第一回

第一回 甄士隐梦幻识通灵 贾雨村风尘怀闺秀

此开卷第一回也。作者自云：因曾历过一番梦幻之后，故将真事隐去，而借“通灵”之说，撰此《石头记》一书也。故曰“甄士隐”云云。但书中所记何事何人？自又云：“今风尘碌碌，一事无成，忽念及当日所有之女子，一一细考较去，觉其行止见识，皆出于我之上。何我堂堂须眉[1]，诚不若彼裙钗[2]哉？实愧则有馀，悔又无益之大无可如何之日也！当此，则自欲将已往所赖天恩祖德，锦衣纨[3]之时，饫甘餍肥[4]之日，背父兄教育之恩，负师友规训之德，以至今日一技无成、半生潦倒之罪，编述一集，以告天下人：我之罪固不免，然闺阁中本自历历有人，万不可因我之不肖，自护己短，一并使其泯灭也。虽今日之茅椽蓬牖[5]，瓦灶绳床[6]，其晨夕风露，阶柳庭花，亦未有妨我之襟怀笔墨者。虽我未学，下笔无文，又何妨用假语村言，敷演[7]出一段故事来，亦可使闺阁昭传，复可悦世之目，破人愁闷，不亦宜乎？”故曰“贾雨村”云云。

此回中凡用“梦”用“幻”等字，是提醒阅者眼目，亦是此书立意本旨。〔一〕

列位看官：你道此书从何而来？说起根由虽近荒唐，细按则深有趣味。待在下将此来历注明，方使阅者了然不惑。

原来女娲氏炼石补天[9]之时，于大荒山无稽崖[10]炼成高经十二丈、方经二十四丈顽石三万六千五百零一块。娲皇氏只用了三万六千五百块，只单单剩了一块未用，便弃在此山青埂峰下。谁知此石自经煅炼之后，灵性已通，因见众石俱得补天，独自己无材不堪入选，遂自怨自叹，日夜悲号惭愧。

一日，正当嗟悼之际，俄见一僧一道远远而来，生得骨格不凡，丰神迥异，说说笑笑来至峰下，坐于石边高谈快论。先是说些云山雾海神仙玄幻之事，后便说到红尘中荣华富贵。此石听了，不觉打动凡心，也想要到人间去享一享这荣华富贵；但自恨粗蠢，不得已，便口吐人言，向那僧道说道：“大师，弟子蠢物，不能见礼了。适闻二位谈那人世间荣耀繁华，心切慕之。弟子质虽粗蠢，性却稍通；况见二师仙形道体，定非凡品，必有补天济世之材，利物济人之德。如蒙发一点慈心，携带弟子得入红尘，在那富贵场中、温柔乡里受享几年，自当永佩洪恩，万劫不忘也。”二仙师听毕，齐憨笑道：“善哉，善哉！那红尘中有却有些乐事，但不能永远依恃；况又有‘美中不足，好事多魔’八个字紧相连属，瞬息间则又乐极悲生，人非物换，究竟是到头一梦，万境归空，倒不如不去的好。”

这石凡心已炽，那里听得进这话去，乃复苦求再四。二仙知不可强制，乃叹道：“此亦静极思动，无中生有之数也。既如此，我们便携你去受享受享，只是到不得意时，切莫后悔。”石道：“自然，自然。”那僧又道：“若说你性灵，却又如此质蠢，并更无奇贵之处。如此也只好踮脚[11]而已。也罢，我如今大施佛法助你助，待劫终之日，复还本质，以了此案。你道好否？”石头听了，感谢不尽。那僧便念咒书符，大展幻术，将一块大石登时变成〔二〕一块鲜明莹洁的美玉，且又缩成扇坠[13]大小的可佩可拿。那僧托于掌上，笑道：“形体倒也是个宝物了！还只没有实在的好处，须得再镌上数字，使人一见便知是奇物方妙。然后携你到那昌明隆盛之邦，诗礼簪缨之族[14]，花柳繁华地，温柔富贵乡去安身乐业。”石头听了，喜不能禁，乃问：“不知赐了弟子那几件奇处，又不知携了弟子到何地方？望乞明示，使弟子不惑。”那僧笑道：“你且莫问，日后自然明白的。”说着，便袖了这石，同那道人飘然而去，竟不知投奔何方何舍。

后来，又不知过了几世几劫[15]，因有个空空道人访道求仙，忽从这大荒山无稽崖青埂峰下经过，忽见一大块石上字迹分明，编述历历。空空道人乃从头一看，原来就是无材补天，幻形入世，蒙茫茫大士、渺渺真人携入红尘，历尽离合悲欢炎凉世态的一段故事。后面又有一首偈[16]云：

无材可去补苍天，枉入红尘若许年。

此系身前身后事，倩谁[17]记去作奇传？

诗后便是此石坠落之乡，投胎之处，亲自经历的一段陈迹故事。其中家庭闺阁琐事，以及闲情诗词倒还全备，或可适趣解闷；然朝代年纪，地舆邦国却反失落无考。

空空道人遂向石头说道：“石兄，你这一段故事，据你自己说有些趣味，故编写在此，意欲问世传奇。据我看来，第一件，无朝代年纪可考；第二件，并无大贤大忠理朝廷治风俗的善政，其中只不过几个异样女子，或情或痴，或小才微善，亦无班姑、蔡女之德能[18]。我纵抄去，恐世人不爱看呢。”石头笑答道：“我师何太痴耶！若云无朝代可考，今我师竟假借汉唐等年纪添缀，又有何难？但我想，历来野史[19]，皆蹈一辙，莫如我这不借此套者，反倒新奇别致，不过只取其事体情理罢了，又何必拘拘于朝代年纪哉！再者，市井俗人喜看理治之书[20]者甚少，爱适趣闲文者特多。历来野史，或讪谤君相，或贬人妻女，奸淫凶恶，不可胜数。更有一种风月笔墨[21]，其淫秽污臭，屠毒笔墨，坏人子弟，又不可胜数〔三〕。至若佳人才子等书，则又千部共出一套，且其中终不能不涉于淫滥，以致满纸潘安、子建、西子、文君[23]，不过作者要写出自己的那两首情诗艳赋来，故假拟出男女二人名姓，又必旁出一小人其间拨乱，亦如剧中之小丑然。且鬟婢开口即者也之乎，非文即理。故逐一看去，悉皆自相矛盾、大不近情理之话，竟不如我半世亲睹亲闻的这几个女子，虽不敢说强似前代书中所有之人，但事迹原委，亦可以消愁破闷；也有几首歪诗熟话，可以喷饭供酒。至若离合悲欢，兴衰际遇，则又追踪蹑迹，不敢稍加穿凿，徒为供人之目而反失其真传者。今之人，贫者日为衣食所累，富者又怀不足之心，纵一时稍闲，又有贪淫恋色、好货寻愁之事，那里去有工夫看那理治之书？所以我这一段故事，也不愿世人称奇道妙，也不定要世人喜悦检读，只愿他们当那醉淫饱卧〔四〕之时，或避事〔五〕去愁之际，把此一玩，岂不省了些寿命筋力？就比那谋虚逐妄，却也省了口舌是非之害，腿脚奔忙之苦。再者，亦令世人换新眼目，不比那些胡牵乱扯忽离忽遇，满纸才人淑女、子建文君红娘小玉[26]等通共熟套之旧稿。我师意为何如？”

空空道人听如此说，思忖半晌，将《石头记》再检阅一遍，因见上面虽有些指奸责佞贬恶诛邪之语，亦非伤时骂世之旨；及至君仁臣良父慈子孝，凡伦常[27]所关之处，皆是称功颂德，眷眷无穷，实非别书之可比。虽其中大旨谈情，亦不过实录其事，又非假拟妄称，一味淫邀艳约、私订偷盟之可比。因毫不干涉时世，方从头至尾抄录回来，问世传奇。从此空空道人〔六〕因空[29]见色，由色生情，传情入色，自色悟空，遂易名为情僧，改《石头记》为《情僧录》。东鲁孔梅溪则题曰《风月宝鉴》[30]。后因曹雪芹于悼红轩中披阅十载，增删五次，纂成目录，分出章回，则题曰《金陵十二钗》[31]。并题一绝云：

满纸荒唐言，一把辛酸泪。

都云作者痴，谁解其中味！

出则既明，且看石上是何故事。按那石上书云：

当日地陷东南[32]，这东南一隅有处曰姑苏，有城曰阊门[33]者，最是红尘中一二等富贵风流之地。这阊门外有个十里街，街内有个仁清巷[34]，巷内有个古庙，因地方窄狭，人皆呼作葫芦庙。庙旁住着一家乡宦，姓甄，名费，字士隐。嫡妻封氏，情性贤淑，深明礼义。家中虽不甚富贵，然本地便也推他为望族了。因这甄士隐禀性恬淡，不以功名为念，每日只以观花修竹、酌酒吟诗为乐，倒是神仙一流人品。只是一件不足：如今年已半百，膝下无儿，只有一女，乳名唤作英莲〔七〕，年方三岁。

