Chapter XII
Yang’s Supreme Regret
AT this time the Emperor came in to make his salutations before the Empress Dowager, and the Empress bade the Princess and Cheung See make their escape into a neighbouring room. She spoke to the Emperor, saying: “In reference to the Princess’s marriage, you know I made the Cheung family return the gifts that had been sent, and this has caused damage to the Imperial prestige. To make Cheung’s daughter a wife along with the Princess would be refused by the Cheungs themselves; to make her a mistress would seem cruel and hard. To-day I have called her, and she is indeed lovely and gifted with great ability, a fitting sister for the Princess. Because of this I have adopted her and have decided to wed them both to Yang So-yoo. What do you think of it?”
The Emperor was greatly pleased and congratulated her, saying: “This is a right and noble decision, and wide as the sky in its justice. In such generous treatment and bountiful favour as this no one has ever equalled my mother.”
Then the Empress called Cheung See so that she might meet the Emperor, as she was now his sister. He made her come up and sit upon the dais, while he said to the Dowager: “Since Cheung See has now become a sister of the Emperor, why should she still wear the dress of the common people?”
The Empress replied: “As there is no command of the Emperor to that effect she declined to put on ceremonial robes.”
Then the Emperor said to the chief of the palace ladies-in-waiting: “Bring a roll of figured silken paper.” This Chin See, the phoenix, brought. The Emperor raised the pen and made as if to write. Then he said to the Empress Dowager: “Since you have already made Cheung See a princess, you must, of course, give her the family name of our house.”
The Dowager replied: “I thought at first to do so, but learning that Justice Cheung and his wife are old people, and that they have no other children, I felt desirous on their behalf that she should carry on their family name, and so I decided to leave her surname as it is.”
Then the Emperor wrote the following in large characters with his own hand. “I approve of the divine wish of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, and record Cheung See to be her adopted daughter. Her name is Princess Yong-yang, or Blossom.” When he had written this he stamped it with a pair of palace seals and gave it to Cheung See, and he ordered the palace maids to dress her in royal robes.
Cheung See descended from the dais and expressed her thanks.
The Emperor then decided the order of precedence between Princess Orchid and Princess Blossom. Blossom was a year the senior of Nan-yang, but she would not have thought of taking precedence of her.
The Empress said: “Princess Blossom is now my daughter, and for the elder to be first and the younger second is the proper order. There is no readjusting of the place between brothers and sisters.”
Blossom bowed low, and touching her brow to the ground, said: “The order appointed pertains only to the future, why should we not ignore it to-day?”
The Dowager said: “In the time of the Spring and Autumn Classic, the wife of Cho-chi, although the daughter of Prince Chin-moon, gave up her place to the first wife who was chosen. Much more should my daughter, as you are her elder sister, give up without a question.”
Still Blossom persisted long in declining the place.
Then the Dowager settled it: “We have decided, and it is settled according to seniority.” And from that time forth all in the palace called her Princess Blossom. The Empress showed the verses that the two had written to the Emperor, and he praised them, saying: “They are both very pretty, but Blossom’s verse has followed the order of the Book of Poetry and places all the credit with Orchid. She has observed the highest refinements of good form.”
“True,” replied the Dowager.
The Emperor again said: “Since you love Blossom so greatly, for truly nothing was ever before seen equal to it, I too have a favour to ask of you.” He then told of the palace-maid Phoenix, and of what had taken place in regard to her affair. Said he: “Her case is indeed a very pitiful one. Though her father died from his own fault, her forefathers were all faithful ministers of state. If we take all the circumstances into account and make her a secondary wife to Yang, would it not be a kindness on your part? I pray you so to do.”
The Dowager then looked toward the two princesses, and Orchid said: “The palace-maid Phoenix told me her story some time ago. She and I are now fast friends and never wish to part. Even though you should not consent to order it, my wish would already be recorded thus.”
Then the Empress Dowager called Phoenix and said to her: “The Princess desires that you should keep each other company through life and unto death. I therefore appoint you a secondary wife to General Yang, so that your wishes may come to pass. In future let all your heart go into repaying the Princess for her kindness to you.”
Chin See, overcome with gratitude, shed tears and spoke her thanks.
The Empress went on: “The marriage of the two Princesses is now happily decided upon, and a jay bird of good omen comes to confirm it. I have already had the Princesses write for me, and now that you, too, have found a place of refuge and have the same happy prospect in view, you must write for me as well.”
At once Chin See wrote and handed her verse to the Empress. It read:
“The happy jay that shouts his mirth
Athwart the Palace halls,
Has seen the spring on gilded wing,
Step forth within his walls.
