Book Four: Dream of Oriole at the Thatched Bridge Inn - Scene One
Book Four: Dreaming of Yingying at Thatched Bridge Inn – First Fold
[Enter Male Lead, speaking:] Last night, the letter Hongniang brought promised me a rendezvous tonight. Now the first watch is nearly over, and still no one comes. Could the young lady be deceiving me? The mortal world is quiet in the deep night—will the celestial beauty come or not?
[To the Tune Xianlü · Dian Jiang Chun:]
I stand on the empty steps; the deep night is fragrant, crossing the Buddha’s realm. In this carefree study, the scholar is stifled with longing.
[To the Tune Hun Jiang Long:]
Where are the colored clouds? Moonlight like water soaks the tower and terrace. Monks have returned to their cells; crows caw in the locust trees of the courtyard. The wind stirs the bamboo, making me think it’s the jangling of gold pendants. The moon moves the flowers’ shadows, and I suspect it’s my beloved coming. My restless eyes, my anxious heart—body and soul, with no place to rest, I can only lean by the door and wait. Gradually, all tidings cease; even the yellow dog’s message fails. In every hour of the day, I have not let the young lady slip from my mind for a moment. How could you know that!
[To the Tune You Hu Lu:]
My spirit is dazed, my eyes too weary to open; lying alone on my pillow, my dream-soul flies to the Chuyang Pavilion. Had I known I’d suffer for her day and night, I’d rather never have met this beauty who topples cities. People have faults; they must blame themselves and not fear reform. I try to warn my heart with the maxim “revere virtue over lust,” but she comes to mind in an instant.
[To the Tune Tian Xia Le:]
I can only lean by the door, chin in hand—truly hard to guess: Will she come or not? I imagine it’s hard for her to leave the mistress. I gaze until my eyes are worn out, my heart grows ever narrower—most likely this dear tormentor is unwell. So late, and still no sign—could she be deceiving me again?
[To the Tune Ne Zha Ling:]
If she were willing to come, she’d have left her noble dwelling long ago; if she arrives, my study will bloom with spring; if she doesn’t, it’s like a stone sunk in the sea. Counting her footsteps, I lean by the window frame, waiting. Send word to the tender-hearted one:
[To the Tune Que Ta Zhi:]
Those harsh rebukes—I never stored them in my heart; I only hope for her change of heart, night after night, dawn after dawn. In vain we’ve exchanged glances for half a year—this interval has been truly hard to bear. If the young lady doesn’t come this time—
[To the Tune Ji Sheng Cao:]
Prepare for illness, prepare to be carried away. Thinking of this exile’s body forcing down tea and soup, only for this lovely one I endure with patience; by sheer sincerity I keep my form alive. Let the astrologer calculate the sorrow of half a year—it would weigh as much as a peace cart for ten years and more.
[Enter Hongniang, speaking:] Sister, I’ll go in first; you stay here. [Hongniang knocks at the door. Male Lead asks:] Who is it? [Hongniang says:] Your mother from a former life. [Male Lead says:] Has the young lady come? [Hongniang says:] You take the quilt and pillow; the young lady is coming in. Zhang Sheng, how will you thank me? [Male Lead bows and says:] I am at a loss for words; this small token of gratitude—only Heaven can witness it! [Hongniang says:] Be gentle, don’t startle her. [Hongniang pushes the young lady through the door and says:] Sister, go in; I’ll wait outside. [Male Lead, seeing the young lady, kneels and says:] What virtue or talent do I, Zhang Sheng, possess, to dare trouble a divine maiden to descend? Is this waking or dreaming?
[To the Tune Cun Li Ya Gu:]
Suddenly I see her lovely form—where is my illness now? Already nine-tenths of my discomfort is cured. Before, I was rebuked; who’d have thought tonight would bring such bliss! That you, young lady, should take such trouble—unworthy Zhang Gong ought to kneel and bow. I lack Song Yu’s looks, Pan An’s grace, or Zijian’s talent. Sister, you only pity me, a stranger far from home.
