Читаем Three Kingdoms Romance полностью

Wang Yun feigning intoxication said, “My little child begs you, General, to take a cup or two. We all depend upon you, all our house.”

Lu Bu begged Diao Chan to sit down. She pretended to wish to retire. Her master pressed her to remain, saying that she might do so since the guest was a dear friend. So she took a seat modestly near her master.

Lu Bu kept his gaze fixed upon the maid, while he swallowed cup after cup of wine.

“I should like to present her to you as a handmaid; would you accept?” said Wang Yun.

The guest started up.

“If that is so, you may rely upon my abject gratitude,” said Lu Bu.

“We will choose a propitious day ere long and send her to the palace.”

Lu Bu was overjoyed. He could not keep his eyes off Diao Chan, and loving glances flashed from her liquid eyes.

However the time came for the guest to leave, and Wang Yun said, “I would ask you to remain the night, but the Prime Minister might suspect something.”

Lu Bu thanked him again and again and departed.

Some few days later when Wang Yun was at court and Lu Bu was absent, Wang Yun bowed low before Dong Zhuo and said, “I wish that you would deign to come to dine at my lowly cottage; could your noble thought bend that way?”

“Should you invite me, I would certainly hasten,” was the reply.

Wang Yun thanked him. Then Wang Yun went home and prepared in the reception hall a feast in which figured every delicacy from land and sea. Beautiful embroideries surrounded the chief seat in the center, and elegant curtains were hung within and without. At noon next day, when the Prime Minister arrived, Wang Yun met him at the gate in full court costume. Wang Yun stood by while Dong Zhuo stepped out of his chariot, and Dong Zhuo and a host of one hundred armed guards crowded into the hall. Dong Zhuo took his seat at the top, his suite fell into two lines right and left; while Wang Yun stood humbly at the lower end. Dong Zhuo bade his people conduct Wang Yun to a place beside himself.

Said Wang Yun, “The great Prime Minister's abundant virtue is as the high mountains; neither the ancient sages — Yi Yin and Duke Zhou — could attain thereto.”

Dong Zhuo smiled. They bore in the dishes and the wine, and the music began. Wang Yun plied his guest with assiduous flattery and studied deference. When it grew late and the wine had done its work, Dong Zhuo was invited to the inner chamber. So he sent away his guards and went.

Here the host raised a goblet and drank to his guest, saying, “From my youth up I have understood something of astrology and have been studying the aspect of the heavens. I read that the days of Han are numbered, and that the great Prime Minister's merits command the regard of all the world, as when King Shun succeeded King Yao, and King Yu continued the work of King Shun, all by the strength of their own merits, conforming to the mind of Heaven and the desire of people.”

“How dare I expect this?” said Dong Zhuo.

“From the days of old, those who walk in the way have replaced those who deviate therefrom; those who lack virtue have fallen before those who possess it. Can one escape fate?”

“If indeed the decree of Heaven devolves on me; you shall be held the first in merit!” said Dong Zhuo.

Wang Yun bowed. Then lights were brought in and all the attendants were dismissed, save the serving maids to hand the wine. So the evening went on.

Presently Wang Yun said, “The music of these everyday musicians is too commonplace for your ear, but there happens to be in the house a little maid that might please you.”

“Excellent!” said the guest.

Then a curtain was lowered. The shrill tones of reed instruments rang through the room, and presently some attendants led forward Diao Chan, who then danced on the outside of the curtain.

A poem praises her:

For a palace this maiden was born,

So timid, so graceful, so slender,

Like a tiny bird flitting at morn

Over the dew-laden lily buds tender.

Were this exquisite maid only mine,

For never a mansion I'd pine.

Another poem runs thus:

The music falls; the dancer comes, a swallow gliding in,

A dainty little damsel, soft as silk;

Her beauty captivates the guest yet saddens him within,

For he must soon depart and leave her there.

She smiles; no gold could buy that smile, no other smiled so,

No need to deck her form with jewels rare.

But when the dance is over and coy glances come and go,

Then who shall be the chosen of the fair?