THE ERROR OF THE EMBROIDERED SLIPPER
The sun is in our eyes
And we think we are running out towards joy;
Our heart pulls us down
And we shall never know the way of the sky
Or the end of all things.
During the Hung-Chih period of our Dynasty there lived at Hang-chow a young man who was called Chang Loyalty. After his parents died, leaving him a great fortune, he no longer had anyone to guide him, and therefore, throwing away his books, he spent his time with gallants of the sort we name fou-lang-tzu, that is to say "floating-on-the-waves." They do not know how to profit by opportunity. So Chang no longer studied anything but various ball games, he abandoned himself to the pleasures of the theatre, and took his delight in those gardens where the breezes of love blow in the moonlight. In a word, he followed the changing flowers of illusion; and, as he was himself seductive, as impassioned as expert in pleasure, and rich and generous, he became the favorite of all the women of the town. One day, when spring had but just caused all the flowers to come out on the amiable banks of the Lake of the West, Chang invited a company of singing girls and idlers to spend the afternoon on the blue waters.
He put on a gauze bonnet with floating wings, after the fashion of the time. His great transparent silk robe was of purple and silver, over a second embroidered one of pure white. White gauze stockings and red slippers completed the elegance of his appearance.
He went out, walking unhurriedly, gently waving a fan decorated with paintings. Behind him walked his little slave, Clear-Lute, who carried over his shoulder a mantle in case the weather should freshen, and a long guitar with which to accompany the singing girls.
As they were approaching the gate of Ch'ien-t'ang, Chang looked up, for no particular reason. On the first story of a house a maiden held back her window curtain and looked at him. From her whole person emanated so troubling a charm that he stopped in his walk, and felt a tremor in his body. For a long time they remained gazing at each other, until she slowly broke into a smile, and he felt his soul fly from him.
At this moment the door of the house opened below, and a man came forth; so Chang hastened to resume his walk, and returned in a few moments. The curtain was drawn back over the window. He waited, but there was no sign. At length he drew away, turning his head, and walking as slowly as if he had already gone a hundred leagues on the mountains.
Yet eventually he passed the town gate and rejoined his friends on the boat, which was at once steered to the middle of the lake. The banks were smiling with peach blossom: the willow leaves were a mist of gold and green. Little boats, with brightly-dressed passengers, crossed and re-crossed like ants. In very truth:
Hills are heaped upon hills
And the pavilions on the pavilions.
The songs and dances are never ceasing
On the West Lake.
The warm breeze fans the drunkenness
Of the pleasure walkers.
Heaven is above,
But here we have Hang-chow and Su-chow Lakes.
But Chang carried the picture of that young girl in his soul, and had no heart for pleasure.
His companions offered him cups of wine, wondering at his melancholy; but he was far from them.
At twilight they returned, and Chang re-entered by the Ch'ien-t'ang gate, passing before the girl's house. The window was shut. He stopped, and forced a cough; but there was no sign. He went to the end of the street, and came back again, but all was silent. Therefore he had no choice but to go away.
He returned next morning, and stayed at a shop near by to learn what he could. He was told:
"They are people called P'an. Their only daughter is sixteen years of age, and is named Eternal Life. The father has some connection with a certain powerful family which affords him protection. He lives by swindling, and everyone fears him. He is a veritable skin-pinker and bravo."
This news made Chang a little thoughtful, but he walked on by the house nevertheless. The young girl was again at her window. They looked at each other; but there were people about, and he had to go away.
That evening, as soon as night fell, he went back. The moon was shining as brightly as the sun, and the street was empty. The youthful beauty leaned at her window, wrapped in thought and bathed in the white light. She smiled at him, and he drew from his sleeve his scarlet muslin handkerchief. He made the knot known as "union of hearts gives victory." Rolling it in a ball, he threw it, and she adroitly caught it in two hands. Then she stooped and took off one of her little embroidered slippers. She dropped it into Chang's waiting fingers. Enraptured with this gift, which was a pledge of love and faith, he carried it to his lips and said softly:
"Thank you; Thank you, with all my heart!"
In tones of maddening sweetness, she replied:
"Ten thousand happinesses!"
Just then a rough voice was heard within the house. She made another sign to him and closed the window. And he went home drunk through silent streets made silver by the moon. Once in his library, he examined the slipper. It was a golden lotus, so small and so light that a thousand thoughts troubled the lover. He said:
"I must find someone to arrange our meeting, or else die from an over-stressing of desire."
Early in the morning, he put some pieces of silver in his sleeve and hastened to a little wine booth, not far from the house of P'an. He knew that he would find an old woman there, whom he often met in pleasurable places. In fact, he saw her and called to her. She at once saluted him, saying:
"Aya! My uncle, what brings you?"
