Tang Xian-zu, Peony Pavilion:

Selected Acts

While the Northern "variety play" (za-ju) was flourishing in the Yuan capital at Da-
du in the thirteenth century, a very different kind of drama was also taking shape in
the South. Although "variety plays" continued as a genre of purely literary drama
through the Qing, the form had largely disappeared from the popular theater by the
late fifteenth century. Throughout the Ming, Southern drama continued to grow in
prominence, both as popular theater and as an elite literary form. These Southern-
style plays (so named for their musical style and its provenance-they were written
by northerners and southerners alike) continued to be the dominant form of literary
drama through the nineteenth century.
Southern-style drama came to be known as chuan-qi, "accounts of remarkable
things," the same generic term applied to Tang tales (which provided many of the
plots for the plays). For the sake of convenience, we will refer to chuan-qi plays as
"dramatic romances." Dramatic romances were often vast, sprawling works, usu-
ally with twenty to fifty scenes. Unlike the Northern variety play's restriction to one
singer per scene, dramatic romances allowed the free alternation of singing parts,
including duets and choruses. The plots of dramatic romances were often intricate,
with numerous subplots, usually weaving together one or more love stories with po-
1itical intrigue and/or warfare.
As classical poetry and song lyric had dominated the middle period of Chinese
literature through the Song, so drama was arguably the most popular literary form
of the Ming and the first half century of the Qing. Plays were widely read and per-
formed, with performances both of entire works and individual acts. By the late six-
teenth century, dramatists were already writing with a strong sense of the history of
earlier plays, and like modern film directors, they could assume that a significant
part of their audience would enjoy echoes of earlier works. Famous arias were cir-
culated in songbooks and became as much a part of a standard repertoire of mem-
orized texts as classical poetry; and as in the Renaissance West, the use of theatri-
cal metaphors to describe social and political life became common. One famous
passage translates quite literally, "All the world's a stage."
It is difficult to draw the line between drama as theater and drama as literature.
Not all great theater is good literature, and certainly not all great dramatic literature
is good theater. There is, however, a significant body of plays that provides ample
but different pleasures in both reading and performance. Many variety plays and dra-
matic romances are like the libretti of some famous Western operas: they were prob-
ably a delight as theatrical spectacle but seem vapid as literary texts. By the fifteenth
century, however, plays were being published to be read-some primarily intended

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to be read. Famous plays were often published in fine, illustrated editions, some-
times with elaborate literary commentary.
Although certain earlier dramatic romances were intended for reading as well
as performance, the most important figure in literary chuan-qi was Tang Xian-zu
(1550-1617). His four main plays are known as "Lin-chuan's Four Dreams" (Lin-
chuan being Tang Xian-zu's toponym). Dream serves an essential role in each of
these works, not only as a plot device but also as a thematic concern that touches
both the Buddhist idea of the emptiness of experience and an illusionist notion of
theater itself. The most famous of the four plays is Peony Pavilion (Mu-dan ting), writ-
ten in 1598, and consisting of 55 scenes (340 pages in Cyril Birch's complete trans-
lation).
An Aristotelian economy of plot is not characteristic of Chinese dramatic ro-
mances. As the play opens, a young scholar named Liu recounts a dream of a beau-
tiful young woman standing beneath a plum tree and takes Meng-mei (Dreamed of
Plum) as his name. Unbeknownst to Liu Meng-mei, the young woman in the dream
is Du Li-niang, the daughter of the prefect of Nan-an. Forced by her father to study
the Classic of Poetry, she reads the first poem, "Fishhawk," celebrating the perfect
marriage, and is so aroused by it that she arranges to go for a long walk in the flower
garden behind the residence.
Her passions stirred by spring, she returns to her rooms, falls asleep, and is vis-
ited by Liu Meng-mei in a dream. Liu Meng-mei carries her out into the garden and
they make love by the peony pavilion; when Du Li-niang wakes up, she is so over-
whelmed by a sense of loss that she pines away and dies. But before expiring, she
paints her own portrait, and as her dying wish the portrait is buried by the peony
pavilion, while she herself is buried beneath the plum tree in the garden.
After Du Li-niang's death, the family moves away; later, Liu Meng-mei, having
become sick on his way to the capital, takes up lodging in the garden to recuperate
and discovers Du Li-niang's portrait. Meanwhile Du Li-niang has received permis-
sion in the underworld to return to Earth, and she visits Liu, instructing him to dis-
inter her body. Liu Meng-mei digs up her corpse, which has suffered no decay. Du
Li-niang revives; the couple marries and goes on to the capital, where Liu Meng-
mei passes the examination with the highest honors.
In one of the other plot strands, Du Li-niang's father is playing a major role in
defending the dynasty from invasion. After numerous complications, including Liu
Meng-mei's being charged with grave-robbing, the final fourteen scenes manage to
get the couple together with her parents, until at last, in a scene at court, Du Li-niang's
father accepts the marriage.
First comes Tang Xian-zu's own "Introductory Comment" on the play.

An Introductory Comment on Peony Pavilion

The young women of the world experience the feelings of love, but can any
of them compare with Du Li-niang? No sooner did she dream of her man
than she grew sick; the sickness became protracted; at last she reached the
point of painting her likeness with her own hand in order to preserve it for
others; then she died. Three years she lay dead; and then, from the dark

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world below, once again she sought the man of whom she had dreamed; then
she came to life. Someone like Du Li-niang may well be called a person with
the feelings of love.
No one knows where love comes from, but once it comes, it goes deep.
The living can die from it; the dead can be brought to life. And if the living
cannot die from it or if the dead cannot be brought back to life, then it is
not the ultimate love.
Why should the feelings of love experienced in dream not necessarily be gen-
uine? Are there not quite a few people in this world who are living in a dream?
When the relationship between lovers depends on bedding together or intimacy
awaits the renunciation of public office, we are on the level of mere flesh.
The story of her father, Governor Du, resembles that of Li Zhong-wen,
the governor of the capital of Wu in the Jin, and the love story involving
Feng Xiao-jiang, the governor of Guang-zhou. I changed them a bit and elab-
orated them. As for Governor Du's torture of Liu Meng-mei to make him
confess to grave-robbing, this resembles the Han Prince of Sui-yang's inter-
rogation of Mr. Dan. 1
The things that may happen in a human life cannot all happen in a sin-
gle lifetime. I am not someone of comprehensive knowledge, and I must al-
ways investigate matters to consider whether they are rational. But when we
say that something cannot happen rationally, how do we know that it might
not be inevitable through the feeling of love?

