"If you still go on babbling," put in the company with one consent, "you'll be fined ten cups."
Hsüeh P'an promptly administered himself a slap on the mouth. "How you lack the faculty of hearing!" he exclaimed. "You are not to say a word more!"
"A girl is glad,"
Yün Erh then resumed:
When her lover cannot brook to leave her and return home.
A maiden is joyful,
When hushing the pan-pipe and double pipe, a stringed instrument she
thrums.
At the end of her effusion, she at once began to sing:
"T'is the third day of the third moon, the nutmegs bloom;
A maggot, lo, works hard to pierce into a flower;
But though it ceaseless bores it cannot penetrate.
So crouching on the buds, it swing-like rocks itself.
My precious pet, my own dear little darling,
If I don't choose to open how can you steal in?"
Finishing her song, she drank the "opening cup," after which she added: "the delicate peach-blossom," and thus complied with the exigencies of the rule.
Next came Hsüeh P'an. "Is it for me to speak now?" Hsüeh P'an asked.
"A maiden is sad…"