silk, and chewing straw and vegetables, beholds the buffalo at the plough fatigued and exhausted, it congratulates itself upon its good fortune; but when it enters the great temple, and the knife and mallet are before its eyes, it wishes it were a-ploughing, but in vain.” He forthwith declined the presents, and transferred himself and his wife to the state of Sung, living privately in the Nan hwa hills, to the south of Taou chow. One day, roaming about under the hills, he beheld some barren sepulchres, very thickly congregated together, and he exclaimed, with a sigh, “Old and young, sages and fools, without any distinction, return hither! when man has descended into the tomb, how can he be again made man?" After sighing awhile, he advanced a few paces, and suddenly saw a new grave, the hillock of which was not yet dry, and a young female, dressed in plain garments, sitting beside it, and leisurely waving over it a plain fan. As she continued at this employment without remission, he asked her, in astonishment, who was buried there, and why she continued to fan the grave? The lady did not alter her position, but continued to fan as before, twittering out a few sentences —if you do not know their purport, know that it was this: The moment they were heard, they would make a thousand mouths split with laughter; And when the words came out, they were disgraceful above measure. "The person in this tomb," said the lady, "is the stupid fool my late husband, who, having the ill-luck to die, has laid his bones here. During his life he was very uxorious; when dead, he was unwilling to leave me, and by his dying injunctions desired that, should I wish to marry again, I should wait till the funeral was finished, and the earth of his grave dry. Now I am fanning it, because I fear that the earth, being newly mounded, will be a long time drying." "This lady," thought Chwang săng, to himself, suppressing a smile, "is of a hasty temperament; I am astonished that, in their life, they were on good terms; if they had not been so, there might have been some necessity for it." He then answered her: "If you want this earth to be dried and warmed, it is very easy to be done; but your wrists are weak, and have not strength for fanning. I will undertake the labour myself for you." "Good luck be with you!" said the lady, rising up and making á reverence; "I am much obliged to you," and taking with both hands the plain white fan, she presented it to Chwang săng, who, acting according to the principles of Taou, raised his hand, fanned some time over the head of the grave, when the water evaporated, and the ground became suddenly dry. The lady laughed till her face could be squeezed into your hand. "I have caused you the trouble, Sir," she said, "of exerting your strength;" and, lifting her delicate hand to the side of her hair, plucked out a silver hair-pin, and offered it, along with the fan, to Chwang săng, thanking him to her utmost. He declined the silver hair-pin, but accepted the fan, when she gaily went away. Chwang săng, not quite at ease in his mind, returned home, and, sitting in his thatched hall, looked at the fan, and sighed forth these stanzas : It is not those at variance, but those who dwell together; How soon it is perceived that, after death, there is no feeling or righteous- It is deemed that thoughts and love during life are enough. talking and sighing, Now, being a Taou master" in conmakes him sigh, Teën she, who stood behind him, and heard him came forward to ask him what was the matter. sze (or doctor of the Taou sect), he was addressed as versation. "What has my master," said she, "that and whence comes this fan?" He told her all that had happened about the lady who fanned the grave, and wanted the earth to dry in order to marry again. "This is the fan," said he, "which was employed for that purpose, and the lady gave it me because I assisted her to the best of my power." When Teën she heard this, she fell immediately into a violent passion, and "going into the skies," declared the woman to be destitute of all virtue, and amidst a volley of abuse of her, said to her husband: "There are few in the world like this unfeeling woman!" Chwang săng again gave vent to four lines of poetry : In their life, each speaks with the deepest gratitude! After death, all long to fan the grave! You may paint a tiger or a dragon, you cannot pain the bone; 66 When Teën she heard this, she was highly enraged. From of old it has been said, "Murmurs disparage affection, and anger forgets ceremony," and Teën she, while speaking in a passion, paid no regard to persons, but foamed forth, saying: Although men are alike, and there is no difference between sages and fools, how can you talk in this light manner, and look upon all women as if they had one and the same principle? Lo! one person destitute of good principles involves several excellent ones. Are not you sensible of some fault and error yourself?" "I do not want,” replied he, "to play on the air, or chatter nonsense; suppose I unhappily should die; after my death would you, whose beauty resembles flowers and jade, restrain yourself from marrying three or five years?” “A faithful minister,” she answered, "does not serve two