The steamy, perfervid, and sometimes precious poetry of "Waking Suddenly from
Dream" (below) made it one of the most popular scenes in the play and a standard
piece in the performing repertoire of Kun-qu, the most influential performance tra-
dition of dramatic romance (though the scene was bowdlerized and revised for
singing). In the late seventeenth-century-play Peach Blossom Fan, the heroine Xiang-
jun is shown learning to sing one of the suites from this scene as part of her training
as a courtesan. As Du Li-niang learns of passion from reading the Classic of Poetry,
so Xiang-jun learns to be the romantic heroine who gives all for love from reading
Peony Pavilion. In both cases, the lessons learned were not at all what was intended
by those in charge of the girls' education.

WAKING SUDDENLY FROM DREAM (X)

- :7
Enter Du LI-NIANG and her maid, SPRING SCENT.

Du LI-NIANG [sings]:
Back from dreams in orioles' warbling,
a tumult of bright spring weather
everywhere, and here I stand
in the heart of this small garden.

'These are all earlier tales whose plot elements served as sources for Peony Pavilion.

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SPRING SCENT [sings]:

The stick of aloes burns away, its smoke is gone,
thrown down,
the last embroidery threads-
why does this spring touch my feelings
so much more than springtimes past?
Du LI-NIANG [recites]:
I gazed down toward Plum Pass
at dawn,
last night's make-up traces fading.
SPRING SCENT [continuing]:
Hair done in tumbling coils
with swallow cut-outs to welcome spring
as you lean upon the railing.
Du LI-NIANG:
"Cut but never severed,
put in order,
then tangled again-"
a melancholy without cause.
SPRING SCENT:
I have issued instructions to orioles
and have given direction to swallows
that hurry along the flowers,
to take advantage of the spring
and come see, come see.
Du LI-NIANG: Did you have someone sweep up the path through the flow-
ers?
SPRING SCENT: I did.
Du LI-NIANG: Then get out my clothes and vanity mirror and bring them to
me.
SPRING SCENT leaves and returns with clothes and vanity mirror.
SPRING ScENT [recites]:
Done combing her cloudlike tresses,
she looks into the mirror,
ready to change her lacy gown
she adds another sachet.
Here's what you asked for.
Du LI-NIANG [sings]:
Sunlit floss comes windborne coiling
into my quiet yard,
swaying and bobbing, spring is like thread.
I stop a moment to straighten
the flowered pins in my hair
to suddenly find that the mirror plunders

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half my face, prodding

my sparkling tresses to one side. [Walks away]
Though I pace my chambers, do I dare
let my body be seen entire?
SPRING SCENT:
You're nicely dressed up today.
Du LI-NIANG [sings]:
Note the skirt's madder red,
set off by vivid azure,
the opulent glitter of flowered pins
richly inlaid with gems-
you can tell
my lifelong love of such,
comes from my nature-
spring's finest touch
is seen by no man ever.
No matter if, at the sight,
the fish dive deep
or wild geese come down
or birds squawk out in alarm,
I only fear to shame the flowers,
to make the moon hide away,
and blossoms will quiver from sorrow.
SPRING SCENT: It's time for breakfast. Let's go. [They walk] Just look!
[Recites]
Gold dust on painted walkways,
half is scattering of stars,
the moss at the lodge by the pool,
a single swathe of green.
Walking through grass, afraid to stain
new stockings of brocade,
feeling sorry that flowers ache
from the tiny golden bells. 2
Du LI-NIANG: If I hadn't come to the garden, how could I have ever known
how beautiful spring was. [Sings]
Coy lavenders, fetching reds
bloom everywhere, here
all left to this broken well
and tumbled wall. Fair season,
fine scene-overwhelming
weather. Where

2
A reference to a story about the Tang Prince of Ning early in the 740s. He had bells hung by red
threads from flowers' branches, to scare away birds that might harm the blooms. Here, hyperboli-·
cally, even the smallest bells might themselves hurt the flowers when rung.

884
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

and in whose garden shall we find

pleasure and the heart's delight?
My father and mother have never mentioned such scenery.
TOGETHER:
Drifting in at dawn, at twilight
roll away
clouds and colored wisps
through azure balustrades,
streaming rain, petals in wind,
a painted boat in misty waves,
the girl behind her brocade screen
has long ignored
such splendor of spring.
SPRING SCENT: All the flowers have bloomed, but it's still early for the peony.
Du LI-NIANG:
Throughout green hills the nightjar cries
red tears of blood; and out beyond
the blackberry, the threads
of mist coil drunkenly.
Oh, Spring Scent!
And though the peony be fair,
how can it maintain its sway
when spring is leaving?
SPRING SCENT: The orioles and swallows are mating!
TOGETHER:
Idly I stare
where twittering swallows crisply speak
words cut clear,
and from the warbling orioles comes
a bright and liquid melody.
Du LI-NIANG: Let's go.
SPRING SCENT: I really can't get enough of this garden.
Du LI-NIANG: Let it go! [They walk on; she sings]
When you cannot get enough, you are ensnared,
then to enjoy each
of the twelve pavilions is wasted.
When the first impulse wears away,
it is better by far
to turn back home and idly pass the day.
They arrive.
SPRING SCENT [recites]:
Open the gate to my western parlor,
in the eastern parlor make my bed.
The vase has purples-that-shine-in-hills,

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to the brazier aloeswood incense add.

