There is an amusing sequel to this poem, in which Chuang is exhibited putting his wife to the test. Being a magician, endowed with miraculous power, he pretends to die; and while his body is in its coffin awaiting burial, he assumes the form of a handsome young man, and pays to his mourning wife ardent court.
"In short, they made love, and the next day were wed;
She cheerfully changing her white clothes to red.[31]
Excited by drink, they were going to bed,
When Chuang clapped his hand to his brow—
He groaned. She exclaimed, 'What! are you dying too?
One husband I've lost, and got married to you;
Now you are took bad. Oh, what shall I do?
Can I help you? If so, tell me how.'
"'Alas!' groaned the husband, 'I'm sadly afraid
The disease that I have is beyond human aid.
Oh! the sums upon sums I the doctors have paid!
There a remedy is, to be sure:
It is this: take the brains from a living man's head—
If not to be had, get, and mash up instead
Those of one who no more than three days has been dead.
'Twill effect an infallible cure!'"
The distracted widow did not hesitate. There was the coffin of her lamented husband before her, and he had not yet been dead three days:
"She grasped the chopper savagely, her brows she firmly knit,
And battered at the coffin until the lid was split.
But, oh! what mortal pen could paint her horror and her dread?
A voice within exclaimed, 'Hollo!' and Chuang popped up his head!
"'Hollo!' again repeated he, as he sat bolt-upright:
'What made you smash my coffin in?—I see, besides, you're tight!
You've dressed yourself in red, too! What means this mummery?
Let me have the full particulars, and don't try on flummery.'
"She had all her wits about her, though she quaked a bit with fear.
Said she (the artful wretch!), 'It seems miraculous, my dear!
Some unseen power impelled me to break the coffin-lid,
To see if you were still alive—which, of course, you know I did!
"'I felt sure you must be living; so, to welcome you once more,
My mourning robes I tore off, and my wedding garments wore;
But, were you dead, to guard against all noxious fumes, I quaffed,
As a measure of precaution, a disinfecting draught!'
"Said Chuang, 'Your tale is plausible, but I think you'd better stop;
Don't fatigue yourself by telling lies; just let the matter drop.
To test your faithfulness to me, I've been merely shamming dead,
I'm the youth you just now married—my widow I've just wed!'"
Appended to these two poems, there is the regulation moral, in which married ladies are warned not to be too sure of their constancy, nor judge severely the poor widows who make haste to console themselves.