lustrous windows with the musky moon like open palace-mirrors
look;
The room abounds with fumes of sandalwood and all kinds of imperial
scents.
From the cups made of amber is poured out the slippery dew from the
lotus.
The banisters of glass, the cool zephyr enjoy flapped by the willow
trees.
In the stream-spanning kiosk, the curtains everywhere all at one time
do wave.
In the vermilion tower the blinds the maidens roll, for they have made
the night's toilette.
The landscape of an autumnal evening is thus depicted:
In the interior of the Chiang Yuen house are hushed all clamorous din
and noise.
The sheen, which from Selene flows, pervades the windows of carnation
gauze.
The moss-locked, streaked rocks shelter afford to the cranes, plunged
in sleep.
The dew, blown on the t'ung tree by the well, doth wet the roosting
rooks.
Wrapped in a quilt, the maid comes the gold phoenix coverlet to
spread.
The girl, who on the rails did lean, on her return drops the
kingfisher flowers!
This quiet night his eyes in sleep he cannot close, as he doth long
for wine.
The smoke is stifled, and the fire restirred, when tea is ordered to
be brewed.
The picture of a winter night is in this strain:
The sleep of the plum trees, the dream of the bamboos the third watch
have already reached.
Under the embroidered quilt and the kingfisher coverlet one can't
sleep for the cold.
The shadow of fir trees pervades the court, but cranes are all that
meet the eye.
Both far and wide the pear blossom covers the ground, but yet the hawk
cannot be heard.
The wish, verses to write, fostered by the damsel with the green
sleeves, has waxed cold.
The master, with the gold sable pelisse, cannot endure much wine.
But yet he doth rejoice that his attendant knows the way to brew the
tea.
The newly-fallen snow is swept what time for tea the water must be
boiled.
But putting aside Pao-yue, as he leisurely was occupied in scanning some verses, we will now allude to all these ballads. There lived, at that time, a class of people, whose wont was to servilely court the influential and wealthy, and who, upon perceiving that the verses were composed by a young lad of the Jung Kuo mansion, of only twelve or thirteen years of age, had copies made, and taking them outside sang their praise far and wide. There were besides another sort of light-headed young men, whose heart was so set upon licentious and seductive lines, that they even inscribed them on fans and screen-walls, and time and again kept on humming them and extolling them. And to the above reasons must therefore be ascribed the fact that persons came in search of stanzas and in quest of manuscripts, to apply for sketches and to beg for poetical compositions, to the increasing satisfaction of Pao-yue, who day after day, when at home, devoted his time and attention to these extraneous matters. But who would have anticipated that he could ever in his quiet seclusion have become a prey to a spirit of restlessness? Of a sudden, one day he began to feel discontent, finding fault with this and turning up his nose at that; and going in and coming out he was simply full of ennui. And as all the girls in the garden were just in the prime of youth, and at a time of life when, artless and unaffected, they sat and reclined without regard to retirement, and disported themselves and joked without heed, how could they ever have come to read the secrets which at this time occupied a place in the heart of Pao-yue? But so unhappy was Pao-yue within himself that he soon felt loth to stay in the garden, and took to gadding about outside like an evil spirit; but he behaved also the while in an idiotic manner.