You rest here a bit while I go check with your mother. [Exit]
Du LI-NIANG [sighs and recites]:
In silence back from a springtime stroll,
I'll do my face in the fashion of spring.
Oh, spring, now that I have become attached to you, what am I going
to do with myself when you go? Ai! Weather like this really wears a per-
son out. Where is Spring Scent? [She looks around, then lays her head
down, mumbling] My goodness! Is it really true that spring's beauty can
upset a person so? I've always read poems and lyrics, and in olden days
young women's passions were stirred by spring, then when autumn came
that passion turned to pain. That was really no lie. Now is my sixteenth
year and I have not yet encountered a man who has "snapped the cas-
sia twig." 3 Now that I feel this sudden yearning for springtime passion,
how will I get a visitor to my lunar palace? 4 Once upon a time Lady Han
got to meet young Yu You, and Zhang chanced on Cui Ying-ying; and
lovers got together in The Account of the Poem on a Red Leaf and "Cui
Hui's Story. " 5 These fair ladies and talented young men first got together
in secret, and they all formed marriage alliances later. [Sighs] I was born
into a family of officials and I have grown up in an illustrious household.
Yet I have already reached fifteen, the age to have one's hair pinned up,
without having found a worthy mate. I'm wasting the spring of my life,
whose years flash past me. [Weeps] What a pity that this complexion so
like a flower is destined to end up like a leaf. [Sings]
I cannot purge this riot of passion,
I am suddenly plunged into secret despair.
Young and winsome, for me must be chosen
a match from a house of equal station,
equal station, kin to the very gods.
Yet what blessed union would squander
the green spring of my youthful years?
Who sees my slumbering passion?
So must I remain retiring and demure.
But secret dreams will lead me where?-
rolled on unseen with the light of spring.

3
1.e., had success in the examinations.
4Du Li-niang is comparing her loneliness to that of the moon goddess Chang E.
'Lady Han, in the Tang palace, once composed a poem of her loneliness and longing on a red leaf;
she let it float out on the palace moat, where it was found by Yu You. His consequent passion for
her and their love story was elaborated in a play by Tang Xian-zu's contemporary Wang Ji-de, The
Account of the Poem on a Red Leaf. The love story of Zhang and Cui Ying-ying given in "Ying-ying's
Story" (seep. 540) was elaborated and given a happy ending in the Yuan play The Account of the
Western Parlor, which is the version Du Li-niang has in mind. The story of the courtesan Cui Hui
and her lover Pei Jing-zhong involves Cui sending Pei a painting of herself, as Du Li-niang will leave
a painting for Liu Meng-mei.

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As I waver here
to whom can I tell heart's secret care?
I burn away,
my life is cursed, unless
I demand that Heaven tell me why.
I'm completely worn out. I'll put my head down and sleep a while.
She goes to sleep and a dream comes. Enter Lru MENG-MEI, holding a willow
(liu) branch.
Lru MENG-MEI [recites]:
As orioles meet the sunlight's warmth
their singing voices mellow,
so when a man finds love and passion,
he laughs out loud from joy.
A whole pathful of fallen flowers
go off down to the waters,
this is the morning young Ruan Zhao
reaches Mount Tian-tai. 6
I followed Du Li-niang back along the path, but where has she gone now?
[Turns and looks at her] Ah, there you are! [Du LI-NIANG startles awake
and they see one another] Here you are-I was looking for you every-
where. [Du LI-NIANG gives him a sidelong glance but says nothing] I just
snapped off half a branch of a weeping willow in the flower garden. Since
you are so well versed in literature, would you write a poem for this wil-
low branch? [Du LI-NIANG is at first delighted and is about to speak but
stops]
Du LI-NIANG [Aside]: I've never met this man-how did he get in here?
Lru MENG-MEI [laughing]: I'm madly in love with you.
[Sings]
Because of your flowerlike beauty,
and your youth flowing past like water,
I've looked for you everywhere.
And you were here,
self-pitying in your lonely chamber.
Let's go somewhere and talk.
Du LI-NIANG smiles but won't go. Lru MENG-MEI pulls her by her clothes.
Du LI-NIANG [softly]: Where are we going?
Lru MENG-MEI [sings]:
Pass round by the railing
whete peonies stand,

6
This alludes to a story of Ruan Zhao and a companion who encountered two goddesses in the Tian-
tai Mountains and stayed with them h'llf a year. It became a standard figure for a love affair.

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close by the great Tai-hu rock.

Du Lr-NIANG [softly]: But what are we going there for?
Lru MENG-MEI [sings]:
To unfasten your collar's buttons
and loosen the sash of your gown.
You will hold your sleeves pressed
tight against teeth,
then after you bear
my tender attentions,
enjoy a moment's sleep.
Du Lr-NIANG is embarrassed. Lru MENG-MEI puts his arms around her and she
pushes him away.
TOGETHER [sing]:
Where have we met before
that we look at [Link] unsure?
How at a wonderful moment like this
could we come together without a word?
Lru MENG-MEI forces his arms around Du LI-NIANG and exeunt. Enter
FLOWER Goo, with cap under bound-up hair, a red gown, and flowers stuck
in cap and gown.
FLOWER Goo [recites]:
As supervisor who expedites flowers
I cherish the flower-days,
inspecting spring's endeavors
another year goes its way.
The visitor suffers heartbreak, drenched
under a rain of reds,
and mortals are lured to be hung in dream
beside these colored clouds.
I am the flower god who manages the rear flower garden of the Nan-an
district residence. Du Li-niang and Liu Meng-mei are fated to marry in
the future. Since Miss Du was so upset after her little spring excursion,
she had Mr. Liu come into her dream. We flower gods have a special
tender spot for fair young maidens, so I came to watch over her, want-
ing her to enjoy perfect bliss in her lovemaking. [Sings]
Now the turbid Yang force simmers up
transforming,
and see how he, squirming like worm,
fans her passion.
Likewise her soul quivers at the crack
in charming azure foliage.
This is but shadows' conjunction,
fancies brought to fullness within,

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things appearing inside Karmic Cause.