一日，炎夏永昼，士隐于书房闲坐，至手倦抛书[36]，伏几少憩，不觉朦胧睡去。梦至一处，不辨是何地方。忽见那厢来了一僧一道，且行且谈。

只听道人问道：“你携了这蠢物，意欲何往？”那僧笑道：“你放心，如今现有一段风流公案正该了结，这一干风流冤家[37]，尚未投胎入世。趁此机会，就将此蠢物夹带于中，使他去经历经历。”那道人道：“原来近日风流冤孽又将造劫历世去不成？但不知落于何方何处？”那僧笑道：“此事说来好笑，竟是千古未闻的罕事。只因西方灵河岸上三生石[38]畔，有绛珠草一株，时有赤瑕宫神瑛侍者，日以甘露灌溉，这绛珠草始得久延岁月。后来既受天地精华，复得雨露滋养，遂得脱却草胎木质，得换人形，仅修成个女体，终日游于离恨天外，饥则食蜜青果为膳，渴则饮灌愁海[39]水为汤。只因尚未酬报灌溉之德，故其五内[40]便郁结着一段缠绵不尽之意。恰近日这神瑛侍者凡心偶炽，乘此昌明太平朝世，意欲下凡造历幻缘，已在警幻仙子案前挂了号。警幻亦曾问及，灌溉之情未偿，趁此倒可了结的。那绛珠仙子道：‘他是甘露之惠，我并无此水可还。他既下世为人，我也去下世为人，但把我一生所有的眼泪还他，也偿还得过他了。’因此一事，就勾出多少风流冤家来，陪他们去了结此案。”

那道人道：“果是罕闻。实未闻有还泪之说。想来这一段故事，比历来风月事故更加琐碎细腻了。”那僧道：“历来几个风流人物，不过传其大概以及诗词篇章而已；至家庭闺阁中一饮一食，总未述记。再者，大半风月故事，不过偷香窃玉、暗约私奔而已，并不曾将儿女之真情发泄一二。想这一干人入世，其情痴色鬼、贤愚不肖[41]者，悉与前人传述不同矣。”那道人道：“趁此何不你我也去下世度脱[42]几个，岂不是一场功德？”那僧道：“正合吾意。你且同我到警幻仙子宫中，将蠢物交割清楚，待这一干风流孽鬼下世已完，你我再去。如今虽已有一半落尘，然犹未全集。”道人道：“既如此，便随你去来。”

却说甄士隐俱听得明白，但不知所云“蠢物”系何东西。遂不禁上前施礼，笑问道：“二仙师请了。”那僧道也忙答礼相问。士隐因说道：“适闻仙师所谈因果，实人世罕闻者。但弟子愚浊，不能洞悉明白，若蒙大开痴顽，备细一闻，弟子则洗耳谛听，稍能警省，亦可免沉沦[43]之苦。”二仙笑道：“此乃玄机[44]不可预泄者。到那时不要忘我二人，便可跳出火坑[45]矣。”士隐听了，不便再问。因笑道：“玄机不可预泄，但适云‘蠢物’，不知为何，或可一见否？”那僧道：“若问此物，倒有一面之缘。”说着，取出递与士隐。

士隐接了看时，原来是块鲜明美玉，上面字迹分明，镌着“通灵宝玉”四字，后面还有几行小字。正欲细看时，那僧便说已到幻境，便强从手中夺了去，与道人竟过一大石牌坊，上书四个大字，乃是“太虚幻境”[46]。两边又有一副对联，道是：

假作真时真亦假，无为有处有还无〔八〕。

士隐意欲也跟了过去，方举步时，忽听一声霹雳，有若山崩地陷。士隐大叫一声，定睛一看，只见烈日炎炎，芭蕉冉冉，所梦之事便忘了大半。又见奶母正抱了英莲走来。士隐见女儿越发生得粉妆玉琢，乖觉可喜，便伸手接来，抱在怀内，逗他顽耍一回，又带至街前，看那过会[48]的热闹。

方欲进来时，只见从那边来了一僧一道：那僧则癞头跣脚，那道则跛足蓬头，疯疯癫癫，挥霍[49]谈笑而至。及至到了他门前，看见士隐抱着英莲，那僧便大哭起来，又向士隐道：“施主，你把这有命无运[50]、累及爹娘之物，抱在怀内作甚？”士隐听了，知是疯话，也不去睬他。那僧还说：“舍我罢，舍我罢！”士隐不耐烦，便抱女儿撤身要进去，那僧乃指着他大笑，口内念了四句言词道：

惯养娇生笑你痴，菱花空对雪澌澌[51]。

好防佳节元宵后，便是烟消火灭时。

士隐听得明白，心下犹豫，意欲问他们来历。只听道人说道：“你我不必同行，就此分手，各干营生去罢。三劫后，我在北邙山[52]等你，会齐了同往太虚幻境销号。”那僧道：“最妙，最妙！”说毕，二人一去，再不见个踪影了。士隐心中此时自忖：这两个人必有来历，该试一问，如今悔却晚也。

这士隐正痴想，忽见隔壁葫芦庙内寄居的一个穷儒——姓贾名化、字表时飞、别号雨村者走了出来。这贾雨村原系湖州〔九〕[54]人氏，也是诗书仕宦之族，因他生于末世，父母祖宗根基已尽，人口衰丧，只剩得他一身一口，在家乡无益，因进京求取功名，再整基业。自前岁来此，又淹蹇[55]住了，暂寄庙中安身，每日卖字作文为生，故士隐常与他交接。

当下雨村见了士隐，忙施礼陪笑道：“老先生倚门伫望，敢[56]街市上有甚新闻否？”士隐笑道：“非也。适因小女啼哭，引他出来作耍，正是无聊之甚，兄来得正妙，请入小斋一谈，彼此皆可消此永昼。”说着，便令人送女儿进去，自与雨村携手来至书房中。小童献茶。方谈得三五句话，忽家人飞报：“严老爷来拜。”士隐慌的忙起身谢罪道：“恕诳驾[57]之罪，略坐，弟即来陪。”雨村忙起身亦让道：“老先生请便。晚生乃常造之客，稍候何妨。”说着，士隐已出前厅去了。

这里雨村且翻弄书籍解闷。忽听得窗外有女子嗽声，雨村遂起身往窗外一看，原来是一个丫鬟，在那里撷[58]花，生得仪容不俗，眉目清明，虽无十分姿色，却亦有动人之处。雨村不觉看的呆了。

那甄家丫鬟撷了花，方欲走时，猛抬头见窗内有人，敝巾旧服，虽是贫窘，然生得腰圆背厚，面阔口方，更兼剑眉星眼，直鼻权腮[59]。这丫鬟忙转身回避，心下乃想：“这人生的这样雄壮，却又这样褴褛，想他定是我家主人常说的什么贾雨村了，每有意帮助周济，只是没甚机会。我家并无这样贫窘亲友，想定是此人无疑了。怪道又说他必非久困之人。”如此想来，不免又回头两次。

雨村见他回了头，便自为这女子心中有意于他，便狂喜不尽，自为此女子必是个巨眼英雄[60]，风尘[61]中之知己也。一时小童进来，雨村打听得前面留饭，不可久待，遂从夹道中自便出门去了。士隐待客既散，知雨村自便，也不去再邀。

一日，早又中秋佳节。士隐家宴已毕，乃又另具一席于书房，却自己步月至庙中来邀雨村。原来雨村自那日见了甄家之婢曾回顾他两次，自为是个知己，便时刻放在心上。今又正值中秋，不免对月有怀，因而口占五言一律[62]云：

未卜三生愿[63]，频添一段愁[64]。

闷来时敛额[65]，行去几回头。

自顾风前影，谁堪月下俦？[66]

蟾光如有意，先上玉人楼。[67]

雨村吟罢，因又思及平生抱负，苦未逢时，乃又搔首对天长叹，复高吟一联曰：

玉在中求善价，钗于奁内待时飞。[68]

恰值士隐走来听见，笑道：“雨村兄真抱负不浅也！”雨村忙笑道：“不过偶吟前人之句，何敢狂诞至此。”因问：“老先生何兴至此？”士隐笑道：“今夜中秋，俗谓‘团圆之节’，想尊兄旅寄僧房，不无寂寥之感，故特具小酌，邀兄到敝斋一饮，不知可纳芹意[69]否？”雨村听了，并不推辞，便笑道：“既蒙厚爱，何敢拂此盛情。”说着，便同士隐复过这边书院中来。