So, too, the humble phoenix bird
Will long no more to roam,
But with the four, she’ll meet once more,
And join the happy home.”
The Empress along with the Emperor read the verses and in delight said: “Even Sa Do-on who wrote concerning the willow catkins could not surpass this. The verse also follows the Book of Poetry and draws a clear distinction between the first and second wife, most sweet and becoming.”
Princess Orchid said: “The subject and material from which this verse is drawn are limited, and we two sisters had already written all that was to be said about it. Poor Chin See had nothing left on which to place her hand, and yet how pretty it is.”
The Dowager replied: “Since ancient times the most noted writers among women were Pan Heui, Chai Nyo, Princess Tak-moon and Sa Do-on, these four only. Now three girls of unsurpassed ability meet in one and the same dwelling-place. It is surely a marvellous sign.”
Orchid replied: “Princess Blossom’s waiting-maid, Cloudlet, is also greatly gifted with the pen.”
At this point the day began to draw late and the Emperor withdrew to the outer palace. The two Princesses retired and slept in their rooms, and when at the earliest dawn the cocks crew, Blossom went in and made her salutation to the mother, and asked permission to withdraw, saying: “When your child came into the Palace, my parents must certainly have been anxious and full of wonder. May I please withdraw for a little, see them, and make my boast to all my kin of the grace of your High Majesty and the lovingkindness and beauty of my sister Orchid? Kindly grant me this favour.”
The Empress said: “My child, how can you think of leaving me so easily? I have something to consult about with your mother, and so shall make request that she come here in audience instead.”
The Cheungs, when they heard what the servant had come to tell, were somewhat relieved from their fears, and a feeling of thankfulness took possession of them. Suddenly the command came for the lady Cheung to report in the palace.
The Empress met her, took her by the hand, and said: “My taking possession of your daughter is not only because I love her beauty, but for the sake of Princess Orchid’s marriage. Once having seen her lovely face I can never let her go again, so I have made her my adopted daughter and the elder sister of Orchid. My thought is that in a former existence she may have been my daughter, and that she has now come to be yours. Since Blossom is a Princess, one ought really to give her the name of the Imperial household, but I have thought of your having no son, and so have not changed her name. You will know by this how deeply I love you.”
The lady Cheung could not express the thanks that filled her soul. She bowed low and said: “I, your humble subject, had a daughter born to me late in life whom I loved as one loves only gems and pearls. Her marriage proposals failed of fulfilment and we sent back the bridegroom’s presents. My soul lost all its sense of life, and my bones seemed broken within me. My one wish was to die quickly and no longer see her sad and desolate plight. Unexpectedly the dear Princess came to our home and bent her lovely form to our low conditions, making friends with my humble daughter. Then she took her with her to the Palace and made her the recipient of un-dreamed of honours. This is indeed making green leaves to sprout forth on the dry tree, and waters to flow afresh along the parched bed of the stream. All my heart and soul and strength would go forth to requite, if possible, one of the thousand favours and kindnesses of your Majesty, but my husband is an old man and has many ailments of body. While his heart would desire it, still he is too old to enter upon the duties of office, and so make some small return. I, too, am feeble and am already a neighbour of the spirit world, so that I could not serve as palace-woman even to do menial labour. What can we possibly do to show our gratitude for the kindness heaped upon us by your Imperial Majesty? The only way I know is to let the grateful tears fall as rain.” She arose and bowed again, and then prostrated herself and wept till her sleeves were soiled with tear-drops.
The Empress, moved with pity, sighed and said: “Since Blossom is now my daughter your ladyship must never take her away.”
The lady Cheung replied: “How could I think of taking her away from you? But the fact that we cannot meet together and speak the praises of all your Majesty’s worth is my only disappointment.”
Here the Dowager laughed and said: “Before the marriage ceremony she may not go out, but after that, of course, she may go. Do not be anxious about that. After the wedding Princess Orchid shall be put into your care, too, and you must look upon her just as I do upon Blossom.” She called Orchid that she and lady Cheung should meet again. The lady Cheung several times spoke of her regrets at the way in which she had received the Princess when she came to call at her home.
The Empress said: “I have heard that you have among your waiting-maids a little one called Cloudlet; I should like very much to see her.”
The lady then summoned Cloudlet, who came in and made her bow before her Majesty.
The Empress said to herself: “Beautiful she is!” She made her come up close beside her, and then said to her: “I have heard Orchid say that you are very skilful with the pen. Will you not write something for me?”
Cloudlet said: “How could so ignorant a person as I dare to write before your High Majesty? But I shall try to do my best as you command me.”