"I happened to be passing," he answered carelessly.
"But I should like you to walk a little way with me."
"In what can I serve you?" she hastened to ask.
Without speaking, he took her into a quiet little tavern. When they were seated, and the attendant had brought them fruit and dishes of food, he poured out a full cup of hot wine and offered it to her, saying:
"I have something to ask of you, ma-ma Lu. But I am afraid that you cannot accomplish it."
"Without boasting," she answered with a wide smile, "there are few enterprises, however difficult, in which I do not succeed. What is it you desire?"
"I want you to arrange a meeting for me with the daughter of P'an, who lives in the Street of the Ten Officials. Here are five ounces of silver to begin with. If you succeed, you shall have quite as much more."
"The small Eternal Life? The little witch! I thought her so demure! I should never have imagined she was a wild flower. But the matter is difficult. There are only the parents and the daughter in that house, and the father is dangerous. He keeps a damnably suspicious watch over his door. How could you get in? I dare not promise any success."
"You have just boasted that you always succeed. Here are two ounces more."
The old woman's eyes gleamed like fire at the sight of the snow-colored metal, and she said:
"I will take the risk. If all goes well, it will be your fortune. If not, I shall at least have done my best. But give me a proof, for otherwise she would not listen to me."
Not without regret, Chang took from his bosom the little slipper, and gave it to her, wrapped in his handkerchief. The old woman at once slipped it into her sleeve with the pieces of money. As she was leaving him, she said again:
"The affair is delicate. You must have patience and not hurry me. That would be dangerous."
"I only ask you to do your best. Come and tell me as soon as you have an answer."
Eternal Life was profoundly agitated. Since that moonlit night she had had no more taste for food, but had said:
"If I married him I would not have lived in vain. But I know neither his name nor where he lives. When I saw him beneath the moon, why had I not wings to fly to him? ... As it is, I had only this red handkerchief."
Yet she had to live and speak as usual. But as soon as she was alone she fell again into her musing.
Two days later, old Lu entered their house. The father had gone out. The visitor said to mother and daughter:
"I received certain artificial flowers yesterday, and have come to show them to you."
She took a bunch of a thousand shades out of her basket.
"Would you not say they were real?"
"When I was young," said the mother, "we only wore ordinary flowers, and did not dream of marvels like these."
"Yet these are only considered mediocre. But the price of the finest is so high."
"If we cannot buy them, we can at least admire them," the young girl answered dryly.
With gathering smiles, the old woman took from the basket a bunch which was indeed incomparable.
"And what is the price of that?" questioned the mother.
"How should I dare to fix a price? I leave it to you. But if you have a little tea, I would willingly drink of it."
"In the admiration caused by your flowers, we have forgotten our manners. Wait for one moment, while I fetch some boiling water."
As soon as the mother had left the room, the woman took a slight parcel from her sleeve.
"What have you there?" asked Eternal Life.
"Something important which you must not see."
"Oh, but I must see it then."
"I shall not give it to you," said the cunning old woman. "Aya! You have taken it from me by force!" she added, letting the parcel into the girl's hand.
Impatiently the child untied the handkerchief, and recognized her slipper. Her face flushed into scarlet, and she said with difficulty: "A single one of these objects is of no use, ma-ma. Why did you show it me?"
"I know a certain Lord who would give his life to have the pair. Will you not consent to help me?"
Trembling all over, Eternal Life said to her softly:
"Since you know all, tell me his name and where he lives."
"He is called Chang, and he owns a hundred myriads of ounces. He is very gentle; his love is as deep as the sea. He has lost his soul through thinking of you, and has bidden me arrange a means for his entry."
"How can it be done? My father is terrible. When I have blown out my lamp, he often comes to look into the rooms. What is your plan, ma-ma?"
The old woman thought for a minute, and then said:
"It is not very difficult. You must go to bed early and, as soon as your father has come up and gone down again, you must rise quietly and open the window. You must wait for a signal, and let down a long piece of cloth. He will climb up with the help of this rope, and, if he is careful to go away before the fifth watch, no one will surprise you."
"Admirable!" cried the delighted child. "When will he come?"
"It is too late to-day. But I will go to him to-morrow morning. Give me a pledge of re-assurance for him."
"Assuredly! Take the other slipper. He will give it back to me to-morrow."
The old woman hid it in her sleeve, for the mother came in by this time with the tea. Soon after, she took up her basket and went away, accompanied to the door by the two women.
She went straight to the house of Chang, but he was out. She offered her flowers to the women of the house, waiting for some part of the day in vain.