须臾茶毕，早已设下杯盘，那美酒佳肴自不必说。二人归坐，先是款斟漫饮，次渐谈至兴浓，不觉飞觥限斝[70]起来。当时街坊上家家箫管，户户弦歌，当头一轮明月，飞彩凝辉，二人愈添豪兴，酒到杯干。雨村此时已有七八分酒意，狂兴不禁，乃对月寓怀，口号[71]一绝云：

时逢三五[72]便团圆，满把晴光护玉栏[73]。

天上一轮才捧出，人间万姓仰头看。[74]

士隐听了，大叫：“妙哉！吾每谓兄必非久居人下者，今所吟之句，飞腾之兆已见，不日可接履于云霓之上[75]矣。可贺，可贺！”乃亲斟一斗为贺。雨村因干过，叹道：“非晚生酒后狂言，若论时尚之学[76]，晚生也或可去充数沽名，只是目今行囊路费一概无措，神京[77]路远，非赖卖字撰文即能到者。”士隐不待说完，便道：“兄何不早言。愚每有此心，但每遇兄时，兄并未谈及，愚故未敢唐突。今既及此，愚虽不才，‘义利’二字[78]却还识得。且喜明岁正当大比，兄宜作速入都，春闱[79]一战，方不负兄之所学也。其盘费馀事，弟自代为处置，亦不枉兄之谬识矣！”当下即命小童进去，速封五十两白银，并两套冬衣。又云：“十九日乃黄道之期，兄可即买舟西上，待雄飞高举，明冬再晤，岂非大快之事耶！”雨村收了银衣，不过略谢一语，并不介意，仍是吃酒谈笑。那天已交了三更，二人方散。

士隐送雨村去后，回房一觉，直至红日三竿方醒。因思昨夜之事，意欲再写两封荐书与雨村带至神都，使雨村投谒个仕宦之家为寄足之地。因使人过去请时，那家人去了回来说：“和尚说，贾爷今日五鼓已进京去了，也曾留下话与和尚转达老爷，说‘读书人不在黄道黑道[80]，总以事理为要，不及面辞了。’”士隐听了，也只得罢了。

真是闲处光阴易过，倏忽又是元宵佳节矣。士隐命家人霍启抱了英莲去看社火花灯[81]，半夜中，霍启因要小解，便将英莲放在一家门槛上坐着。待他小解完了来抱时，那有英莲的踪影？急得霍启直寻了半夜，至天明不见，那霍启也就不敢回来见主人，便逃往他乡去了。那士隐夫妇，见女儿一夜不归，便知有些不妥，再使几人去寻找，回来皆云连音响皆无。夫妻二人，半世只生此女，一旦失落，岂不思想，因此昼夜啼哭，几乎不曾寻死。看看的一月，士隐先就得了一病；当时封氏孺人[82]也因思女构疾，日日请医疗治。

不想这日三月十五，葫芦庙中炸供[83]，那些和尚不加小心，致使油锅火逸，便烧着窗纸。此方人家多用竹篱木壁者，大抵也因劫数，于是接二连三，牵五挂四，将一条街烧得如火焰山一般。彼时虽有军民来救，那火已成了势，如何救得下？直烧了一夜，方渐渐的熄去，也不知烧了几家。只可怜甄家在隔壁，早已烧成一片瓦砾场了。只有他夫妇并几个家人的性命不曾伤了。急得士隐惟跌足长叹而已。只得与妻子商议，且到田庄上去安身。偏值近年水旱不收，鼠盗蜂起，无非抢田夺地，鼠窃狗偷，民不安生，因此官兵剿捕，难以安身。士隐只得将田庄都折变了，便携了妻子与两个丫鬟投他岳丈家去。

他岳丈名唤封肃，本贯大如州人氏，虽是务农，家中都还殷实。今见女婿这等狼狈而来，心中便有些不乐。幸而士隐还有折变田地的银子未曾用完，拿出来托他随分就价薄置些须房地，为后日衣食之计。那封肃便半哄半赚，些须与他些薄田朽屋。士隐乃读书之人，不惯生理稼穑等事，勉强支持了一二年，越觉穷了下去。封肃每见面时，便说些现成话，且人前人后又怨他们不善过活，只一味好吃懒作等语。士隐知投人不着，心中未免悔恨，再兼上年惊唬，急忿怨痛，已有积伤，暮年之人，贫病交攻，竟渐渐的露出那下世的光景来[84]。

可巧这日拄了拐杖挣挫到街前散散心时，忽见那边来了一个跛足道人，疯癫落脱[85]，麻屣鹑衣[86]，口内念着几句言词，道是：

世人都晓神仙好，惟有功名忘不了！

古今将相在何方？荒冢一堆草没了。

世人都晓神仙好，只有金银忘不了！

终朝只恨聚无多，及到多时眼闭了。

世人都晓神仙好，只有姣妻忘不了！

君生日日说恩情，君死又随人去了。

世人都晓神仙好，只有儿孙忘不了！

痴心父母古来多，孝顺儿孙谁见了？

士隐听了，便迎上来道：“你满口说些什么？只听见些‘好’‘了’‘好’‘了’。”那道人笑道：“你若果听见‘好’‘了’二字，还算你明白。可知世上万般，好便是了，了便是好。若不了，便不好；若要好，须是了。我这歌儿，便名《好了歌》。”士隐本是有宿慧[87]的，一闻此言，心中早已彻悟[88]。因笑道：“且住！待我将你这《好了歌》解注出来何如？”道人笑道：“你解，你解。”士隐乃说道：

陋室空堂，当年笏满床[89]；衰草枯杨，曾为歌舞场。蛛丝儿结满雕梁，绿纱今又糊在蓬窗上。说什么脂正浓、粉正香，如何两鬓又成霜？昨日黄土陇头[90]送白骨，今宵红灯帐底卧鸳鸯。金满箱，银满箱，展眼乞丐人皆谤。正叹他人命不长，那知自己归来丧！训有方，保不定日后作强梁[91]。择膏粱[92]，谁承望流落在烟花巷[93]！因嫌纱帽小，致使锁枷扛；昨怜破袄寒，今嫌紫蟒[94]长：乱烘烘你方唱罢我登场，反认他乡是故乡[95]。甚荒唐，到头来都是为他人作嫁衣裳[96]！

那疯跛道人听了，拍掌笑道：“解得切，解得切！”士隐便说一声“走罢！”将道人肩上褡裢[97]抢了过来背着，竟不回家，同了疯道人飘飘而去。当下烘动街坊，众人当作一件新闻传说。封氏闻得此信，哭个死去活来，只得与父亲商议，遣人各处访寻，那讨音信？无奈何，少不得依靠着他父母度日。幸而身边还有两个旧日的丫鬟服侍，主仆三人，日夜作些针线发卖，帮着父亲用度。那封肃虽然日日抱怨，也无可奈何了。

这日，那甄家大丫鬟在门前买线，忽听街上喝道之声，众人都说新太爷到任。丫鬟于是隐在门内看时，只见军牢快手[98]，一对一对的过去，俄而大轿抬着一个乌帽猩袍的官府过去。丫鬟倒发了个怔，自思这官好面善，倒像在那里见过的。于是进入房中，也就丢过不在心上。至晚间，正待歇息之时，忽听一片声打的门响，许多人乱嚷，说：“本府太爷差人来传人问话。”封肃听了，唬得目瞪口呆，不知有何祸事，且听下回分解。〔一〇〕

[1] 须眉——代指男子。

[2] 裙钗——代指女子。

[3] 锦衣纨（wán丸）——富贵者的穿着，引申为富家子弟的代称。锦：色彩华美的丝织物。纨：细绢。

[4] 饫（yù玉）甘餍（yàn厌）肥——犹言饱食香甜肥美的食品。饫、餍，吃饱吃腻的意思。

[5] 茅椽（chuán传）蓬牖（yǒu友）——代指草房陋室，贫者所居。茅、蓬都是野草。椽，房椽子；牖，窗户。

[6] 瓦灶绳床——瓦灶为土坯烧成的简陋的灶，俗称行灶。绳床亦名胡床、交床，为一种简易的坐具。《演繁露》：“今之交床，本自虏来，始名胡床……唐穆宗时又名绳床。”

