Book Two: Cui Yingying Listens to the Zither by Night — Act I
Book Two: Cui Yingying Listens to the Zither by Night · Act One
(Monk Fajing enters.)
I am the monk Fajing, an old disciple of Abbot Fajie.
After Abbot Fajie went to the capital for the Buddhist rites, I have been left in charge of the temple.
Just now I received a letter from the abbot: he said that the rebel Sun Feihu, leading five thousand men, was on his way to rob the monks and plunder the temple.
I fear that the niece of the late chancellor, Cui Yingying, and her attendants are still here, so I must quickly inform their household to take precautions.
(Monk exits. Cui Yingying enters, with her maid Hongniang.)
Yingying sings:
[Shangdiao · Langli Laisha]
Lonely, the sandalwood door long left unlocked;
Silent and still, the scent of incense—where has the evening bloom gone?
But then a breeze stirs the bamboo, rustling through the painted eaves.
I’d thought the one I awaited had come;
Startled, I woke from a dream of love, a tender dream.
Yingying sings:
[Yao]
Now I must sit by the empty window,
Gazing toward the willow bank.
Weary of this spring light—
How can I, a girl in my chamber,
While away the endless hours of day?
My jade hairpin hangs untidily,
My silk skirt hangs loose from my waist.
I have no heart to step beyond the threshold.
Even the glistening dewdrops on the flower tips—
I fear to stain my skirt, so I let them lie.
(Old Madam Cui enters.)
My child, I have something to tell you.
That villain Sun Feihu, the rebel, is leading troops to rob this temple.
What are we to do?
Yingying sings:
[Zhuoma Ting]
All of a sudden, the sound of war drums startles the sky;
The clang of metal and the roar of fire shake the ground.
The bandits are fierce—
They would not spare the green moss on the temple steps.
Which of you can resist them?
The old abbot is gone, the temple is empty.
Where can we hide?
The temple is only a single courtyard;
Young and old, we are all helpless in the face of this.
Yingying sings:
[Yao]
I have heard that this Sun Feihu,
Has a heart of iron and a stomach of stone,
A man who cuts and kills without mercy.
He is the one who has broken through Puzhou City,
He is the one who robbed the official treasury.
The officials there,
Could not stop him for a moment.
Now he comes here to this temple.
Old Madam,
Do not delay—quickly decide our plan.
Old Madam:
My child, it is all your fault!
If I had not taken you out of the city to mourn your father,
How could such trouble have come?
Now that the rebels have surrounded us,
What can we do?
If we lose our lives,
All will be for nothing.
Yingying sings:
[Qiaopai’er]
You always say it is my fault,
That I alone have brought disaster.
But if you had let me marry Zhang Sheng,
Would all this trouble have come to nothing?
Old Madam:
My child, stop your silly chatter.
Now is not the time to speak of such things.
We must think of a way to save ourselves.
Yingying:
Mother, I have a plan.
If you will listen to me,
All may yet be well.
Old Madam:
What plan? Tell me quickly.
Yingying:
The bandits are here only because of me.
If you hand me over to Sun Feihu,
The temple will be saved, and everyone will be safe.
Old Madam:
What nonsense is this?
How could I ever do such a thing?
I would rather die with you than hand you over to the rebels!
Yingying:
Mother, if you will not hand me over, there is another plan.
Let us issue a proclamation to the whole temple:
If there is any man, monk or layman,
Who can drive away the bandits,
I will be given to him as his wife.
Old Madam (sighs):
My child, this is the only way.
But who would dare to face such a fierce army?
Yingying sings:
[Zheng Gong]
I know well that this is a dangerous path,
But of what use is it to be miserly with one’s life?
They are only five thousand bandits,
And there are many men in the temple.
If we do not act now,
We shall all die together.
Yingying sings:
[Tailing Ge]
I am not a coward,
But I am not brave enough to fight.
If we delay, we will lose the chance.
Mother,
Do not be stubborn—
Quickly announce this.
(The old madam agrees, and the announcement is made.)