But, ah, these lewd doings have stained
my galleries of flowers.
I'll pinch off a blossom and let it fall to wake her. [He goes toward the
stage entrance dropping flowers]
How can she linger in her dream,
woozy with spring?-
in red flecks of tattered flowers falling.
Young man, your dream is now half-done. When the dream is over, be
so good as to escort Miss Du back to her chambers. I go now. [Exit]
Enter Du Lr-NIANG and Lru MENG-MEI, holding hands.
Lru MENG-MEI [sings]:
For this one moment
Heaven gives ease,
sprawled in grass,
asleep on flowers.
How are you? [Du LI-NIANG lowers her head]
She nods her cloudlike coils of hair,
with tousled red and azure skewed.
Don't forget this!
how I clasped you tight
and languidly lingered-
! wish only our flesh
could fuse in a ball,
we drew forth red droplets
that shimmered in the sun.
Du Lr-NIANG: You had better go now.
TOGETHER [sing]:
Where have we met before
that we look at each other unsure?
How at a wonderful moment like this
could we come together without a word?
Lru MENG-MEI: Your body is worn out. Take care of yourself. [He goes with
her back to where she was and she resumes her position asleep; he pats
her lightly] I'm going now. [He starts off, then turns back] You've got
to take care of yourself now. I'll be back to see you.
[Recites]
She brought along a third of the rain
that comes with springtime's glory,
she slept away a whole cloudburst
on Wu Mountain. [Exit]
Du LI-NIANG [suddenly waking and softly calling out]: You've gone, you've
gone! [She sinks back into sleep]

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Enter MR.s. Du.

MRs. Du [recites]:
My husband sits in a yellow hall,
my sweet daughter stands by her window.
Even on her embroidered dress
the birds and flowers are all in pairs.
Daughter, how come you have dozed off here?
Du LI-NIANG [waking and opening her mouth as if calling Lru]: Aiya!
MR.s. Du: Child, what's going on?
Du LI-NIANG [getting up, startled]: Momma, you're here!
MR.s. Du: Child, why don't you do some needlework or read something for
pleasure to ease your mind? Why are you sleeping here in broad daylight?
Du LI-NIANG: I happened to go out to enjoy myself in the flower garden, but I
suddenly felt upset by the excitement of springtime and returned to my rooms.
There was nothing else to do, and without knowing it, I was worn out and
took a little nap. I hope you'll excuse me for not being awake to greet you.
MRS. Du: The flower garden is too isolated-don't go there to take walks.
Du LI-NIANG: Yes, Mother.
MR.s. Du: Now go off to your classroom and study.
Du LI-NIANG: The teacher's not here so we have a little time off.
MRS. Du [sighing]: When a daughter grows up, it's natural that she gets
moody, so I'll just let her be for a while. As they say,
[Recites]
She's pulled one way and another by her children,
a mother's lot is hard toil. [Exit]
Du LI-NIANG [giving a long sigh as she watches her mother leave]: Heavens!
Today was certainly full of pleasant surprises for me! I chanced to go
into the flower garden, and with all the flowers blossoming around me,
the scene stirred me. My spirits sagged and I went back and took a nap
in my room. Suddenly I saw a young man, about twenty years old, hand-
some and so very attractive. He had broken a strand of willow branch
in the garden, and laughing, he said to me, "Since you are so well versed
in literature, would you write a poem for this willow branch?" At that
moment I was going to give him an answer, but I thought it over, and
since I'd never met him before and didn't know his name, how could I
casually hold a conversation with him just like that?
As I was thinking about this, he came out with some lines about how
heartsick he was, then he threw his arms around me and we went off to
beside the peony pavilion, right by the railing, and we made love together.
Both of our hearts were in perfect accord, with a thousand shows of love
and a million tendernesses. When our pleasure was finished, he escorted
me back to where I was sleeping and said "Take care of yourself" a few
times. I was just about to see him out the door when my mother sud-
denly came in and woke me up.

890
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

My whole body is in a cold sweat. This was really one of those "life-
times lived in a dream." I was all flustered when I greeted my mother,
and she rambled on at me. I had nothing to say back to her because my
mind was still on what happened in the dream and I hadn't calmed
down. I feel a constant restlessness, as ifI had lost something. Oh Mother,
you told me to go to the classroom and study-I don't know any book
I can read that will get rid of this depression. [Wipes away tears and sings]
Rain's sweet scent, a puff of cloud
just came to my side in dream.
But, alas, the lady of the house
called me awake from my fitful sleep
by the gauze-screened window.
A burst of fresh cold sweat
sticks to me and stings.
It drives my heart to distraction,
my footsteps freeze,
my thoughts waver,
my hair hangs askew.
All spirit is almost spent,
and since neither sitting nor standing pleases me,
let me go off back to sleep!
Enter Spring Scent.
SPRING SCENT [recites]:
Her evening toilette melts powder's streaks,
spring dampness makes scenting clothes a waste.
The covers have been scented, so let's go to sleep.
Du LI-NIANG [sings]:
This spring-troubled heart is weary
from roaming; it seeks
no scented broidered quilts to sleep.
Heaven!-if you care,
let not that dream be gone too far.
[Recites]
To idly roam and gaze on spring
I left the painted hall, [Zhang Yue]
screening willows and open plums
give overpowering scent. [Luo Ye]
I wonder where young Liu and Ruan
met the two fairy maids?- [Xu Hun]
with a turn of the head spring's east wind
breaks the heart for good. [Wei Zhuang]

In many cultures, one of the most durable and revealing conventions in early tradi-
tions of romantic love is falling in love upon seeing a portrait of the beloved or hear-

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

ing a description of him or her; and in the Chinese tradition, sometimes upon read-
ing a person's writings. Liu Meng-mei, strolling in the garden where, unknown to
him, Du Li-niang lies buried, finds the self-portrait Du Li-niang made before she died.
The portrait shows her holding a plum branch, and the poem he discovers makes
reference to willows and plums. He finds this portentous, in that his surname Liu
means "willow," and the name he has taken, Meng-mei, means "Dreamed of Plum."