[7] 敷演——叙述生发。

〔一〕 “此开卷第一回也”以下一大段文字，唯甲戌本在第一回回目之前，作为全书“凡例”的第五条，文字与各本少异，并另有回前诗。底本和其馀各本，都在回目之后，作为正文的开头。陈毓罴最早提出：这是脂批。正文应是从“列位看官”开始。从这段文字的内容和行文的特点看，这个结论是可信的。但考虑到其内容主要是“作者自云”，而在各本中又起着相当于楔子的作用，故仍作特殊处理，放在卷首，并在排字时低二格，以示区别。

[9] 女娲（wā洼）氏炼石补天——古代神话传说。女娲氏：传说中的上古“三皇”之一，又称娲皇。《淮南子·览冥训》：“往古之时，四极废，九州裂，天不兼覆，地不周载，……于是女娲炼五色石以补苍天，断鳌足以立四极。”

[10] 大荒山无稽崖——大荒山：《山海经·大荒西经》：“大荒之中有山名曰大荒之山。”这里寓“荒唐”。无稽崖和后文“青埂峰”，均属作者虚拟，分别寓“无稽”、“情根”之意。《红楼梦》一书用人名地名谐音寓意，如后文由脂砚斋注明的有：甄士隐（真事隐），贾雨村（假语存），甄英莲（真应怜），霍启（祸起），封肃（风俗），娇杏（侥幸），冯渊（逢冤），元、迎、探、惜（原应叹息）等等，不再一一作注。

[11] 踮脚——犹言“垫脚”。

〔二〕 “说说笑笑”至“登时变成”共四百二十九字，原作“来至石下，席地而坐长谈，见”十一字，各本同。从甲戌本增。

[13] 扇坠——悬于扇柄的饰物，多用玉、石等制成。

[14] 诗礼簪（zān）缨之族——指书香门第，官宦家族。诗礼：读诗书，讲礼仪。簪缨：贵者的冠饰，这里代指作官。簪：一种横插髻上或连接冠与髻的长针。缨：帽带。

[15] 劫——佛家用语。梵文音译“劫波”之略，意为“远大时节”。佛教认为，世界有周期性的生灭过程，它经历若干万年后，就要毁灭一次，重新开始，此一周期称为一“劫”。

[16] 偈（jì记）——梵文音译“偈陀”或“伽陀”之略，意译为颂。一般为四句之韵文。

[17] 倩谁——倩：一读qìnɡ音庆，作动词，意为请。又读qiàn音欠，如倩影。倩谁，即请谁。

[18] 班姑、蔡女之德能——班姑：即班昭，东汉史学家班固之妹，博学，曾参与续《汉书》。和帝时担任过宫廷教师，号称“大家（ɡū）”，故称“班姑”。编有《女诫》七篇，历来奉为妇德的典范。见《后汉书·曹世叔妻传》。蔡女：指蔡文姬，名琰，东汉文学家蔡邕之女，博学多才，精通音律，是历史上有名的“才女”。见《后汉书·董祀妻传》。

[19] 野史——一般是指与官修正史相对而言的私家编撰的史类著作。“野史”之名始见于《新唐书·艺文志》，后渐与小说家言的“稗官”连用，称“稗官野史”。这里即指小说。

[20] 理治之书——泛指古代“理朝廷治风俗”的书籍。

[21] 风月笔墨——原指描写风花雪月、儿女私情的文字。这里专指着意渲染色情的作品。

〔三〕 “更有一种”至“又不可胜数”二十六字，原无。梦稿、甲戌、蒙府、戚序、俄藏、卞藏、甲辰本均存，文字小异。从梦稿、甲戌本补。

[23] 潘安、子建、西子、文君——这里代指才子佳人。潘安：即潘安仁，晋代文人，著名美男子。子建：曹植的字，三国时文学家，以才高著称。西子：即西施，春秋时越国美女。文君：汉代卓王孙的女儿，新寡后“私奔”文学家司马相如，结为夫妇。

〔四〕 “醉淫饱卧”，底本、梦稿、俄藏、卞藏本同。蒙府、戚序本作“醉饱淫卧”，甲戌本作“醉馀饱卧”，甲辰本作“醉心饱卧”，舒序本作“醉酒饱卧”。

〔五〕 “避事”，梦稿、甲辰、舒序、俄藏、卞藏本同。甲戌、蒙府、戚序本作“避世”。

[26] 红娘、小玉——红娘：唐代元稹《会真记》（至元代王实甫衍为杂剧《西厢记》）中崔莺莺的丫鬟。小玉：唐代蒋防《霍小玉传》中的女主人公。

[27] 伦常——即封建伦理道德。伦：人伦，封建社会指人与人之间关系及行为的准则。封建社会以君臣、父子、夫妇、兄弟、朋友为五伦，认为是不可改变的常道，亦称五常。

〔六〕 “从此空空道人”，原无，各脂本均同。从程甲本补。

[29] 空——“空”与下文的“色”、“情”，均佛教用语。佛教认为“空”乃天地万物的本体，一切终属空虚。“色”乃万物本体（空）的瞬息生灭的假象；“情”乃对此等假象（色）所产生的种种感情，如爱、憎等等。这里是借用，已注入了作家的人生体验。

[30] 《风月宝鉴》——甲戌本眉批云：“雪芹旧有《风月宝鉴》之书，乃其弟棠村序也。”甲戌本“凡例”云：《红楼梦》“又曰《风月宝鉴》，是戒妄动风月之情”。风月：指男女之情。宝鉴：宝镜。

[31] 金陵十二钗——金陵，古邑名，楚威王七年（公元前333年）置，在今南京市。后即为南京市的别称。钗：本为妇女的头饰。旧称女子为“裙钗”或“金钗”。十二钗，语本《古乐府》：“头上金钗十二行”，原言髻高插钗之多。又作十二女子代称。此书又“题曰《金陵十二钗》”，通常认为是由第五回“册子”上所写的十二个女子得名。

[32] 地陷东南——东南大地塌陷下沉。古代神话：共工与颛顼（zhuān　xū专须）争帝，怒而触不周山，折天柱，绝地维，天倾西北，地不满东南。见《淮南子·天文训》。

[33] 姑苏、阊（chānɡ昌）门——姑苏：苏州的别称，因其西南有姑苏山而得名。这里是指旧苏州府辖境。阊门：苏州城的西北门，又名破楚门。这里代指苏州城。

[34] 十里街、仁清巷——据脂批，谐音“势利街”、“人情巷”。

〔七〕 “英莲”，原作“英菊”，己卯本同。从梦稿、甲戌、蒙府、戚序、甲辰、舒序、俄藏、卞藏本改。下此名重出时，各本情况大体相同，不再作校记。

[36] 手倦抛书——见北宋人蔡确《夏日登车盖亭》诗（收入《千家诗》）其前二句：“纸屏石枕竹方床，手倦抛书午梦长。”

[37] 风流冤家——“冤家”，原为佛教用语。《五灯会元》：“佛教慈悲，冤亲平等。”后既作“仇人”、“对头”解，也用作对所爱之人的昵称，即爱极的反语。“风流冤家”指极相爱恋之男女。

[38] 西方灵河岸上三生石——西方灵河岸上：作者假想的神仙境界。西方：原指佛教的发源地天竺（古代印度）。灵河：原指恒河，今印度人犹称之为“圣水”。三生：指前生、今生和来生，这是佛教转世投胎的说法。三生石：传说唐代李源与和尚圆观交情很好，后有“三生石上旧精魂”、“此身虽异性常存”之句。见唐代袁郊《甘泽谣·圆观》。后以“三生石”喻因缘前定。

[39] 离恨天、蜜青果、灌愁海——离恨天：俗传“三十三天，离恨天最高；四百四十病，相思病最苦。”蜜青谐“秘情”。灌愁海：喻愁深。皆寓男女之情及其怨恨愁苦。

[40] 五内——五脏，即心、肝、脾、肺、肾。亦泛言内心深处。

[41] 不肖——旧时称不能继承父业之子曰不肖。肖：像。

[42] 度脱——佛家用语。超度解脱。

[43] 警省（xǐnɡ醒）、沉沦——均佛家用语。警省：警觉省悟。沉沦：指在生死轮回中永远不得解脱。

[44] 玄机——道家用语。谓玄奥微妙的道理。这里义同天机。

[45] 火坑——佛家用语，指苦难的人世。

[46] 太虚幻境——作者虚拟的仙境。太虚：空幻虚无的意思。

〔八〕 对联，原作“假作真时真作假，无为有处有为无”。己卯、梦稿本上联同底本。舒本略为特殊，作“色色空空地，真真假假天”。馀各本均作“假作真时真亦假，无为有处有还无”。第五回此联重出时，底本及其他各本，均作“真亦假”“有还无”。从改。