[To the Tune Yuan He Ling:]
Her embroidered shoes barely half an inch, her willow waist exactly a handful; shy and bashful, she won’t lift her head, only pushes the mandarin-duck pillow toward me. Her cloud-like hair seems to drop the gold hairpin, and that tilted chignon is all the more becoming.
[To the Tune Shang Ma Jiao:]
I loosen the buttons, untie the silk sash; the scent of orchids and musk fills the quiet study. This tormenting creature only knows how to vex one—ha! Why won’t she turn her face?
[To the Tune Sheng Hu Lu:]
Here I hold soft jade and warm fragrance in my arms. Ah, Ruan Zhao has reached the Tiantai Mountains! Spring descends on the mortal world, flowers show their colors; gently I sway the willow waist, lightly part the flower’s heart; dew drips, the peony blooms.
[To the Tune Yao Pian:]
A touch alone sends tingles; fish and water harmonize; tender pistil and fragrant blossom let the butterfly freely sip. Half yielding, half resisting, both startled and loving, her crimson lips lightly press against fragrant cheeks.
[Male Lead kneels and says:] I thank the young lady for not scorning me; Zhang Gong is blessed to share the bed tonight. In days to come, I will repay you like a dog or horse. [Young Lady says:] I, a body worth a thousand gold, have cast it away. This form is entrusted to you; do not abandon me later, leaving me to lament like the White-Headed Song. [Male Lead says:] How dare I do that! [Male Lead looks at her handkerchief.]
[To the Tune Hou Ting Hua:]
Spring silk was pure white, but now red stains the tender color. [Young Lady says:] Shameful—what are you looking at? [Male Lead sings:] By lamplight I secretly gaze; pressed to my chest, I gently feel it. Truly blissful! My whole body relaxes—I don’t know from where the spring feeling comes. Incompetent scholar Zhang, lonely guest from the Western Luo—since meeting this beauty, I’ve been unable to let go of my heart. Sorrow from separation, lovesickness beyond relief. I thank the fragrant one for not blaming me.
[To the Tune Liu Ye Er:]
I treat you as my very heart and liver—though I’ve sullied the young lady’s purity. Forgetting food and sleep to ease my inner suffering—had I not truly endured, sincerely persevered, how could this bitter lovesickness yield sweet reward?
[To the Tune Qing Ge Er:]
We’ve achieved tonight’s bliss; my soul flies beyond the ninth heaven. Only now do I see you, this tender little mistress—my withered form, thin as a hemp stalk. Tonight’s harmony still makes me doubt and wonder. Dew drops on fragrant dust, wind stills on empty steps, moonlight shines on the study, clouds veil the balcony. I ask clearly: I only suspect it came in last night’s dream, sorrow and helplessness. [Young Lady says:] I must go back; I fear the mistress will wake and look for me. [Male Lead says:] I’ll see you out.
[To the Tune Ji Sheng Cao:]
How graceful, too enchanting: at first meeting she made me lovesick, a moment apart made me resentful, a brief sight made me adore. Tonight we meet within the green gauze curtain—when will I again untie the fragrant silk sash? [Hongniang says:] Come pay respects to your mother! Zhang Sheng, you’re happy! Sister, let’s go home. [Male Lead sings:]
[To the Tune Sha Wei:]
Spring feeling penetrates the soft breast, spring color spreads across the brows; mortal jade and silk are cheapened. Apricot face and peach cheeks, lit by moonlight, delicate and all the more rosy. Descending the fragrant steps, too lazy to tread the green moss—the moving part is her narrow phoenix-tipped shoes. Alas, this humble scholar has no talent; I thank the lovely one for her misplaced favor. If the young lady does not scorn me, this feeling will remain unchanging—you must find time to come early tomorrow night. [Exit.]