princes, and a chaste woman never marries a second time; when has a well-disposed female ever been seen to drink the tea or sleep in the beds of two families? If, unfortunately, this sad lot should befal me, do not mention a few years, for I should remain a widow my whole life, and in my very dreams I should think of you." "It is impossible to say so,” replied he. "You think," rejoined Teën she, angrily, "that women are exactly like you men, destitute of virtue, and devoid of justice; when one wife is dead, you look out for another; you divorce this, and take that; all that can be said in your favour is, that one is not worse than another; but you should remem ber that we women are one saddle for one horse." Then, approaching Chwang sång, she snatched the fan out of his hand, and tore it into shreds. “There is no necessity to put yourself in a passion,” said he; "I only wish that you may be as good as you profess to be.” He said no more, but some days after, fell ill suddenly; the disease continued to increase, and grew serious. Teën she sighed, and wept at the head of his bed. 66 'My disease is rapidly gaining strength," said he, "and I must say farewell for ever! You will soon regret the destruction of the fan, which, had it remained, would have been useful to fan my grave." "Ah! master," replied she, "pray do not mention it. I have studied and know the rites—to follow one husband and no more—and I swear that I have no other idea. If you do not believe me, I will die in your presence, to shew the sincerity of my heart." "It is quite enough," said Chwang săng; "I die-my eyes grow dim." When he had ended this, his breath ceased. Teën she touched the corpse with her hand, burst into a loud wail, and requested the neighbours around to prepare a shroud and coffin to bury him. Dressed in complete mourning, Teën she was in genuine grief for several mornings, weeping all night, constantly thinking of the affection of her husband, of his kindness during his lifetime, and her rest and meals were altogether neglected, as if she had been ill or intoxicated. Since Chwang săng was known to have been a scholar in retreat, withdrawing his name from the world, those who dwelt near the hill came to pay visits of condolence and respect, and the place was as busy as a market. On the ninth day, unexpectedly arrived a young and elegant student, whose face was like a picture, and his lips as though they had been smeared with vermilion, incomparably beautiful! He was a first-rate young man of fashion; dressed in nankeen coloured clothes, with a black cap, embroidered girdle, and scarlet shoes. He brought along with him an old man-servant, and gave himself out as Wang seen, grandson of the king of Tsoo, and that having been connected last year with Chwang săng, he desired to be instructed by him, and had come on purpose this very day to visit him; but seeing that he was dead, he could only testify his regret, and put off as quickly as possible his coloured clothes. He then commanded his old servant to take his mourning clothes out of his valise, and having put them on, bowed down four times to the corpse, and said, "Oh, Chwang săng, unpredestined am I, not having seen you face to face, and received your instructions! A hundred days will I wear mourning for my master, exhausting the feelings of my private friendship." He then bowed four times more, shed some tears, and begged to see Teën she. At first, she declined the interview, but the prince said, " According to the ancient rites, wives and concubines of intimate friends were not accustomed to retire. Besides, I stand to him in the relation of a pupil." Teën she only just came out of the hall in which the corpse lay, to receive the prince's compliments, and after exchanging them, gave a glance at the prince, and his person being a very fine one, she was struck with it, and fell in love with him. She regretted that she had no servant to intro 66 duce him. "Although my master is deceased," said he, "I cannot fail to think of his kindness, and I ask permission to lodge here for a short time, to stop some days, first, in order to take charge of my master's funeral, and in the second place, to see whether he has left behind him any comments. His pupil begs the favour of a glance at them, in order to receive his last instructions." "Where cannot the justice of an intimate friend dwell for a long time?" said Teën she. She then prepared dinner, and they blended their mutual sighs. After dinner, Teen she took the books of her late husband, the Nan hwa king (classic of Southern Flower Hill), and the Taou tih king (book of the way and virtue), freely producing them to the prince. Wang seen reiterated his thanks to her, and at the thatched hall selected a place for the funeral tablet. He silently bowed at the left side of the couch, and Teën she every day, under pretence of going there to lament the deceased, approached the side of the couch, in order to converse with Wang seen. Daily her affection grew stronger; their glances came and went, and their feelings could not be suppressed. He, indeed, was only half, but she completely fascinated; and should she in this retreat make a slip, there was no one's scandal to apprehend about