[48] 过会——旧时遇节庆，随地聚演百戏杂耍、笙乐鼓吹之类，观者如潮。

[49] 挥霍——亦作“挥攉”。《韵会》：“摇手曰挥，反手曰攉。”本谓动作轻捷，这里是挥洒自如的意思。

[50] 有命无运——旧时“算命”，用人出生的年、月、日、时所属的干支和金、木、水、火、土五行的生克来推断人的吉凶祸福；称一生的境遇好坏为“命”，一段时间的遭际为“运”。有命无运，这里意谓平生“行运”乖逆，遭际堪悲。

[51] “菱花”句——隐喻英莲被呆霸王薛蟠强占作妾的不幸遭遇。菱花：指后来英莲改名香菱。雪：谐音“薛”，指薛蟠。菱在夏日开花而竟遇冰雪，喻英莲“生不逢时，遇又非偶”（脂评），定然遭到摧残。澌（sī司）澌：形容雪声。

[52] 北邙（mánɡ芒）山——也作“北芒山”，即邙山。在今河南省洛阳市北。东汉及北魏的王侯公卿多葬于此。后常被用来泛指墓地。

〔九〕 “湖州”，底本、甲戌、己卯本第二回、卞藏本作“胡州”，梦稿本第二回作“湖北”。从己卯（第一回）、蒙府、戚序、甲辰、舒序、俄藏本改。

[54] 湖州——地名。今浙江省湖州市。脂评：谐音“胡诌也”。

[55] 淹蹇（yān　jiǎn烟简）——即偃蹇。原指境遇困顿、不得意，这里是耽搁、阻滞的意思。

[56] 敢——意谓莫非、恐怕、或许，这里作“莫非”解。

[57] 诳（kuánɡ狂）驾——邀来客人后，因故不能陪待，向客人道歉之词，犹言“失陪”。诳或作“诓”，欺骗的意思。驾：对客人的尊称。

[58] 撷（xié协）——采摘、捋取。唐代王维《相思》：“愿君多采撷，此物（红豆）最相思。”

[59] 权腮——俗称颧骨腮，指人颧骨长得很高，相法认为是一种贵相。沈括《梦溪笔谈·人事》：“公满面权骨，不十年必总枢柄。”

[60] 巨眼英雄——有远见，能识鉴人才的人。

[61] 风尘——这里指扰攘的尘世，又有旅居在外，备尝艰辛之意。

[62] 口占五言一律——口占：随口吟成，与下文“口号”义同。五言一律：每句五个字的律诗一首。

[63] “未卜”句——未卜：不能预知。全句意为同娇杏结姻缘的愿望不知能否实现。

[64] “频添”句——意即把这段愁绪时刻挂在心上。频：屡屡；时时。

[65] 敛额——皱眉头。

[66] “自顾”二句——意谓风前自顾身影，有谁能赏识自己，成为我的终身伴侣呢？自顾风前影：由“顾影自怜”化出。堪：能，配得上。月下俦（chóu愁）：成婚配的意思。传说唐代韦固在宋城遇一老人在月下检天下婚姻之书，囊中并有赤绳，一系男女之足，则必成夫妇。见李复言《续玄怪录》。后因称管婚姻之神为“月下老人”或“月老”，也用来代称媒人。俦：伴侣。

[67] “蟾光”二句——蟾光：指月光。原意是：月光如真有情意，希望先照玉人的妆楼。暗含若得科举及第，定先到玉人楼上求婚之意。“蟾光”句，亦寓“蟾宫折桂”（即科举及第）之意。玉人楼：美人居住的地方，玉人，指娇杏。

[68] “玉在”一联——这里贾雨村自比玉、钗，企图得到赏识，以求飞黄腾达。上句意谓美玉藏在匣子里希望卖得好价钱。（dú读）：即“椟”。木匣；木柜。下句意谓玉钗放在镜盒中，等待时机而飞腾。传说汉武帝元鼎元年，有神女留一玉钗，昭帝时，有人偷开匣子，不见玉钗，只见一只白燕从中飞出，升天而去。见郭宪《洞冥记》。

[69] 芹意——古时有人认为芹菜的味道很美，就向乡豪称赞，乡豪尝后，却觉得很难吃。见《列子·杨朱篇》。后人常用“献芹”、“芹意”等作为送礼或请客的谦词。

[70] 飞觥（ɡōnɡ工）限斝（jiǎ甲）——觥筹交错、饮宴尽欢的情景。觥、斝：两种古代酒器，前者为角形，后者圆口平底。飞觥：挥杯；限斝：行酒令时限定饮酒数量。

[71] 口号——犹言“口占”，不借笔墨、随口吟成。《宋史·乐志》：“乐工致辞，继以诗一章，谓之口号。”

[72] 三五——十五，指阴历十五日。

[73] “满把”句——满把：满握。满把晴光：极言月光皎洁充盈。护玉栏：玉石栏杆沉浸在皎洁的月光里。

[74] “天上”二句——据说赵匡胤未登极时，曾拿《咏月》诗给徐铉看，徐铉读到“未离海底千山黑，才到中天万国明”这两句时，认为帝王之兆已显。见宋代陈师道《后山诗话》。贾诗后两句所抒胸臆类此，故甄士隐说他“飞腾之兆已见”。

[75] 接履于云霓之上——犹言平步青云。接履：一步紧接一步。云霓：喻高位。

[76] 时尚之学——时人所崇尚的学问。这里指明清科举考试用的“八股文”和“试帖诗”等。

[77] 神京——与下文“神都”，均指京城。

[78] “义利”二字——《论语·里仁》：“君子喻于义，小人喻于利。”义：道义。利：功利，这里指钱财。

[79] 大比、春闱（wéi围）——明清科举制，考试分为三级。第一级是院试，考府县的童生，考取的为“生员”（秀才）；第二级是乡试，考一省的生员，考取的为“举人”；第三级是会试，考全国的举人，考取的为“贡士”（再经殿试赐进士出身）。乡试、会试均三年一科，也称“大比”。乡试在秋天，称为“秋闱”；会试在春天，称为“春闱”。闱：指考场。这里的“大比”是指会试。

[80] 黄道黑道——为我国古代天文学的专名，黄道指日，黑道指月。《汉书·天文志》：“日有中道”，“中道者黄道，一曰光道。”又云：“月有九行者，黑道二。”后星占者将每日的干支阴阳分为“黄道”和“黑道”，黄道主吉，黑道主凶。

[81] 社火花灯——这里指元宵节灯火。社：社日。祭祀土神之日，分春秋两祭，立春后第五个戊日为春社，立秋后第五个戊日为秋社。社火：社日扮演的各种杂戏。花灯：正月十五元宵节有放花灯的习俗。

[82] 孺人——《礼记·曲礼下》：“天子之妃曰后，诸侯曰夫人，大夫曰孺人，士曰妇人，庶人曰妻。”孺人在明清为七品官之母或妻的封号。后通用为妇人的尊称。

[83] 炸供——油炸供神用的食品。

[84] “下世”句——下世：此指死亡。全句是指快要死亡、不久于世的意思。

[85] 落脱——即“落拓”、“落托”。这里是行为狂放的意思。

[86] 麻屣（xǐ洗）鹑（chún纯）衣——麻屣：麻鞋。鹑：鹌鹑，鸟名。其尾短秃，如补绽百结，故称破烂衣服为鹑衣。

[87] 宿慧——佛家用语。指超越常人的智慧，认为这种智慧是宿世（即前世）带来的。

[88] 彻悟——即佛教所说的大彻大悟，看破红尘。

[89] 笏（hù户）满床——形容家中做大官的人很多。笏：一名“手板”。封建时代臣僚上朝时手中所拿的狭长板子，用象牙或木、竹片制成，可作临时记事之用。

[90] 黄土陇（lǒnɡ拢）头——指坟墓。陇：通“垄”，田中高地；坟墓。

[91] 强梁——横暴；蛮不讲理。《庄子·山木》：“从其强梁。”唐代陆德明《释文》：“强梁，多力也。”这里指强盗。

[92] 择膏粱——意谓挑选富贵人家子弟作婿。膏：脂肪；油。粱：精米。膏粱：本指精美的饭菜，这里用作“膏粱子弟”的省称。

[93] 烟花巷——旧时妓院聚集的地方。烟花：歌女；娼妓。

[94] 紫蟒——紫色的蟒袍。紫：古代按官阶等级穿着不同颜色的公服；唐制，亲王及三品服用紫色。

[95] 反认他乡是故乡——这里把现实人生比作暂时寄居的他乡，而把超脱尘世的虚幻世界当作人生本源的故乡；因而说那些为功名利禄、姣妻美妾、儿女后事奔忙而忘掉人生本源的人是错将他乡当作故乡。

[96] 为他人作嫁衣裳——喻白白替他人奔忙，死后一切皆空。唐代秦韬玉《贫女》诗：“苦恨年年压金线，为他人作嫁衣裳。”

[97] 褡裢——一种中间开口而两端装钱物的长方口袋，小的可以挂在腰带上，大的可以搭在肩膀上。

[98] 军牢快手——封建官吏手下执行缉捕、防卫和行刑的隶卒。官僚出巡，常由他们前呼后拥，以示威势。

〔一〇〕 “且听下回分解”——底本无，俄藏本作“下回便晓”。据卞藏本补。

CHAPTER 1. Zhen Shi-yin makes the Stone’s acquaintance in a dream And Jia Yu-cun finds that poverty is not incompatible with romantic feelings

GENTLE READER,

What, you may ask, was the origin of this book?