Next morning she went again to find the young man, but he had not returned. She went away thoughtful.
The truth is that Chang had remained three days in the house of a Flower-in-the-Mist. When he returned and heard of the old woman's two visits, he hastened to find her. She said to him:
"The pledge of love which you entrusted to me is in her hand. She bade me tell you that her father is dangerous, but that he is to be away for a long time shortly. She will inform us." On his return journey the young man passed by P'an's house. Eternal Life was at her window, and they smiled tenderly at one another.
Three months had passed. Chang was sitting one morning in his library, when his servants told him that four police officers had come with a summons. He asked himself fearfully whether he had been mixed up in any scandal at a pleasure house; but he had to obey. He questioned the officers.
"It is a matter of taxes and duties," they answered.
Reassured, he changed his clothes and went with them, followed by several of his servants. He was taken at once to the hall where the Court sat, and, standing before the red table, he saluted the magistrate. The latter looked at him intently, and harshly asked:
"How did you enter into an intrigue with P'an's daughter? How did you kill her father and her mother?"
Chang was a libertine. That is to say he had neither strength nor energy. Hearing himself thus unexpectedly accused of a double crime, he shook from head to foot, as if a bolt had fallen on him from a calm sky. He stammered:
"Although I had the intention of establishing a connection with her, I have not yet succeeded in doing so. As yet I have not known her house."
The Governor thundered:
"She has just confessed that her relation with you has lasted several months. How dare you deny it?"
Just then Chang perceived that the young girl was kneeling close to him. Bewildered and not knowing what to do, he turned to Eternal Life and asked:
"How can you say that I have been intimate with you? With what object are you trying to encompass my ruin?"
She sobbed without answering. Meanwhile the Governor called upon the officers to apply the buskin of torture to the young man. And they swarmed about him like ants.
Unhappily for him, Chang Loyalty had been brought up in muslin and gauze, and had grown to manhood in a brocade. How could he endure such torture? Hardly had he felt the pressure of the buskin before he cried:
"I confess everything!"
The Governor had a brush and paper given to the accused, that he might himself write out his confession. The unhappy man wept, saying:
"What must I write? I know nothing of the matter!" Then he turned to the young girl and added: "Do you at least tell me what you have done, so that I may write my confession."
Eternal Life answered in irritation: "Did you not look at me with lecherous eyes under my window? Did you not throw your handkerchief? Did you not match the pair of my embroidered slippers?"
"All that is true. But about the rest?"
The Governor here interrupted:
"If one thing is true, the rest is also. What is the use of arguing it? Since he refuses to write, let him be given thirty strokes of the heavy bamboo, let him be cast into the cell for those who are condemned to death."
Happily for Chang, his gaolers knew that he was very rich. They but touched him with their blows, and led him to prison with as much care as they would a butterfly. Each of them cried:
"Uncle, how could you do such a thing?"
"O my elder brothers," he lamented, "if it is true that I desired this girl, yet have I never met her. Do you believe that I could be a murderer? I know nothing about the murder. Tell me of it."
So he learned that, this very morning, Eternal Life on waking up had been surprised by the silence of the house. From the ground-floor room where she had passed the night, she had gone up to the story where her parents slept, and had opened the door of their room. In front of the bed, under the half-drawn curtains, the floor was a tarn of blood.
She was so frightened that she tumbled down the stairs and fell upon the street door, sobbing and crying out. Neighbors heard her and ran up, and she said to them:
"Yesterday, my parents went up to their room. I do not know who has killed them both."
The bolder ones went up the stairs to see. They opened the bed-curtains, and there were the man and his wife, stiff and with their throats cut across. They looked to right and left. The window was shut, and nothing was disturbed.
"It is a serious matter," they muttered. "Let us not act hastily."
One of them went at once to warn the district chief of police, who came and examined the scene of the crime. He shut and sealed the house, and led Eternal Life to the Governor's Court. The girl knelt down and told all that she knew, and the Governor said:
"If the door and windows were closed, and nothing has been stolen, the matter is dubious. Had your father an enemy?"
"Not to my knowledge."
"That is strange!" murmured the Governor, and thought for a moment.
Suddenly he told the officers to take off the silken veil with which the young girl had half-covered her head. He could then see her exceptional beauty.
"How old are you? Are you not betrothed?"
"I am seventeen, and I am still free."
"And you sleep on the ground-floor, while your parents have their room above? That is very curious."
"Until quite recently your slave slept above. But fifteen days ago they made a change. I do not know why."
The judge again reflected. Then he struck the table violently, crying out:
"It is you who have killed your father and mother. Or, rather, it is your lover. Tell me his name."