The Empress opened up the four verses that had already been written and said: “Can you equal these?”
Cloudlet then brought her ink and pens and with one swift dash wrote her verse and handed it to the Empress Dowager. It read:
“This magpie heart of mine
Awakes to joys untold,
Shall join the circle superfine,
And both its wings unfold.
Ye pretty flowers of Chin,
Behold the wondrous sight,
A group of fairies gathering in
From all their scattered flight.”
The Empress read it, showed it to the two Princesses, and said: “I heard before that the lady Ka had great skill, but who would have dreamed of this?”
Princess Orchid remarked: “In this verse she likens herself to the magpie and us to the ‘circle superfine.’ She has caught the spirit of the old masters and reminds one of the songs of the Book of Poetry. Her thought is pretty but she has stolen it from the ancients. They say ‘The birds of heaven find rest with man, and man is naturally sorry for the birds,’ and this suggests Cloudlet.”
The Princess again said: “The chief of the waiting-maids is Chin See from Wha-eum, the one who decided to live and die with Cloudlet.”
Cloudlet replied: “Is this not Chin See who wrote the willow-song?”
Chin See gave a start and asked: “From whom did you ever hear of my willow-song?”
Cloudlet made answer: “General Yang has ever had you in his thoughts, and once when he repeated this verse I overheard him.”
Chin See, with a sorrowful countenance, said: “And so General Yang has not forgotten me?”
Cloudlet replied: “How can you suggest such a thing? The General carried hidden away with him these verses of yours, and when he read them the tears used to flow. When he sang them he sighed. How is it that you alone fail to know his loving heart?”
Chin See said: “If the General has the same love that he used to have, then this humble person, though she never see him again, can die happy.” Then she told of his verse that had been written on her silken fan, and Cloudlet said: “The hairpins and rings that I wear were won for me on that day.”
Then the maids-in-waiting gathered and reported, saying: “The lady Cheung is about to take her departure.”
The two Princesses went in and waited upon her, while the Empress Dowager said to the lady Cheung: “In a little time Yang the Wanderer will make his return and the former marriage gifts will naturally be sent once again; but to receive the gifts again that were once sent back would seem poor and mean. On the other hand, Princess Blossom having become my daughter, I want to have the two of them send theirs at one and the same time. Will your ladyship give consent?”
Then the lady Cheung bowed low to the earth and said: “How can your humble subject dare to do otherwise? Let it be as your Imperial Majesty suggests.”
The Dowager laughed: “General Yang has for the sake of Blossom more than three times refused to do my bidding, and now I want to play a practical joke on him. They say in common speech: ‘The unpropitious word turns out to be propitious.’ You shall wait till he returns and then say that Cheung See has suddenly fallen ill and died. I saw in the General’s letter that he had met her in a dream. On the first day of the ceremony I shall be amused to see if he will know her or not.”
The lady Cheung received the command, took her departure, and returned. The daughter saw her beyond the first palace entrance, and then bowed and spoke her farewell. She called Cloudlet and told her secretly of the plan to deceive the General. Cloudlet replied: “I have been a fairy and I have been an evil spirit to deceive him, and that is surely enough. Would it not be mean of me to attempt anything more?”
Cheung See replied: “This is not our plan, or our affair, but the Empress Dowager’s.”
Cloudlet smothered her laughter and went away smiling.
At this time General Yang had made his soldiers drink the waters of the White Dragon Lake till their health returned and they longed for battle. The General then summoned his aides, gave them their orders and made them march forth at the sound of the drum. Just at this moment Chan-bo received the gem sent by the dancer Swallow, and knowing that General Yang’s troops had passed Pan-sa valley, he approached the General’s headquarters in a state of great fear and talked of surrender. The various leaders of the Tibetan forces took Chan-bo, bound him, entered General Yang’s camp and there surrendered.
Once again Yang drew his troops up in order and marched into the capital, stopped the plundering of the city, and quieted the people. He then went up into the Kolyoon Mountains and put up a memorial tablet with a record of the power and goodness of the kingdom of the Tangs. Then he faced about with his army, sang his songs of victory, and returned home. When he reached Chin-joo it was already autumn; the mountains were bare and the earth dry and sear. All the flowers had been baptised in death and sorrow. The wild geese piped out their sad notes, reminding him that he was far away from home.