Though the answer to this question may at first seem to border on the absurd, reflection will show that there is a good deal more in it than meets the eye.

Long ago, when the goddess Nü-wa was repairing the sky, she melted down a great quantity of rock and, on the Incredible Crags of the Great Fable Mountains, moulded the amalgam into thirty-six thousand, five hundred and one large building blocks, each measuring seventy-two feet by a hundred and forty-four feet square. She used thirty-six thousand five hundred of these blocks in the course of her building operations, leaving a single odd block unused, which lay, all on its own, at the foot of Greensickness Peak in the aforementioned mountains.

Now this block of stone, having undergone the melting and moulding of a goddess, possessed magic powers. It could move about at will and could grow or shrink to any size it wanted. Observing that all the other blocks had been used for celestial repairs and that it was the only one to have been rejected as unworthy, it became filled with shame and resentment and passed its days in sorrow and lamentation.

One day, in the midst of its lamentings, it saw a monk and a Taoist approaching from a great distance, each of them remarkable for certain eccentricities of manner and appearance. When they arrived at the foot of Greensickness Peak, they sat down on the ground and began to talk. The monk, catching sight of a lustrous, translucent stone – it was in fact the rejected building block which had now shrunk itself to the size of a fan-pendant and looked very attractive in its new shape – took it up on the palm of his hand and addressed it with a smile:

‘Ha, I see you have magical properties! But nothing to recommend you. I shall have to cut a few words on you so that anyone seeing you will know at once that you are something special. After that I shall take you to a certain

brilliant

successful

poetical

cultivated

aristocratic

elegant

delectable

luxurious

opulent

locality on a little trip’.

The stone was delighted.

‘What words will you cut? Where is this place you will take me to? I beg to be enlightened.’

‘Do not ask,’ replied the monk with a laugh. ‘You will know soon enough when the time comes.’

And with that he slipped the stone into his sleeve and set off at a great pace with the Taoist. But where they both went to I have no idea.

Countless aeons went by and a certain Taoist called Vanitas in quest of the secret of immortality chanced to be passing below that same Greensickness Peak in the Incredible Crags of the Great Fable Mountains when he caught sight of a large stone standing there, on which the characters of a long inscription were clearly discernible.

Vanitas read the inscription through from beginning to end and learned that this was a once lifeless stone block which had been found unworthy to repair the sky, but which had magically transformed its shape and been taken down by the Buddhist mahāsattva Impervioso and the Taoist illuminate Mysterioso into the world of mortals, where it had lived out the life of a man before finally attaining nirvana and returning to the other shore. The inscription named the country where it had been born, and went into considerable detail about its domestic life, youthful amours, and even the verses, mottoes and riddles it had written. All it lacked was the authentication of a dynasty and date. On the back of the stone was inscribed the following quatrain:

Found unfit to repair the azure sky

Long years a foolish mortal man was I.

My life in both worlds on this stone is writ:

Pray who will copy out and publish it?

From his reading of the inscription Vanitas realized that this was a stone of some consequence. Accordingly he addressed himself to it in the following manner:

‘Brother Stone, according to what you yourself seem to imply in these verses, this story of yours contains matter of sufficient interest to merit publication and has been carved here with that end in view. But as far as I can see (a) it has no discoverable dynastic period, and (b) it contains no examples of moral grandeur among its characters – no statesmanship, no social message of any kind. All I can find in it, in fact, are a number of females, conspicuous, if at all, only for their passion or folly or for some trifling talent or insignificant virtue. Even if I were to copy all this out, I cannot see that it would make a very remarkable book.’

‘Come, your reverence,’ said the stone (for Vanitas had been correct in assuming that it could speak) ‘must you be so obtuse? All the romances ever written have an artificial period setting – Han or Tang for the most part. In refusing to make use of that stale old convention and telling my Story of the Stone exactly as it occurred, it seems to me that, far from depriving it of anything, I have given it a freshness these other books do not have.

‘Your so-called “historical romances”, consisting, as they do, of scandalous anecdotes about statesmen and emperors of bygone days and scabrous attacks on the reputations of long-dead gentlewomen, contain more wickedness and immorality than I care to mention. Still worse is the “erotic novel”, by whose filthy obscenities our young folk are all too easily corrupted. And the “boudoir romances”, those dreary stereotypes with their volume after volume all pitched on the same note and their different characters undistinguishable except by name (all those ideally beautiful young ladies and ideally eligible young bachelors) – even they seem unable to avoid descending sooner or later into indecency.

‘The trouble with this last kind of romance is that it only gets written in the first place because the author requires a framework in which to show off his love-poems. He goes about constructing this framework quite mechanically, beginning with the names of his pair of young lovers and invariably adding a third character, a servant or the like, to make mischief between them, like the chou in a comedy.

‘What makes these romances even more detestable is the stilted, bombastic language – inanities dressed in pompous rhetoric, remote alike from nature and common sense and teeming with the grossest absurdities.

‘Surely my “number of females”, whom I spent half a lifetime studying with my own eyes and ears, are preferable to this kind of stuff? I do not claim that they are better people than the ones who appear in books written before my time; I am only saying that the contemplation of their actions and motives may prove a more effective antidote to boredom and melancholy. And even the inelegant verses with which my story is interlarded could serve to entertain and amuse on those convivial occasions when rhymes and riddles are in demand.

‘All that my story narrates, the meetings and partings, the joys and sorrows, the ups and downs of fortune, are recorded exactly as they happened. I have not dared to add the tiniest bit of touching-up, for fear of losing the true picture.

‘My only wish is that men in the world below may sometimes pick up this tale when they are recovering from sleep or drunkenness, or when they wish to escape from business worries or a fit of the dumps, and in doing so find not only mental refreshment but even perhaps, if they will heed its lesson and abandon their vain and frivolous pursuits, some small arrest in the deterioration of their vital forces. What does your reverence say to that?’

For a long time Vanitas stood lost in thought, pondering this speech. He then subjected the Story of the Stone to a careful second reading. He could see that its main theme was love; that it consisted quite simply of a true record of real events; and that it was entirely free from any tendency to deprave and corrupt. He therefore copied it all out from beginning to end and took it back with him to look for a publisher.

As a consequence of all this, Vanitas, starting off in the Void (which is Truth) came to the contemplation of Form (which is Illusion); and from Form engendered Passion; and by communicating Passion, entered again into Form; and from Form awoke to the Void (which is Truth). He therefore changed his name from Vanitas to Brother Amor, or the Passionate Monk, (because he had approached Truth by way of Passion), and changed the title of the book from The Story of the Stone to The Tale of Brother Amor.

Old Kong Mei-xi from the homeland of Confucius called the book A Mirror for the Romantic. Wu Yu-feng called it A Dream of Golden Days. Cao Xueqin in his Nostalgia Studio worked on it for ten years, in the course of which he rewrote it no less than five times, dividing it into chapters, composing chapter headings, renaming it The Twelve Beauties of Jinling, and adding an introductory quatrain. Red Inkstone restored the original title when he recopied the book and added his second set of annotations to it.

This, then, is a true account of how The Story of the Stone came to be written.

Pages full of idle words

Penned with hot and bitter tears:

All men call the author fool;

None his secret message hears.

The origin of The Story of the Stone has now been made clear. The same cannot, however, be said of the characters and events which it recorded. Gentle reader, have patience! This is how the inscription began:

Long, long ago the world was tilted downwards towards the south-east; and in that lower-lying south-easterly part of the earth there is a city called Soochow; and in Soochow the district around the Chang-men Gate is reckoned one of the two or three wealthiest and most fashionable quarters in the world of men. Outside the Chang-men Gate is a wide thoroughfare called Worldly Way; and somewhere off Worldly Way is an area called Carnal Lane. There is an old temple in the Carnal Lane area which, because of the way it is bottled up inside a narrow cul-de-sac, is referred to locally as Bottle-gourd Temple. Next door to Bottle-gourd Temple lived a gentleman of private means called Zhen Shi-yin and his wife Feng-shi, a kind, good woman with a profound sense of decency and decorum. The household was not a particularly wealthy one, but they were nevertheless looked up to by all and sundry as the leading family in the neighbourhood.