"Your slave never leaves the house. How could she have a forbidden love? Would not the neighbors know it?"
The judge made a salacious grimace:
"In a case of murder the neighbors know nothing. It is clear that you have had relations with a man. Your parents knew of it, and that is why they changed their room. Your lover killed them in a rage."
Hearing these words, she became scarlet and then pale. At a sign from the Governor, the gaolers threw themselves like tigers upon the little girl, closing a cruel pair of iron nippers on her pellucid and delicate jade hand. As the jaws began to crush her fingers, she uttered loud cries:
"Mercy, my lord. I have a lover."
"What is his name?"
"Chang Loyalty."
And then she fainted. The Governor knew enough. He summoned the young man and, being convinced of his guilt, had him put in prison, while awaiting further information. It is well said in a certain proverb: "Even while you are sitting in your house with the doors shut, misfortune falls from heaven."
In prison, Chang reflected upon this sudden accusation. Could he have committed this double crime in his sleep? In the end he offered his gaolers ten ounces if they would take him to Eternal Life. When they bargained, he promised twenty ounces. Then they led him as far as the grill of the women's prison. The girl was there, weeping without stint. As soon as she saw him, she reviled him between her sobs:
"Ungrateful and dishonorable! You made me mad with love for you. Why should you cut my parents' throats, and cause my death?"
"Do not make unnecessary noise," he interrupted.
"Let us rather try to clear up this mystery. It is certain that I sent the old woman Lu to you with your little slipper. Did you see her?"
"Naturally, wretch," she answered disdainfully.
Again he interrupted:
"She told me that you had kept your pledge, that your father was terrible, and that you were awaiting his departure in order to arrange a meeting. But since then I have known nothing of you, save a few rare smiles."
"Forgetful murderer," she groaned, "again you deny it. Did you not confess all before the judge? Why do you come to torment me."
"My unfortunate body could not endure the torture. By confessing I gained some days of life. Do not fly into a rage, but answer me: what happened after ma-ma Lu had visited you?"
"We arranged everything for the next night. You came and gave me back my slipper. Since then you have climbed up to my room each night. Dare you say it is not true?"
Chang thought deeply. The bystanders wondered whether he were guilty and seeking a clever explanation to save himself, or whether he were really innocent. At last he said: "Then if we have met often, you should be very certain of my voice and body. Look at me well, and think."
The gaolers exclaimed:
"What he says is just. If there were a mistake, would you leave him to die?"
Eternal Life was puzzled, and looked at him earnestly. He repeated:
"Is it I? Dear heart, speak quickly!"
"He who came," she said at last, "was perhaps bigger. But it was always dark, and how can I be sure? But I remember that on your left shoulder you have a scar as big as a copper piece."
The bystanders at once exclaimed:
"That is easy to verify. There can be no further mistake. Uncle, unclothe yourself quickly. If there is nothing there, we shall inform the Governor."
Chang immediately uncovered his shoulder, and the white flesh was as smooth as marble. Eternal Life could not believe her eyes. When the young man had gone back, filled full of hope, to his prison, the gaolers made their report to the Governor, who had already summoned ma-ma Lu.
In the audience chamber the old woman knelt down and was quite overcome. The judge began by ordering her forty strokes for having acted as an abettor of corruption. The flesh of her thighs was nothing but a bloody paste. She told the whole story.
After coming back from Chang's house without having seen him, old Lu had found her son Wu-han in their little food shop. He had said to her:
"You come at the right time. I must kill a pig this morning, and our assistant has gone out for the day."
The old woman did not like this work. But she was very much afraid of her son, and did not dare to refuse.
"Wait till I have changed my clothes!" was all she said.
While she was taking off her outer garment, a parcel fell from the sleeve of it. Thinking that it was money, Wu-han quickly picked it up and opened it. It was the pair of embroidered slippers. He said:
"Oh! Oh! Who is the little girl who has such feet? She must be of a very loving nature. If I could hold her to my heart for a whole night, I should not have lived in vain. But how do these slippers come here, for they have already been worn?"
"Give them back to me!" she cried. "There is much money in them, which I will hand to you." And she told him the whole matter. But he objected:
"It has been a common saying from the earliest times that acts not committed can alone remain unknown. This P'an is a bravo. If he learns of the matter, all the silver which you receive will be too little to buy his silence. Our whole shop would fall into his hands."
In dismay the old woman replied:
"Your words are full of reason. I am going to give back the silver and the slippers. I am going to let it be understood that I refuse to embroil myself with curtain affairs."
"Where is the silver?" he asked.