【Sun Feihu enters and delivers opening lines】My surname is Sun, my given name Biao, and my style is Feihu. The realm is now in chaos. Because the chief general Ding Wenya governs without principle, I command five thousand troops, garrison the River Bridge, and plunder the people’s goods. Recently I learned that the late Chancellor Cui Jue’s daughter, Yingying, has brows as dark as distant mountains, a lotus-like face bearing spring’s color, with a beauty that topples cities and states, a charm matching Xi Shi and Yang Guifei. She is now lodging at Pujiu Temple in Hezhong Prefecture. I think to myself: This is a time for arms; the chief general is already corrupt, so what use is it for me alone to be upright? Officers and men, listen to my command: Soldiers, keep silent; horses, muffle your mouths; march by night to Hezhong Prefecture! To seize Yingying as my wife would fulfill my lifelong wish. 【Exits】【Faben enters hurriedly】Who would have thought that Sun Feihu, with half a myriad of rebel troops, has surrounded the temple gate, beating gongs and drums, shouting and waving flags, wanting to seize Miss Yingying as his wife. I dare not delay now; I’ll go report to the lady at once. 【Exits】【Lady enters flustered】What is to be done! Let us go together to the young lady’s chamber and discuss it. 【Exits】【Yingying enters with Hongniang】Ever since I saw that Zhang Sheng, my soul is in turmoil, my heart is uneasy, and I eat and drink less. Already weighed down by parting sorrows, and now it’s late spring weather—how vexing it is! Fine verses feel pity for the moonlit night; fallen petals silently blame the east wind. 【To the tune of Xianlü: Eight-Note Ganzhou】My spirit is weak, my body wasted; already wounded in spirit, I meet the waning spring. My silk robe hangs loose and slips off; how many twilights can I endure? The breeze gently stirs incense smoke from the burner; the curtain is not rolled up; rain pelts the pear blossoms, the door tightly shut. Silently I lean on the railing, gazing until the drifting clouds vanish. 【To the tune of Hunjiang Dragon】Falling petals form a battle array; the wind scatters myriad specks, truly stirring sorrow. The pond’s dream awakens; the railing bids spring farewell. Butterfly powder lightly clings to flying catkins like snow; the fragrance of swallow’s mud stirs up dust from fallen blossoms. The longing that ties my heart is shorter than willow twigs; the one beyond the flower’s shadow is farther than the horizon. Rouge and powder all fade away; my spirit too is diminished. 【Hongniang says】Sister, you are not feeling well. Let me scent the quilt with orchid fragrance, and you may sleep a while. 【Yingying sings】 【To the tune of Youhulu】The cold green quilt presses on the embroidered mattress; do not fumigate it with orchid or musk—even if you exhaust all such scents, it can only warm itself. Last night’s fine poem from the brocade pouch clearly enticed me; today the man of jade hall is hard to approach. These days, I cannot sit still nor sleep soundly; if I try to climb high, I feel unwell; if I idle about, I grow restless. Every day I am dazed with thought, wanting only to sleep. 【To the tune of Tianxiale】Hongniang, I can only doze, pillowed on the gauze kerchief. As soon as I step out of the inner chamber, you cling to me like my shadow. 【Hongniang says】It’s not Hongniang’s fault; it’s the old lady who ordered me to attend to you, sister. 【Yingying says】My mother is also quite tiresome! These days she guards me so closely; the little maid serves diligently, the old lady restrains tightly, all for fear that her daughter might lose her resolve. 【Hongniang says】Sister, you have never been so listless before; ever since you saw that Zhang Sheng, your heart has been unsettled. What is the matter? 【Yingying sings】 【To the tune of Nazhaling】In the past, if I saw a stranger, I’d at once become angry; if I saw a guest, I’d recoil in disgust. Since I saw that man, I’ve felt drawn to him at once. Thinking of his poem last night, matching the previous rhyme, the response was fresh and clear. 【To the tune of Que Tazhi】The lines he chanted were even; every word he recited was heartfelt. The new poem about the moon surpasses even the brocade palindrome. Who would be willing to thread the needle and pass the thread, sending tokens east to the neighbor? 【To the tune of Jishengcao】Thinking of that scholar of letters, that gentle man—his face is clear-cut, his form handsome, his nature mild and compliant—I cannot help but murmur his name and hold it in my heart. He has mastered the art of “stars sparkling in splendid essays”; it is not in vain that he “studied ten years beneath the window, unknown to all.” 【Feihu leads troops in, surrounds the temple】【Exits】【Troops shout from within】Listen, you in the temple! You have three days to deliver Yingying to our general for marriage; then all will be well. If she is not sent out after three days, the temple will be burned to the ground, monks and laymen alike will be beheaded, not one left alive. 【Lady and Faben knock at the door together】【Hongniang looks and says】Sister, the lady and the abbot are at the door. 