Zhen Shi-yin himself was by nature a quiet and totally unambitious person. He devoted his time to his garden and to the pleasures of wine and poetry. Except for a single flaw, his existence could, indeed, have been described as an idyllic one. The flaw was that, although already past fifty, he had no son, only a little girl, just two years old, whose name was Ying-lian.

Once, during the tedium of a burning summer’s day, Shi-yin was sitting idly in his study. The book had slipped from his nerveless grasp and his head had nodded down onto the desk in a doze. While in this drowsy state he seemed to drift off to some place he could not identify, where he became aware of a monk and a Taoist walking along and talking as they went.

‘Where do you intend to take that thing you are carrying?’ the Taoist was asking.

‘Don’t you worry about him!’ replied the monk with a laugh. ‘There is a batch of lovesick souls awaiting incarnation in the world below whose fate is due to be decided this very day. I intend to take advantage of this opportunity to slip our little friend in amongst them and let him have a taste of human life along with the rest.’

‘Well, well, so another lot of these amorous wretches is about to enter the vale of tears,’ said the Taoist. ‘How did all this begin? And where are the souls to be reborn?’

‘You will laugh when I tell you,’ said the monk. ‘When this stone was left unused by the goddess, he found himself at a loose end and took to wandering about all over the place for want of better to do, until one day his wanderings took him to the place where the fairy Disenchantment lives.

‘Now Disenchantment could tell that there was something unusual about this stone, so she kept him there in her Sunset Glow Palace and gave him the honorary title of Divine Luminescent Stone-in-Waiting in the Court of Sunset Glow.

‘But most of his time he spent west of Sunset Glow exploring the banks of the Magic River. There, by the Rock of Rebirth, he found the beautiful Crimson Pearl Flower, for which he conceived such a fancy that he took to watering her every day with sweet dew, thereby conferring on her the gift of life.

‘Crimson Pearl’s substance was composed of the purest cosmic essences, so she was already half-divine; and now, thanks to the vitalizing effect of the sweet dew, she was able to shed her vegetable shape and assume the form of a girl.

‘This fairy girl wandered about outside the Realm of Separation, eating the Secret Passion Fruit when she was hungry and drinking from the Pool of Sadness when she was thirsty. The consciousness that she owed the stone something for his kindness in watering her began to prey on her mind and ended by becoming an obsession.

‘ “I have no sweet dew here that I can repay him with,” she would say to herself. “The only way in which I could perhaps repay him would be with the tears shed during the whole of a mortal lifetime if he and I were ever to be reborn as humans in the world below.”

‘Because of this strange affair, Disenchantment has got together a group of amorous young souls, of which Crimson Pearl is one, and intends to send them down into the world to take part in the great illusion of human life. And as today happens to be the day on which this stone is fated to go into the world too, I am taking him with me to Disenchantment’s tribunal for the purpose of getting him registered and sent down to earth with the rest of these romantic creatures,’

‘How very amusing!’ said the Taoist. ‘I have certainly never heard of a debt of tears before. Why shouldn’t the two of us take advantage of this opportunity to go down into the world ourselves and save a few souls? It would be a work of merit.’

‘That is exactly what I was thinking,’ said the monk. ‘Come with me to Disenchantment’s palace to get this absurd creature cleared. Then, when this last batch of romantic idiots goes down, you and I can go down with them. At present about half have already been born. They await this last batch to make up the number.’

‘Very good, I will go with you then,’ said the Taoist. Shi-yin heard all this conversation quite clearly, and curiosity impelled him to go forward and greet the two reverend gentlemen. They returned his greeting and asked him what he wanted.

‘It is not often that one has the opportunity of listening to a discussion of the operations of karma such as the one I have just been privileged to overhear,’ said Shi-yin. ‘Unfortunately I am a man of very limited understanding and have not been able to derive the full benefit from your conversation. If you would have the very great kindness to enlighten my benighted understanding with a somewhat fuller account of what you were discussing, I can promise you the most devout attention. I feel sure that your teaching would have a salutary effect on me and – who knows – might save me from the pains of hell.’

The reverend gentlemen laughed. ‘These are heavenly mysteries and may not be divulged. But if you wish to escape from the fiery pit, you have only to remember us when the time comes, and all will be well.’

Shi-yin saw that it would be useless to press them. ‘Heavenly mysteries must not, of course, be revealed. But might one perhaps inquire what the “absurd creature” is that you were talking about? Is it possible that I might be allowed to see it?’

‘Oh, as for that,’ said the monk: ‘I think it is on the cards for you to have a look at him,’ and he took the object from his sleeve and handed it to Shi-yin.

Shi-yin took the object from him and saw that it was a clear, beautiful jade on one side of which were carved the words ‘Magic Jade’. There were several columns of smaller characters on the back, which Shi-yin was just going to examine more closely when the monk, with a cry of ‘Here we are, at the frontier of Illusion’, snatched the stone from him and disappeared, with the Taoist, through a big stone archway above which

THE LAND OF ILLUSION

was written in large characters. A couplet in smaller characters was inscribed vertically on either side of the arch:

Truth becomes fiction when the fiction’s true;

Real becomes not-real where the unreal’s real.

Shi-yin was on the point of following them through the archway when suddenly a great clap of thunder seemed to shake the earth to its very foundations, making him cry out in alarm.

And there he was sitting in his study, the contents of his dream already half forgotten, with the sun still blazing on the ever-rustling plantains outside, and the wet-nurse at the door with his little daughter Ying-lian in her arms. Her delicate little pink-and-white face seemed dearer to him than ever at that moment, and he stretched out his arms to take her and hugged her to him.

After playing with her for a while at his desk, he carried her out to the front of the house to watch the bustle in the street. He was about to go in again when he saw a monk and a Taoist approaching, the monk scabby-headed and barefoot, the Taoist tousle-haired and limping. They were behaving like madmen, shouting with laughter and gesticulating wildly as they walked along.

When this strange pair reached Shi-yin’s door and saw him standing there holding Ying-lian, the monk burst into loud sobs. ‘Patron,’ he said, addressing Shi-yin, ‘what are you doing, holding in your arms that ill-fated creature who is destined to involve both her parents in her own misfortune?’

Shi-yin realized that he was listening to the words of a madman and took no notice. But the monk persisted:

‘Give her to me! Give her to me!’

Shi-yin was beginning to lose patience and, clasping his little girl more tightly to him, turned on his heel and was about to re-enter the house when the monk pointed his finger at him, roared with laughter, and then proceeded to intone the following verses:

‘Fond man, your pampered child to cherish so –

That caltrop-glass which shines on melting snow!

Beware the high feast of the fifteenth day,

When all in smoke and fire shall pass away!’1

Shi-yin heard all this quite plainly and was a little worried by it. He was thinking of asking the monk what lay behind these puzzling words when he heard the Taoist say, ‘We don’t need to stay together. Why don’t we part company here and each go about his own business? Three kalpas from now I shall wait for you on Bei-mang Hill. Having joined forces again there, we can go together to the Land of Illusion to sign off.’

‘Excellent!’ said the other. And the two of them went off and soon were both lost to sight.

‘There must have been something behind all this,’ thought Shi-yin to himself. ‘I really ought to have asked him what he meant, but now it is too late.’

He was still standing outside his door brooding when Jia Yu-cun, the poor student who lodged at the Bottle-gourd Temple next door, came up to him. Yu-cun was a native of Hu-zhou and came from a family of scholars and bureaucrats which had, however, fallen on bad times when Yu-cun was born. The family fortunes on both his father’s and mother’s side had all been spent, and the members of the family had themselves gradually died off until only Yu-cun was left. There were no prospects for him in his home town, so he had set off for the capital, in search of fame and fortune. Unfortunately he had got no further than Soochow when his funds ran out, and he had now been living there in poverty for a year, lodging in this temple and keeping himself alive by working as a copyist. For this reason Shi-yin saw a great deal of his company.

As soon as he caught sight of Shi-yin, Yu-cun clasped his hands in greeting and smiled ingratiatingly. ‘I could see you standing there gazing, sir. Has anything been happening in the street?’

‘No, no,’ said Shi-yin. ‘It just happened’ that my little girl was crying, so I brought her out here to amuse her. Your coming is most opportune, dear boy. I was beginning to feel most dreadfully bored. Won’t you come into my little den, and we can help each other to while away this tedious hot day?’

