“O my mother!” exclaimed she; “beloved, but too ambitious mother! but for one little hour to lay this head upon your bosom! Fatal hath been the dream you rejoiced in at my nativity—in which the moon shone out so brilliantly, and then descended into the earth at your feet. I have shone but a little, little time, and now am I buried, as it were, in the earth, at my joyous age. Immured in this solitary tower, my hopes destroyed—my portrait cannot have been seen—and now I am lost for ever. Thou lute, sole companion of my woes, let us join our voices of complaint. Let us fancy that the flowers are listening to our grief, and that the dews upon the half-closed petals are tears of pity for my misfortunes.” And Chaoukeun struck her lute, and thus poured out her lament:—
“O tell me, thou all-glorious sun,
Were there no earth to drink thy light,
Would not, in vain, thy course be run,
Thy reign be o’er a realm of night?
“Thus charms were born to be enthroned
In hearts, and youth to be carest,
And beauty is not, if not own’d,
At least by one adoring breast.”
Ti-tum, tilly-lilly, ti-tum, ti.
The musical notes of the peerless Chaoukeun were not thrown away only upon flowers deaf and dumb, they vibrated in the ears of the magnificent Youantée, who had sat down on the back of an enormous metal dragon, which had been placed in the walk under the terrace. The emperor listened with surprise at her soliloquy, with admiration at her enchanting song. For some minutes he remained in a profound reverie, and then rising from the dragon, he walked towards the gate of the tower, and clapped his hands. The eunuch made his appearance. “Keeper of the Yellow Tower,” said the emperor, “but now I heard the sounds of a lute.”
“Even so, O Sustenance of the world,” responded the slave.
“Was it not rather an angel than a mortal, whose mellifluous notes accompanied the instrument?” said the magnificent Youantée.
“Certainly is she blessed beyond mortality, since her melody has found favour in the celestial ears,” replied the black keeper of the Yellow Tower.
“Go then, and quickly summon all our highest officers of state, to lay their robes upon the ground, that she may pass over them to our presence at the dragon below the terrace.”
The magnificent Youantée, brother of the sun and moon, returned to his former seat, filled with pleasing anticipations, while the eunuch hastened to obey the celestial commands. The mandarins of the first class hastened to obey the orders of Youantée; their furred and velvet cloaks, rich in gold and silver ornaments, were spread from the tower to the dragon at the terrace, forming a path rich and beautiful as the milky way in the heavens. The pearl beyond price, the peerless Chaoukeun, like the moon in her splendour, passed over it into the presence of the great Youantée.
“Immortal Fo,” exclaimed the emperor, as the attendants raised their lanterns, so as to throw light upon her countenance, “by what black mischance have such charms been hidden from our sight?”