The General spent the night in a guest house. His mind seemed unrested and the hours long. Sleep failed him. He thought in his heart: “It is already three years since I left home and my mother’s health cannot be as it has always been. To whom can she turn for protection and care in sickness? To what time shall I put off my morning and evening salutations to her? To-day the land is quiet, war has ceased, but my desire to wait on and serve my mother is not yet satisfied. I have failed in the serious part of life’s duty and man’s first requirement. For several years I have been busy with State affairs, have not married, and have found it difficult to hold my engagement with Cheung See. The various matters in which I have been disappointed proved the truth of the old saying: ‘Eight or nine times out of ten comes disappointment.’ Now I have quieted five thousand li of territory, and have received the surrender of a million rebels, so that my name will be heralded abroad as great. His Majesty will doubtless appoint me to some high office as a reward for my many labours. If I decline office and ask instead that my request to marry Cheung See be granted, I wonder if consent will be forthcoming?”
Sad were his thoughts, and thus did his mind seek relief, so he laid his head upon his pillow and fell asleep. In a dream his body took wing and flew up to heaven. From the Palace of the Seven Precious Things,[41] that shone with glittering splendour and was encircled with clouds of glory, two waiting-maids came out to meet him and said: “Cheung See is calling for your Excellency.”
So the General followed them and entered. In the wide court the flowers were in bloom. Three fairies were seen seated in an upper pavilion of white marble. Their dresses were like those of the waiting-maids of the palace and their eyebrows lined off with soft touches of the fairy’s wand. Their eyes were luminous and a halo of light encircled their forms. They leaned upon the railing and dallied playfully with each other, having in their hands buds of fragrant flowers. When the General entered they rose from their seats, made way for him, and when he was seated the leading fairy asked:
“Since your Excellency said good-bye have you been well all the time?”
The General rubbed his eyes and looked peeringly, and lo! it was the lady who had talked to him about the tunes on the harp, Cheung See. In fear and gladness he tried to speak, but the words refused to come.
The fairy then said: “Since I have departed from the world of men and have come to dwell in heaven with its delights, I find that all that has happened belongs to my former existence. Though your Excellency meet and see my parents you will find no news from me awaiting you.” And she pointed to the two fairies at her side, saying: “This is the Weaving Damsel and the other is the Incense Angel. They are united to you by the affinity of the world life. Please do not think of me any more but think only of them. If you are joined first to them by the happy contract, I, too, will find a place of consolation.”
The General looked at the two fairies, and the one who sat on the lower seat was known to him, but he could not recall her name. Suddenly the drum sounded and he awoke, and it was only a dream.
He thought over what he had seen, and he realised that it was not a happy omen, so he sighed and said: “Cheung See is surely dead; if not why should I have had so unpropitious a dream?” Again he thought: “On the other hand, if we think specially of a thing we dream of it; perhaps, because of my thinking so much of her, I have so dreamed. Moonlight’s recommendation, and the priestess Too-ryon’s serving as go-between, were, I am sure, according to the leading of the Mother of the Moon. If our predestined affinity be not attained to, and if the living and the dead are thus to contradict each other, then surely God must be uncertain and ignorant of the laws that rule. It is said that the unlucky omen becomes the lucky. I wonder if that will find fulfilment in this dream of mine?”
After a prolonged march the leading forces reached the capital and the Emperor came out as far as the River Wee to meet and welcome him. The General, wearing a green helmet with phoenix plume ornaments, and gilded armour, rode a Persian war-horse, and there were banners and battle-axes in front, behind, and extending out on each side of him. King Chan-bo was drawn along in a cage in advance of him, while thirty-six princes of Tibet, each bearing his tribute, followed in the rear. The majesty of the sight was something never before seen. Onlookers lined each side of the road for a hundred li, and within the walls of the capital there was a deserted city.
The General dismounted from his horse and bowed low, while the Emperor took him by the hand, raised him up, and spoke kindly to him concerning all his hard labours; praised him for his great success, and for the merit he had won. He then had an order issued similar to that which related to Kwak Poon-yang, of ancient times, appointing to him a certain district of territory and making him a king with great and rich rewards.
These the General emphatically and sincerely declined. Finally the Emperor yielded and issued a special order making Yang the Wanderer Generalissimo, and creating him Prince of Wee. The remaining gifts and presents were so many that it is impossible to record them.
General Yang then followed the Imperial car, entered the palace and gave thanks for all the favours and rewards showered upon him.
The Emperor, in response, gave command that a great feast celebrating peace should be prepared, and that the gifts and prizes should be displayed before those assembled. He ordered, also, that Yang’s portrait should be given a place in the Temple of Famous Men.