【Yingying sees them】【Lady says】Child, do you know? Now Sun Feihu, with half a myriad of rebel troops, has surrounded the temple gate, saying that you have “brows as dark as distant mountains, a lotus-like face bearing spring’s color, like the toppling beauty Yang Guifei,” and he wants to seize you as his wife for the mountain stronghold. Child, what is to be done? 【Yingying sings】 【To the tune of Liuxu Xu】Hearing this, my soul scatters and my spirit flies; before my eyes is the disaster of death; the sleeve’s hem cannot wipe away the tear stains. Truly, I have no cause to stay or leave, no way forward or back; in such straits, would one cling to kin in desperation? The orphaned mother and child have nowhere to turn; it is a pity that the blessed one died first. In my ears, the war drums shake the heavens; the campaign clouds roll thick; the dust of battle falls like rain. 【To the tune of Yao Pian】Those fellows speak from hearsay, spouting nonsense. They say I have “brows as dark as distant mountains, a lotus-like face bearing spring’s color, exactly like the toppling beauty Yang Guifei.” Is this not to deliver those three hundred monks to death? Half a myriad of rebel troops could uproot the grass and roots in half a moment? These men show no loyalty to state or family, recklessly plundering the people. They would burn down this temple built like a heavenly palace; even without Zhuge Liang, they would learn from the burning of Bowang Slope. 【Lady says】I am sixty years old, not a short life; but you, child, are young and not yet married. What is to be done? 【Yingying says】Your child has a plan: I think only that I should marry that rebel, and perhaps the family’s lives may be spared. 【Lady weeps】My family has had no man who broke the law, no woman who remarried; how can I bear to give you to that rebel? Would that not disgrace the family line! 【Faben says】Let us go together to the Dharma hall and the two side corridors, and ask among the monks and laymen if anyone has a wise plan; let us all discuss a lasting solution. 【They go to the Dharma hall together】【Lady says】Young lady, what should be done? 【Yingying says】Better to hand me over to the rebels; there are five benefits. 【To the tune of Houtinghua】First, it spares the old lady from harm; second, it saves the hall from turning to ashes; third, the many monks will be left in peace; fourth, my late father’s coffin will rest undisturbed; fifth, though Huanlang is not yet grown, 【Huanlang says】What does it matter about me? 【Yingying sings】He is, after all, a descendant of the Cui family. Yingying, if she cherishes her own life and does not submit to the rebel force, will cause the monks to bleed and be wounded, the temple to be burned by fire, her ancestors’ spirits to turn to dust, sever the love for her young brother, and cut off her mother’s kindness. 【To the tune of Liuye’er】Ah, if not a single child of my family is left, and I submit to the rebels, I fear disgracing the family. Better I take a white silk cord, hang myself, and give my corpse to the rebels; then I may still keep harm far from the rest. 【To the tune of Qingge’er】Mother, it will all be Yingying’s unfilial act, beyond words to others. Mother, do not spare this body of Yingying. Your child has another plan: whoever it may be, if he establishes merit, drives back the rebel troops, sweeps away the evil aura, I am willing to offer the family wealth as a dowry and marry that hero, forming a bond as close as Qin and Jin. 【Lady says】This plan is acceptable. Though it may not be a match of equal status, it is still better than falling into the hands of the rebels. Abbot, call out loudly in the Dharma hall: “To all monks and laymen in the two corridors: whoever has a plan to drive back the rebels shall receive a dowry and be given Yingying as his wife.” 【Faben calls out, then pauses】【Zhang Sheng enters, clapping his hands】I have a plan to drive back the rebels; why do you not ask me? 【He sees the Lady】【Faben says】This scholar is the one who attended the memorial service the other day. 【Lady says】Where is the plan? 【Zhang Sheng says】“With heavy reward, there will surely be brave men; if rewards and punishments are clear, the plan will surely succeed.” 【Yingying turns aside and says】I only hope this scholar can drive back the rebels. 【Lady says】I have just told the abbot that whoever can drive back the rebels shall have my daughter as his wife. 【Zhang Sheng says】If that is so, do not frighten my wife; please go into your chamber, and I will have my plan for driving back the rebels. 【Lady says】Young lady and Hongniang, go back! 【Yingying says to Hongniang】How rare this scholar’s good heart! 【To the tune of Zhuansha】The monks all flee for their lives; who cares about the family dependents? This stranger, though unknown, shows exceptional concern. It is not that the scholar is overly talkative; he too guards against the common destruction. Though we are not kin, I pity him, his life hanging by a thread; whether it succeeds or fails, for now he does his utmost as a scholar. If indeed he has essays like the “Memorial on Dispatching the Troops” and letters that frighten the barbarians, Zhang Sheng, I only hope your brush sweeps away five thousand men.