LOOKING OVER THE PORTRAIT (XXVI)

Enter LIU MENG-MEI.
LIU MENG-MEI [recites]:
On leaves of the plantain tree
raindrops do not stay,
on branches of the peony
soon the breeze will draw away.
Unclear, the portrait's. meaning,
let eyes focus there
where barely to announce itself
spring light makes its way.
Feeling lonely and somewhat downhearted during my travels, I took a
stroll in the garden at the rear of the compound. At the foot of the Great
Lake rock, I picked up a small painting on a scroll. I think it must be of
the Boddhisattva Guan-yin. It was well protected in a precious case. The
past ten days have been stormy, so I couldn't unroll it and take a close
look; but happily the weather today is pleasant and bright, so I can ex-
amine it and offer my devotions. [Opens the box and unrolls scroll]
[Sings]
As in the Silver River of stars
the autumn moonlight hangs,
her body divine unrolls,
free from attachments, self-contained.
Here confirmed
are all her sacred signs.
She is really in holy Potala, yet
we chance to meet
here by the southern sea.
But [reflectively]
why is her radiant majesty
not set upon her lotus seat?
And wait a moment more!-
why, beneath her Xiang silk skirt,
is there a pair
of wave-traversing, dainty feet?

892
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

If this is Guan-yin, why does she have bound feet? I'd better look this
over more closely.
I'll think a little bit about
the image in the picture.
That's it!
I'll bet
it's probably a small Chang E
that hung in someone's studio,
painted with such charm and grace.
Well, if this is Chang E, I really ought to make some gesture of my re-
spect.
Tell me true, Chang E, will I
snap the spray of cassia. 7
But wait!-how come this Chang E
beside her image has no trace
of lucky cloud?
And this cracked bark
does not seem like
the tiny blooms of her cassia grove.
It may not be Guan-yin and it may not be Chang E, but there couldn't
possibly be a mortal girl like this.
Amazed aml
and overwhelmed:
I think I've met her once before,
and I grope for it in memory.
Let me have a good look. What this drawn by a professional painter or
by the beauty's own hand?
I wonder from where
came this painting's maiden fair,
beams of moonglow
that appear
beneath the brush.
Someone like her
would have made all the flower-kind bow low.
Her grace entirely innate,
a hard thing to delineate;
pale tresses, springtime wisps,
who could even approximate?
When I think about it, no professional painter could have done this.
Most likely only she herself
could have made this likeness.

That is, pass the examination, playing on the image of the cassia tree that grows in the moon.
7

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

Just a minute-if you look very closely at the top of the scroll, there are
a few lines of tiny characters. [Looks] Hmm. It's a quatrain. [Reads it
out loud]
Viewed up close it's obvious,
and very much like me,
seen afar, immortal flying
self-contained and free.
If someday I could join the man
in the palace of the moon,
it will be by the flowering plum,
or by the willow tree.
So this really is a picture of a mortal girl amusing herself. But what did
she mean by: "It will be by the flowering plum, /or by the willow tree"?
This is very strange!
[Sings]
Mountain passes and Plum Ridge,
a single swathe of sky-
1 look and wonder how she knew
that I,
Liu Meng-mei
would be coming through.
I wonder what she meant to say
by "join the palace of the moon"?
I'll be glad-but take it slow,
think it over carefully:
for I am Liu, the "Willow,"
and Meng-mei, "Dreamed of Plum"-
why should Chang E bother
here to fix my name?
Lost in thought, I ponder:
could my dream be true?
But 0 how she turns her gaze on me!
From light in empty air descends
beauty's slender grace,
stirring spring plantain,
billowing silk and lace.
Springtime passions there remain
confined between her brows
that trace
two azure hills of spring,
and balmy tresses of spring haze.
Who could lightly disregard
two pairs of eyes
meeting in such mutual gaze?

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 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

And I am awash in the flash

of the turning glance
and the unflinching sidelong stare.
But why she is holding a piece of a leafy plum sprig in her hand, just as
if she were holding me?
A leafy plum sprig in her hand,
a whispered poem, entice
heart's passions to a fall.
For me, a painted feast
sates hunger; and for her,
plum-gazing to slake thirst. 8
You, my dear,
never open mouth's lotus-bud
even a bit,
but smiles suppressed,
behind the pale brushstroke
of her crimson lips,
give strong intimation of her passion.
It seems she want to sadly speak-
all she needs is a puff of breath.
Her painting is like that of Cui Hui; her poem is like Su Hui; and her
calligraphy is exactly like that of Lady Wei. I may have some classical
dignity in my own work, but I'll never be this girl's match. Having met
her unexpectedly like this, I'll write a poem to match hers.
Her painting's excellence is due
to nature and not art-
if not an immortal of Heaven,
then an immortal of Earth.
Is he near or far-that man
she'd join in the moon?-
still there is some springtime here
by plum and willow tree.
[Sings]
Plying the brush she shows her skill,
good at writing poems,
their splendor enters stream and hill,
and others sing along.
I'm going to call out to her as loud as I can. My beauty! My love!
Do you know·

'That is, the painting is all he has to satisfy his desire, while the woman in the painting has the plum
in her hand to take the place of him .. This alludes to a story in which Cao Cao's soldiers were suf-
fering from thirst, and Cao Cao told them there was a grove of plum trees up ahead where they could
satisfy their thirst.

