Here the pacha looked at Mustapha and nodded his head in approbation, as much as to say, “Now we are coming to the point.” Mustapha bowed, and the Chinese poet continued.
The golden eyes of the great Youantée were filled with silver tears when the page of destiny was made known; but the sun of hope rose and bore away the sacred dew to heaven. Then called he the minister, ever to be disgraced in story, Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow, and the emperor desired him to make a progress through the universe, his dominions, to find out the most beautiful maidens to be brought to the celestial feet at the coming feast of Lanterns. But before they could be permitted to shoot up the rays of love through the mist of glory which surrounded the imperial throne—before their charms were to make the attempt upon the heart of magnanimity, it was necessary that all their portraits should be submitted to the great Youantée, in the hail of delight. That is to say, out of the twenty thousand virgins whose images were to be impressed upon the ivory, one hundred only, selected by a committee of taste, composed of the first class mandarins and princes, were to be honoured with the beam of the celestial eye.
The avaricious, gold-seeking, Suchong Pollyhong Kate-tow, had performed his task—wealth poured into his coffers from the ambitious parents, who longed to boast of an alliance with the brother of the sun and moon, and many were the ill-favoured whose portraits were dismissed by the committee of taste, with surprise at the minister’s ideas of beauty.
Now there was a certain mandarin, whose daughter had long been extolled through the province of Kartou as a miracle of beauty, and her father, Whanghang, brought her in a litter to the minister Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow. He felt that her charms were piercing as an arrow and that he had found a fit mate for the brother of the sun and moon; but his avarice demanded a sum which the father would not pay. Refuse to send her portrait he dare not, it was therefore ordered to be taken as well as the others, and Whanghang considered himself as the father-in-law of the celestial Youantée. The young painter who was employed finished his task, then laid down his pencil, and died with grief and love of such perfection which he never could hope to obtain. The picture was sent to the vile minister, who reserved it for himself, and wrote the name of this pearl beyond price under that of another, unworthy to unloose her zone as her handmaiden. The committee of taste did, however, select that picture among the hundred to be placed in the hall of delight, not because the picture was beautiful, but because the fame of her beauty had reached the court, and they thought it right that the emperor should see the picture. The virgins, whose pictures were thus selected, were all ordered to repair to the imperial palace, and the magnificent Youantée entered the hall of delight, which was illumined with ten thousand lanterns, and cast his eyes over the portraits of the hundred beauties, but not one feature touched his heart, he turned away in disgust at the degenerate countenances of the age. “Is this all,” exclaimed he, “that the world can lay at the feet of its lord?” And the committee of taste prostrated themselves when they beheld his indignation. “And this,” exclaimed he, pointing to the supposed portrait of the daughter of Whanghang; “who is this presumptuous one who hath dared to disgrace with her features the hall of delight?”
“That, O emperor,” said the wily Suchong Pollyhong Ka-te-tow, “is the far-famed beauty Chaoukeun, whose insolent father dared to say, that if it was not sent, he would lay his complaint at the celestial feet. In her province the fame of her beauty was great, and I did not like to be accused of partiality, so it has been placed before the imperial eye.”
“First, then,” exclaimed the emperor, “let it be proclaimed, that the whole province of Kartou is peopled by fools, and levy upon it a fine of one hundred thousand ounces of gold, for its want of taste; and next, let this vain one be committed to perpetual seclusion in the eastern tower of the imperial palace. Let the other maidens be sent to their parents, for as yet there is not found a fit bride for the brother of the sun and moon.”
The imperial mandates were obeyed; and thus was the first part of the prophecy fulfilled, that “the pearl beyond price would be found and lost.”
Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
Yes, she was lost, for the resplendent Chaoukeun was shut up to waste away her peerless beauty in sorrow and in solitude. One small terrace walk was the only spot permitted her on which to enjoy the breezes of heaven. Night was looking down in loveliness, with her countless eyes, upon the injustice and cruelty of men, when the magnificent Youantée, who had little imagined that the brother of the sun and moon would be doomed to swallow the bitter pillau of disappointment, as had been latterly his custom, quitted the palace to walk in the gardens and commune with his own thoughts, unattended. And it pleased destiny, that the pearl beyond price, the neglected Chaoukeun also was induced, by the beauty and stillness of the night, to press the shell sand which covered the terrace walk, with her diminutive feet, so diminutive, that she almost tottered in her gait. The tear trembled in her eye as she thought of her own happy home, and bitterly did she bewail that beauty, which, instead of raising her to a throne, had by malice and avarice condemned her to perpetual solitude. She looked upwards at the starry heaven, but felt no communion with its loveliness. She surveyed the garden of sweets from the terrace, but all appeared to be desolate. Of late, her only companions had been her tears and her lute, whose notes were as plaintive as her own.