The old woman took it from her sleeve, and he put it into his, saying:
"Leave all to me. If they should happen to come and seek a quarrel with us, we shall have proofs against them. And, if nothing comes of it, no one will dare to reclaim the money."
"But what shall I say if he asks me for news?"
"That you have not had time enough. Or even that the matter cannot be arranged."
What could she do, she who was thus deprived of the money and the pledge of love? She was surely obliged to lie.
As for Wu-han, he at once went out and spent the money on rich clothes and a fine gauze bonnet.
In the evening, when his mother was asleep, he put on his pretty clothes and set the slippers in his sleeve. As the great clock sounded the first watch, he went out softly and made straight for the house of P'an. Light clouds were hiding the moon. It was only half full.
He coughed before the house. The window opened, and Eternal Life appeared. She tied a piece of silk to the frame, and let the other end fall. He caught it and climbed up, making use of the projections of the wall with his two feet. Then, with a thousand precautions, he stepped over the sill. Trembling, the girl hastened to draw back the piece of silk and to shut the window.
Then he took the child in his arms, and passion leaped up in their two hearts. In the darkness, and in such emotion, how could that mistake be known? The usurper drew her towards him.
Even so is the precious scented flower of the nutmeg embraced by the bind-weed. Even so is the plum blossom torn by the hail. Even so is the sparrow's nest most outraged by the cuckoo.
When the first clouds of their desire were dissipated by the rain of caresses, Wu-han took from his sleeve the pledges of love. She gave them back to him:
"Now that I am happy, I no more wish to go out."
About the fourth watch, before daylight, Wu-han arose and climbed stealthily down to the street.
Since that time there had to be a storm of rain, or the moon had to be very clear, to prevent Wu-han from hurrying to the small woman. The days, and then the months, passed in this way.
One night the deceiver accidentally made some noise as he went away. P'an immediately came up to them, but saw nothing; for Eternal Life succeeded in not betraying herself. Next night she warned her lover, saying to him in her sense:
"Do not come for a few days. That will be safer. Let us give them time to forget about it."
But her father had his ears on the alert; he heard the window creak, and he ran up, though again too late. In the morning he said to his wife:
"This baby is certainly about some villainy. She keeps her mouth as tight as a trap."
"I also have a suspicion," replied her mother.
"Yet the room opens on to the stairs, which come down into our room."
"I am going to give her a good taste of the rod to make her speak."
"That is a bad plan, a very bad plan," said her mother. "It is a true proverb that you must not show family blemishes. If you beat her, all the neighbors will know, and who would wish to marry her? Let us rather make her sleep in our room, which has no way out except the door. We will spend the night up the stairs, and see what happens."
On being told of this proposal, Eternal Life dared not say anything. And on the higher floor husband and wife slept in peace.
One evening Wu-ban felt his heart seething with passion. Fearing that he might be attacked by P'an, he armed himself with a knife, which he used to cut pigs' throats. Under Eternal Life's window, he coughed softly. Nothing stirred. He coughed more loudly, thinking she was asleep. But everything remained quiet. He was going back to his house, in a thoughtful mood, when he saw a ladder left near to a house which was being built. He seized upon it, carried it away, and put it up against Eternal Life's window. The catch was not locked. He pushed it open, climbed over the sill, and silently went toward the bed.
Drunken with joy, Wu-ban was already disrobing himself of his clothes, when, in the stillness of the night, his ears caught the sound of two people breathing, instead of one. He listened with controlled breath. Unmistakably the rough breathing of a man was mingled with the softer murmur of a woman.
He was suddenly blinded with violent anger:
"This is why she did not answer my signal. The vile child has another man within. It was to get rid of me that she told me of her father's suspicion!"
In his jealous madness he drew his knife and gently felt for the man's throat. With a clean blow he drove the weapon into the flesh, and before the woman could move, he cut her throat also, almost beheading her.
He wiped the knife and his hands on the blanket, opened the window, and descended. He had closed the catches. Once outside, he ran to replace the ladder, and went back to his house. Denounced by his mother and brought before the Court, Wu-ban tried to deny the accusation. But the officers, on uncovering his shoulder, brought a scar to view. Eternal Life recognized his voice and his body. The first tortures overcame his obstinacy, and he confessed all.
The murderer was condemned to slow death.
Eternal Life was strangled, as was old Lu.
Chang, whose lecherous intentions had been the cause of all, was sentenced to a heavy fine. In dismay, and half ruined, he no more left his study chamber. Not long afterwards, he was carried off by a lassitude and a languor.
Lu Wu-han yin liu ho chin hsieh (Lu Wi-han keeps
an Embroidered Slipper to his scathe) Hsing
Shih heng yen (1627), 16th Tale.