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

I am shouting my throat raw,

crying to my Zhen-zhen,
the painting that came alive.
I call to you to sneeze
a spray of heavenly petals. 9
The feet that skim the waves
would splendidly descend-
! do not see her image stir.
So, I'm all alone here. But I'll keep looking over her portrait and exam-
ining it, bowing to it, calling out to it, and praising it.
For laying hands on such as her
I deserve congratulation-
surely Willow and the Plum
have some deep connection.
And yet, my love, your eyes do slay me,
image without bo~y.
One should not too single-mindedly
make the painting bear reproach, [Bo Ju-yi]
but can one let it always hang
here at the courtyard door? [Wu Qiao]
In despair I write a poem,
hidden among willows, [Si-kong Tu]
it adds to drunkenness of spring,
sobering grows still harder. [Zhang Jie]

In the scene before "Secret Union," the Daoist nun who lives in the compound holds
a ceremony for Du Li-niang, who roams in ghostly form about the place. Du Li-niang
eventually hears Liu Meng-mei calling out to her. As scene XXVlll, "Secret Union,"
opens, Liu Meng-mei continues his lover's discourse, then falls asleep, to be visited
by Du Li-niang.

SECRET UNION (XXVIII) tt_J;,l ~

Enter Lru MENG-MEI.
Lru MENG-MEI [sings]:
Where is the goddess I glimpsed?-
her image blurs into empty air
like moonlight veiling sand.
Bereft, I linger here,
lost in a wordless reverie.

9
A sneeze was supposed to be a sign that someone, especially one's beloved, was speaking of or
thinking of a person.

896
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

And now already the evening sun

sinks down into the west.
[Recites]
A single puff of rose red cloud
came down from Heaven on high,
her coy smile, like a blossom,
jade's beguiling grace.
Who can picture forth for me
that sweet and living face,
facing me and holding back
a passion she cannot speak?
Ever since I encountered her features, in the passionate bloom of their
spring, she has been on my mind day and night. Now as the hours of
night grow late, I'll spend a little time reciting those pearls of verse and
mulling over her spirit. And if, by chance, she should come to me in
dream, it would be for me a spring breeze passing. [He unrolls the paint-
ing and looks it over] Just look at this beauty, her spirit restrained but
wanting so much to speak, her eyes pouring forth gentle waves. It makes
me think of those lines by Wang Bo: "Sinking wisps of rose red cloud
fly level with the solitary heron; and autumn waters share the same color
with broad expanse of sky."
[Sings]
The evening breeze blows down
one threadlike wisp of cloud
from Wu-ling stream,1
descending and emerging, she
of overwhelming grace.
Chaste and without flaw,
bright against the crimson lace
fresh in the window screen.
And once again
I take this little painting
and hang it in my heart.
Dear girl, thinking of you will be the death of me.
So delicate, so reticent, sweet maid,
tender and rdined, she seems
of noble family.
I envisage her·,
swept away by a passionate heart,
looking in the mirror,

'"Wu-ling stream" refers to "Peach Blossom Spring," which by the late imperial period had become,
in the popular imagination, the dwelling place of immortals.

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

and painting springlike features here,

her feelings locked within-
could she envisage then the man
who, finding this, would rouse her?
She comes in flight like moonbeams,
leaving me to find
a magnitude of melancholy sky.
Usually I can sleep any night facing the moon. These past few nights, though-
Its secret beauty sends
darkling flashes of lunar loveliness,
a brilliance overwhelming.
They raise a clamor in my besotted heart,
and whether night or light of day
my troubled yearnings fix on her.
If I did not fear to stain
your painting by taking it in hand,
I would lie in bed,
arms wrapped around your image.
I think that we are surely destined to be lovers. Let me read out those
lines of her poem one more time.
[Reads out poem]
She chose to speak in the poem
for one who would understand-
of destiny shared by "willow" and "plum."
Her passionate feelings gush
from the crack
in poolside rock,
and E-lii-hua, the goddess, flew
into this painting's silken mesh.
I should bow down before her.
I am in torment,
before cheeks' glow
and streak of brow
scratched into my heart,
and the one I love
is not off beyond the horizon.
As I stay here on my journey, how can I get her to meet me for just one
brief moment of love?
I hate how this narrow strip resists
our double metamorphosis-
put us on a painted screen,
I but a straw,
leaning against her jade white bough.

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 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

Love, can your ears, moon crescents crossed

by cloud-wisp tresses, hear
anything at all I say
from this broken heart?
I'm ridiculous-
flirting with her as I speak.
She is the autumn moon that hangs
by clouds' edge over the seas,
or azure shadow in misty skies,
brushed over distant hills.
She should be my companion
in pure, unruffled ease-
how can one even try
to tease her into passion?
I speak as if reciting spells
or reading out the scriptures.
The very stones may nod their heads,
and flowers rain from Heaven.
Yet why does such devotion not
bring the immortal maiden down?
It is that she
will not go strolling casually.
Wind rises within, and Lru takes the scroll.
To make the goddess stay,
fearing the wind's cruel caress,
I hold fast
to the ivory roller
on scroll's brocade.
I'm afraid she's going to be damaged. I'd better find some master to copy
the scroll.
I waste my breath!-
how could such glo~ious majesty,
Guan-yin who views the moon in water,
come as mortal to my bed?
Perhaps I'll meet her somewhere in the flesh,
then I'll ask her how much love she feels,
and it will be no less
than the sense conveyed
by this portrait of spring's passionate mood.
I'll trim the lamp wick again to look closely just one more time.
Such presence divine
would surely be feigned
if found in the world of mortal men.