her husband being recently coffined. However, when a woman courts a man, it is impossible to speak to him about it. 66 Having restrained herself some days-it was not yet half a monththis lady's heart, like an ape, and her thoughts like a dog or a horse, would be kept under no longer. She privately called the prince's old servant into her room, gave him some excellent wine, mollified him with fair speeches, and complaisantly inquired, "Is your master married or not?" "He never has been married yet,” said the old man. "Has your master yet selected any one whom he intends marrying?" rejoined Teën she. The old man, who was rather drunk, said: "My master has declared that, if he could obtain a renowned beauty, like you, madam, all his wishes would be gratified." "Did he really say so?" exclaimed the widow, impatiently, or are these falsehoods?" "An old Chinaman like me," said the servant, "and stricken in years, would not dare to tell lies." "I wish to make use of you," said the widow, “if it is not disagreeable to you, as a go-between, to bring about my marriage with your master." "He has discussed it with me," said the old servant, "and declared that it would be a very good match; only that he respects the relation of pupil and master, and fears the animadversions of the world." "Why, your master, in reality," said the widow, "did not have any intercourse with my late husband, neither did he listen orally to his instructions, and he would not violate the relationship of master and pupil; besides the hill is retired, the dwelling lone, the neighbouring cottages distant, who is there to make remarks? You must get over the difficulties, and I shall then beg you to drink some happy wine." The old servant agreed, and when he was on the point of departing, she called him back again, and said: "Should he assent, don't mind whether it is morning or night, but come at once to my room, and bring me word of it: I shall wait on purpose here." After he had gone, the widow went towards the place where the corpse lay, and stretched herself several times, apprehensive of not being able, with 66 a piece of fine twine, to bind the young man's handsome foot;" she delayed retiring to rest, and in solitude endured insupportable anxiety. At dusk, she went into the mourning chamber, and listened to the breathing on the left hand side of the couch, to which there was an answering echo from the top of the coffin. She gave a leap in a fright, exclaiming, "It is the departed spirit coming forth," and hastily retiring to her chamber, took a lamp to look at it. Now it happened that the old servant had got drunk, and fallen asleep on the couch of the corpse on the table, but she did not dare to reprimand him or call out, and could only return to her chamber, and counting the watches and minutes, pass another night. Next morning, seeing the old servant pacing about, but not coming to give her any answer about what had been proposed, she felt the utmost impatience, and called him into her room. "It cannot be it cannot be!" said the man. "Why not?" asked she; "it is not because what I said to you last night was not sufficiently explicit?" "I told him all,” the old man replied, "and what my master said is quite right. As to your beauty and carriage, he says they are unexceptionable; and inasmuch as he had not received the instructions of your husband as his master, he does not raise any difficulty on that score; but there are three unpropitious circumstances which must be told you." "What are they?" said she, in breathless anxiety. "First of all, my master says," answered the old servant, "that, 'having made my appearance in the midst of an unlucky circumstance, should I set in train a marriage with her, there would be no heartfelt happiness, no pleasure; secondly, they lived together affectionately as man and wife, and besides that, he was a celebrated sage of the sect of Taou, my learning is decidedly not equal to his, and I am fearful of being despised; thirdly, my baggage is still behind, and not yet come to hand, and whence are the expenses of the marriage-presents and feast to come from? there is no one from whom I could procure it' these are the three reasons why the union cannot be accomplished." "There is no necessity," answered Teen she, "of making difficulties out of these three circumstances; a dead corpse is not the source of life; behind the house there is a small room to which I can call some persons to bear him out-there is one obstacle got over; secondly, my late husband, although he might have been a famous sage of the Taou sect, had not been a very correct person, having the idea of divorcing his wife; persons may praise his empty virtue, and the King of Tsoo coveted his hollow reputation, desiring, by means of valuable presents, to retain him as a minister; but he fled here, conscious of the deficiency of his powers and talents. Some months ago, rambling down the hill, he met a widow with a fan, fanning a grave, and waiting till it was dry to marry again. The fool, having talked and played with her, snatched her fan, and fanned the grave for her himself, returned home with the fan, which I took and broke; on which account, some days after, when he was at the point |