The General then withdrew from the palace and betook himself to the home of Justice Cheung. There he found all the family and relatives gathered in the outer rooms. They met him, bowed before him, and offered him their congratulations. When he had inquired for the Justice and her ladyship, Thirteen made reply: “Uncle and aunt were holding out well until after my cousin’s death. They were so heart-broken and distressed over that that they have fallen ill, and their strength is not what it used to be. That is the reason they do not come out to the outer court to greet you. My wish is that you let me go in with you to the inner quarters.”
The General, when he heard this, behaved as if he were mad or drunk and could make no intelligent inquiry. After the lapse of some time he returned to consciousness and inquired: “Who is dead?”
Thirteen made answer: “My uncle never had a son; he had one daughter only, and God’s way with him has been very hard indeed. Thus has he arrived at this condition. Is it not pitiful? When you go in please do not say anything about it.”
Then Yang gave a great shudder, and overcome by untold distress could scarcely get his breath or utter a syllable. Tears streamed from his eyes.
Thirteen comforted him, saying: “Even though your marriage contract was made firm as rocks and tempered steel, still the luck of this house is so unpropitious and bad that it has turned out otherwise. I hope that you will do the right thing and exercise yourself to comfort the old people.”
Yang wiped away his tears, thanked him, and they went in together to the Justice and the lady Cheung. They were seemingly happy over the congratulations poured out upon Yang, and made no reference to the fact that their daughter was dead.
Yang said to them: “Your humble son-in-law, by good fortune and with the prestige of the State behind him, has fallen heir to great gifts from his Imperial Majesty. I had just declined these with the one earnest request that his Majesty should change his mind and let me fulfil the marriage contract that I had entered upon, but already the dew of the morning has dried up and the colours of the springtime have faded. How can life and death overtake one thus without breaking the heart?”
The Justice said in reply: “Life and death are wrapped in destiny; gladness and sorrow, too, aid destiny and are the appointments of God. What is the use of talking about or discussing them? To-day the whole household has met for a great celebration; let us not talk of anything that grieves or is sad.”
Thirteen frequently made signs and winks in the direction of Yang so that he ceased to say anything more about the matter, but went out into the park.
Cloudlet came down the steps to meet him, and when he saw her it was like seeing the daughter. Grief overcame him once more and his tears began to fall.
Cloudlet knelt down and comforted him, saying: “Why should your Highness be sad to-day? I humbly beg of you to set your mind free, dry your tears and hear what I have to say. Our maiden was originally a fairy from heaven, who was sent to earth for a little period of exile, and the day she returned home to heaven she said to your humble servant: ‘You, too, must cut yourself off from General Yang and follow me. Since I have already departed from the world of men, if you were to go back to General Yang it would mean leaving me. One of these days he will return home, and should he think lovingly of me or sorrow at my loss you must give him this message: “The sending back of the wedding gifts indicated my departure. How much more the resentment that I felt over the hearing of the harp. Do not be too sad or anxious. If you sorrow overmuch for me it will mean opposition on your part to the Emperors command, and a desire to do your own will. It will mean damage to the one who is dead Besides, if you should pour out a libation at my grave or go there to wail it would proclaim me as a girl whose life had not been correct and would distress my soul in hades. This too I will add: his Majesty will await your return and will again make proposals of your marriage with the Princess. I have heard it said that Kwan-jo’s dignity and virtue were a fitting mate for the superior man. My hope is that you will willingly accede to the command of the Emperor, and not fall into rebellion.” Tell him this, will you.’ This is what she said,” added Cloudlet.
The General on hearing it was greatly overcome and said: “Even though the dear girl’s wishes were such, how can I be without sorrow? To know that she thought thus of me at the last moment makes me feel that though I die ten times I can never repay so great a devotion as hers.”
Then he told the dream he had had in the camp and Cloudlet wept and said: “Doubtless she dwells with God before the altar of Incense, and, when your Excellency has lived out your years on earth, you will meet again and fulfil your happy contract. Do not sorrow, please, or injure your health.”
Yang asked: “Did she say anything beyond this?” Cloudlet made answer: “She did say something to herself, but I dare not repeat it with my lips.”
“What you heard,” said the General, “you must tell me now and make no concealment.”
Then Cloudlet said: “The young lady said finally to me, ‘You, Cloudlet, and I, are one and the same person. If his Excellency does not forget me and desires you as he desires me, and does not throw you away even though I descend into the earth, it will be as though I were blessed and loved of him.’”
Yang was greatly moved by this, and said: “How could I ever think of putting you away, my Cloudlet? How much the more now with the dear one’s wishes so expressed. Though I should marry with the Weaving Damsel or be wedded to the Water Fairy, I would never, never put you away.”