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

[From within, a wind blows the lamp's flame]

Such a gust of cold wind I feel!
Take care lest sparks fall
on the painting's image.
Enough now-I'll try to sleep,
closing the gauze window screen,
and of her dream.
Goes to sleep. Enter the soul of Du Lr-NIANG.
Du LI-NIANG [recites]:
Long lying in the world below,
but no dream ever comes,
from my life there still remain
so many passions.
My moonlit soul goes following
the painting's pull,
I find him in the sound of sighs
borne upon the wind.
I am the soul of Du Li-niang, who had a dream of a garden in full flower
and then died of longing. It was then that I painted my own features in the
bloom of youth and buried it beneath the Great Lake rock. On it I wrote:
If someday I could join the man
in palace of the moon,
it will be by the flowering plum,
or by the willow tree.
After wandering here several evenings, little did I expect to hear from in-
side the eastern chambers a student cry out with a restrained voice, "My
beloved, my beauty!" There was misery in the sound of his voice, and it
stirred my very soul. I softly flitted into his chambers, where !saw a small
painting hung high on the wall. When I examined it more carefully, it
was the painting of my own youthful features that I had left behind. On
the back there was a companion piece to my poem. When I looked at
the signature, it was by Liu Meng-mei of Ling-nan. "By the flowering
plum-mei-or by the willow tree-liu"-there must be some destiny
at work here! And now with the leave of the authorities in the dark world
below, I have taken this fine night to finish out that dream begun before.
And I feel such bitter pain when I think of it.
[Sings]
I fear
how fragrance fades and powder chills
from tears
shed on the sheer vermilion gauze,
to Gao-tang's lodge again I come
to enjoy the glow of the moon.

900
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

Then all at once I turn and gasp in shame

at these disheveled coils of hair,
I pat them straight.
Ah, and here is his room right before me!

I fear being duped by the too straight way

that leads to Peach Blossom Spring,
let me swiftly be sure that it is him.
LIU MENG-MEI [reciting her poem in his sleep]:
If someday I could join the man
in palace of the moon,
it will be by the flowering plum,
or by the willow tree.
Dearest!
Du Lr-NIANG [listening with emotion]:
His cries break
the heart and make
tears flow-
these lines from my lost poem
he has without mistake.
I wonder if he's already asleep. [Peeks]
LIU MENG-MEI cries out again.
From within the screen where he sleeps
he recites with fierce sighs.
Keeping the noise low
I'll rap at his window frame of azure bamboo.
LIU MENG-MEI [waking up suddenly]: Dearest!
Du Lr-NIANG (moved):
I'll send the sweet soul off
to draw near.
LIU MENG-MEI: Hmmm. That sound of tapping on the bamboo outside my
door-was it the wind or a person?
Du Lr-NIANG: A person.
LIU MENG-MEI: At this time of night you must be the Sister bringing tea. 2
You really shouldn't have.
Du Lr-NIANG: No, not her. .
Lru MENG-MEI: Then are you the itinerant nun staying here?
Du Lr-NIANG: No.
Lru MENG-MEI: Now that's really strange. And it's not the good Sister either.

2The Sister is the Daoist nun, "Sister Stone," who had established a small convent of the grounds of

Governor Du's former residence.

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

I wonder who it could be. Let me open the door and take a look. [Opens
the door and looks around]
[Sings]
Out of nowhere a lovely maid,
whose charms bedazzle
with uncommon wonder.
Du LI-NIANG smiles and slips inside. LIU MENG-MEI quickly closes the door.
Du LI-NIANG: Hello, young gentleman.
LIU MENG-MEI: May I ask you, miss, where you come from and why have
you come here so deep in the night?
Du LI-NIANG: Guess.
LIU MENG-MEI [sings]:
I'll bet it's because of that lout
Zhang Qian, whose raft
has invaded your River of Stars,3
or it must be little Liang Yu-qing
fleeing the punishment by night
of Heaven's officers? 4
Du LI-NIANG: Those are both immortals of Heaven. How could they be
here?
LIU MENG-MEI:
Are you the phoenix of bright colors
wrongly mated to a crow?
Du LI-NIANG shakes her head.
LIU MENG-MEI:
Did I somewhere for your sake
to the green poplar tie my horse?
Du LI-NIANG: We never met.
LIU MENG-MEI:
It must be your vision is blurred,
mistaking me for Tao Qian;5
if not, then perhaps you strayed,

3This is a common mixing of two allusions: first, of the Han explorer Zhang Qian, sent to find the

source of the Yellow River; and second, of the old man who rode a raft up into the River of Stars,
where he saw the Weaver Star. Liu Meng-mei is here comparing himself to the intruder on the raft
and Du Li-niang to the Weaver Star.
4
Liang Yu-qing was supposed to have been the immortal handmaiden of the Weaver. She ran off
with the star Tai-bo to Earth.
5 Tao Qian's "Peach Blossom Spring," the refuge in the mountain cut off from history, became mixed

up with another story about peach blossoms, in which two young men, Liu Zhen and Ruan Zhao,
met two goddesses. In this confusion Tao Qian sometimes became, incongruously, the figure of the
handsome young man that caught the goddess's roving eye. Liu Meng-mei suggests that Du Li-niang
is such a goddess, but a dim-sighted one.

902
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

eloping down the Lin-qiong Road. 6

Du Lr-NIANG: There is no mistake.
Lru MENG-MEI: Are you looking for a lamp?
And yet you go about by night
without a lamp? 7
And thus you wish to share my lamp,
red sleeves by my window of sapphire gauze.
Du Lr-NIANG [sings]:
I am not that heavenly maid
who scattered the blossoms of sacred scent
in vain; 8
nor am I the scholar's lamp
idly moist with waxen tears.
I am not like Zhao Swallow-in-Flight,
who came with reputation stained; 9
yet neither am I Zhuo Wen-jun
who would hold fast
to newly widowed chastity.
You, young sir, once strayed in flowers,
the dreaming butterfly.
Lru MENG-MEI [thinking]: Ye~, I did have such a dream before.
Du Lr-NIANG:
Thus did I, to oriole fifes,
go to the willow array.
And if you wonder where my rooms are-
not so far-
just some doors down from Song Yu's neighbor. 1
Lru MENG-MEI [thinking]: Yes! Turning west from the flower garden at sun-
down I saw a young woman walking.
Du Lr-NIANG: That was I.
Lru MENG-MEI: Who is your family?
Du Lr-NIANG fsings]:
Off beyond the setting sun,

6
This refers to the story of Zhuo Wen-jun, who, after hearing the Han writer Si-ma Xiang-ru play his
harp, ran off with him to Lin-qiong. Again, Liu Meng-mei suggests that Du Li-niang has the wrong
man.
7
Liu Meng-mei is alluding to the "Domestic Regulations" of the Classic of Rites, in which it says that
a woman must have a lamp when she travels by night, and when she has no lamp, she should stay
put.
8
This refers to a story in the Vimalakirti sutra, in which a heavenly maiden scattered divine blos-
soms on the body of the sick Vimalakirti-blossoms that did not cling to his body because of his
spiritual attainments.
9
The Han consort Zhao Swallow-in-Flight was said to have had an affair before entering the impe-
rial harem.
'"Song Yu's neighbor" is a literary allusion to a poetic exposition that became proverbial for the
beautiful "girl next door."

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Anthology of Chinese Literature

on the horizon
of fragrant prairies,
mother and father are all alone,
none other there.
My age is sixteen years, a bloom
sheltered by leaves from wind,
chaste beyond reproach.
Spring left,
I was stirred to sighs,
when suddenly I glimpsed
your manly grace.
For no other purpose have I come
but to trim the lamp wick in the breeze
and chat at ease
by the western window.
LIU MENG-MEI [aside]: Remarkable that such sensual beauty exists in this
mortal world! Out of nowhere in the middle of the night I have met a
bright-moon pearl. What can I say?
[Sings to Du LI-NIANG]
Wonder-struck by beauty,
her loveliness beyond compare,
. a smile flashes, passion's
silver taper.
The full moon seems to retire,
and I wonder
what night this could be
for the raft drifting through stars.
A woman with hairpins of gold
comes in night's cold,
a spirit of the upper air
to the bed of mortal man.
[Aside]
Yet I wonder of what sort of household
is she the child,
to welcome me in this fashion?
I'll ask more about her. [Turning back to Du LI-NIANG] Is this perhaps
a dream that you come to visit me so deep in the night?
Du LI-NIANG [smiling]: It is no dream; it is real. But I'm afraid you won't
have me.
LIU MENG-MEI: And I'm afraid it's not real. But if I am really beloved by such
a beauty, then I am happy beyond all expectation. How could I dare
refuse?
Du LI-NIANG: Don't worry-I have truly set my hopes on you.

904
 The Yuan and Ming Dynasties

[Sings]
On cold slopes of a secret valley,
you make me blossom flowers by night. 2
In no way was I ever wed,
as here you will discover
one by good family closely kept.
At the peony pavilion
loving heart's affection;
by the lake rock's side,
shy and blushing bride;
window of the scholar's room,
in rattling of wind.
Let this fine night not be lost,
the cool breeze, bright moon
costs us nothing. 3
Lru MENG-MEI:
In amazement melts the soul
and wakes from sleep in moonlit chill.
A burst of sudden splendor,
and I wonder
if this might be
Wu Mountain in a dream. 4
I am humbled by the way you tread
in flowers' shade
without the least dread,
by the way you touch green moss
not sliding on its slipperiness,
by the way you ignore
a daughter's obligation,
feeling no intimidation,
and, certain that there is no error,
in the way you've chosen me.
Look how the Dipper's slanting low,
and how the flowers droop-
this late at night the flowers sleep.
Laugh merrily,
chant in bliss,
no breeze and moon will better this.

2This refers to a verse by Empress Wu, in which she commanded the flowers to blossom in the night
and not wait until dawn.
'"Cool breeze, bright moon" was a phrase that had become, in contexts like the present one, a stan-
dard figure for a sexual encounter.
4
Wu Mountain's goddess meeting the King of Chu was a standard figure for a sexual encounter, ei-
ther illusory or a reality so bewildering that it seems like illusion.

905
Anthology of Chinese Literature

Lend me of your own free will

your lovely softness,
and sweet charms,
and bear as I humble it,
humble it for but a moment.
Du LI-NIANG: Please forgive me, but let me first say one thing to you in all
earnest.
LIU MENG-MEI: Don't hold back-say whatever you want.
Du LI-NIANG: In this moment I give this precious body of mine to you. Do
not betray this love I feel. My lifelong wish would be fulfilled if every
night I could share pillow and mat with you.
LIU MENG-MEI [laughing]: Since you love me, how could I ever put you out
of my mind?
Du LI-NIANG: One more thing. Let me go back before the rooster crows.
Don't try to see me off-so that you will stay out of the early morning
wind.
LIU MENG-MEI: As you say. But let me ask your name.
Du LI-NIANG [sighs and sings]:
Flower must have its root,
the jade, its sprout,
but were I to tell, it would call forth
too great a sound of gale.
LIU MENG-MEI:
I look forward to your coming nightly from now on.
Du LI-NIANG:
And now with me
let us annotate and compare
this very first flower
in the spring breeze.
LIU MENG-MEI:
Surging manner, wild scent,
never encountered before, [Han Yu]
Du LI-NIANG:
the moon slants past the high chamber,
the bell before the dawn. [Li Shang-yin]
LIU MENG-MEI:
Dawn clouds go in by night,
no trace of their passage, [Li Bo]
Du LI-NIANG:
I wonder from which of the peaks
the goddess came. [Zhang Zi-rong]

906