So saying, he called for a servant to take the child indoors, while he himself took Yu-cun by the hand and led him into his study, where his boy served them both with tea. But they had not exchanged half-a-dozen words before one of the servants rushed in to say that ‘Mr Yan had come to pay a call.’ Shi-yin hurriedly rose up and excused himself: ‘I seem to have brought you here under false pretences. I do hope you will forgive me. If you don’t mind sitting on your own here for a moment, I shall be with you directly.’

Yu-cun rose to his feet too. ‘Please do not distress yourself on my account, sir. I am a regular visitor here and can easily wait a bit.’ But by the time he had finished saying this, Shi-yin was already out of the study and on his way to the guestroom.

Left to himself, Yu-cun was flicking through some of Shi-yin’s books of poetry in order to pass the time, when he heard a woman’s cough outside the window. Immediately he jumped up and peered out to see who it was. The cough appeared to have come from a maid who was picking flowers in the garden. She was an unusually good-looking girl with a rather refined face: not a great beauty, by any means, but with something striking about her. Yu-cun gazed at her spellbound.

Having now finished picking her flowers, this anonymous member of the Zhen household was about to go in again when, on some sudden impulse, she raised her head and caught sight of a man standing in the window. His hat was frayed and his clothing threadbare; yet, though obviously poor, he had a fine, manly physique and handsome, well-proportioned features.

The maid hastened to remove herself from this male presence; but as she went she thought to herself, ‘What a fine-looking man! But so shabby! The family hasn’t got any friends or relations as poor as that. It must be that Jia Yu-cun the master is always on about. No wonder he says that he won’t stay poor long. I remember hearing him say that he’s often wanted to help him but hasn’t yet found an opportunity.’ And thinking these thoughts she could not forbear to turn back for another peep or two.

Yu-cun saw her turn back and, at once assuming that she had taken a fancy to him, was beside himself with delight. What a perceptive young woman she must be, he thought, to have seen the genius underneath the rags! A real friend in trouble!

After a while the boy came in again and Yu-cun elicited from him that the visitor in the front room was now staying to dinner. It was obviously out of the question to wait much longer, so he slipped down the passage-way at the side of the house and let himself out by the back gate. Nor did Shi-yin invite him round again when, having at last seen off his visitor, he learned that Yu-cun had already left.

But then the Mid Autumn festival arrived and, after the family convivialities were over, Shi-yin had a little dinner for two laid out in his study and went in person to invite Yu-cun, walking to his temple lodgings in the moonlight.

Ever since the day the Zhens’ maid had, by looking back twice over her shoulder, convinced him that she was a friend, Yu-cun had had the girl very much on his mind, and now that it was festival time, the full moon of Mid Autumn lent an inspiration to his romantic impulses which finally resulted in the following octet:

‘Ere on ambition’s path my feet are set,

Sorrow comes often this poor heart to fret.

Yet, as my brow contracted with new care,

Was there not one who, parting, turned to stare?

Dare I, that grasp at shadows in the wind,

Hope, underneath the moon, a friend to find?

Bright orb, if with my plight you sympathize,

Shine first upon the chamber where she lies.’

Having delivered himself of this masterpiece, Yu-cun’s thoughts began to run on his unrealized ambitions and, after much head-scratching and many heavenward glances accompanied by heavy sighs, he produced the following couplet, reciting it in a loud, ringing voice which caught the ear of Shi-yin, who chanced at that moment to be arriving:

‘The jewel in the casket bides till one shall come to buy.

The jade pin in the drawer hides, waiting its time to fly.’2

Shi-yin smiled. ‘You are a man of no mean ambition, Yu-cun.’

‘Oh no!’ Yu-cun smiled back deprecatingly. ‘You are too flattering. I was merely reciting at random from the lines of some old poet. But what brings you here, sir?’

‘Tonight is Mid Autumn night,’ said Shi-yin. ‘People call it the Festival of Reunion. It occurred to me that you might be feeling rather lonely here in your monkery, so I have arranged for the two of us to take a little wine together in my study. I hope you will not refuse to join me.’

Yu-cun made no polite pretence of declining. ‘Your kindness is more than I deserve,’ he said. ‘I accept gratefully.’ And he accompanied Shi-yin back to the study next door.

Soon they had finished their tea. Wine and various choice dishes were brought in and placed on the table, already laid out with cups, plates, and so forth, and the two men took their places and began to drink. At first they were rather slow and ceremonious; but gradually, as the conversation grew more animated, their potations too became more reckless and uninhibited. The sounds of music and singing which could now be heard from every house in the neighbourhood and the full moon which shone with cold brilliance overhead seemed to increase their elation, so that the cups were emptied almost as soon as they touched their lips, and Yu-cun, who was already a sheet or so in the wind, was seized with an irrepressible excitement to which he presently gave expression in the form of a quatrain, ostensibly on the subject of the moon, but really about the ambition he had hitherto been at some pains to conceal:

‘In thrice five nights her perfect O is made,

Whose cold light bathes each marble balustrade.

As her bright wheel starts on its starry ways,

On earth ten thousand heads look up and gaze.’

‘Bravo!’ said Shi-yin loudly. ‘I have always insisted that you were a young fellow who would go up in the world, and now, in these verses you have just recited, I see an augury of your ascent. In no time at all we shall see you up among the clouds! This calls for a drink!’ And, saying this, he poured Yu-cun a large cup of wine.

Yu-cun drained the cup, then, surprisingly, sighed:

‘Don’t imagine the drink is making me boastful, but I really do believe that if it were just a question of having the sort of qualifications now in demand, I should stand as good a chance as any of getting myself on to the list of candidates. The trouble is that I simply have no means of laying my hands on the money that would be needed for lodgings and travel expenses. The journey to the capital is a long one, and the sort of money I can earn from my copying is not enough—’

‘Why ever didn’t you say this before?’ said Shi-yin interrupting him. ‘I have long wanted to do something about this, but on all the occasions I have met you previously, the conversation has never got round to this subject, and I haven’t liked to broach it for fear of offending you. Well, now we know where we are. I am not a very clever man, but at least I know the right thing to do when I see it. Luckily, the next Triennial is only a few months ahead. You must go to the capital without delay. A spring examination triumph will make you feel that all your studying has been worth while. I shall take care of all your expenses. It is the least return I can make for your friendship.’ And there and then he instructed his boy to go with all speed and make up a parcel of fifty taels of the best refined silver and two suits of winter clothes.

‘The almanac gives the nineteenth as a good day for travelling,’ he went on, addressing Yu-cun again. ‘You can set about hiring a boat for the journey straight away. How delightful it will be to meet again next winter when you have distinguished yourself by soaring to the top over all the other candidates!’

Yu-cun accepted the silver and the clothes with only the most perfunctory word of thanks and without, apparently, giving them a further moment’s thought, for he continued to drink and laugh and talk as if nothing had happened. It was well after midnight before they broke up.

After seeing Yu-cun off, Shi-yin went to bed and slept without a break until the sun was high in the sky next morning. When he awoke, his mind was still running on the conversation of the previous night. He thought he would write a couple of introductory letters for Yu-cun to take with him to the capital, and arrange for him to call on the family of an official he was acquainted with who might be able to put him up; but when he sent a servant to invite him over, the servant brought back word from the temple as follows:

‘The monk says that Mr Jia set out for the capital at five o’clock this morning, sir. He says he left a message to pass on to you. He said to tell you, “A scholar should not concern himself with almanacs, but should act as the situation demands,” and he said there wasn’t time to say good-bye.’

So Shi-yin was obliged to let the matter drop.

It is a true saying that ‘time in idleness is quickly spent’. In no time at all it was Fifteenth Night, and Shi-yin sent little Ying-lian out, in the charge of one of the servants called Calamity, to see the mummers and the coloured lanterns. It was near midnight when Calamity, feeling an urgent need to relieve his bladder, put Ying-lian down on someone’s doorstep while he went about his business, only to find, on his return, that the child was nowhere to be seen. Frantically he searched for her throughout the rest of the night; but when day dawned and he had still not found her, he took to his heels, not daring to face his master and mistress, and made off for another part of the country.

Shi-yin and his wife knew that something must be wrong when their little girl failed to return home all night. Then a search was made; but all those sent out were obliged in the end to report that no trace of her could be found.

The shock of so sudden a loss to a middle-aged couple who had only ever had the one daughter can be imagined. In tears every day and most of the night, they almost lost the will to go on living, and after about a month like this first Shi-yin and then his wife fell ill, so that doctors and diviners were in daily attendance on them.

Then, on the fifteenth of the third month, while frying cakes for an offering, the monk of Bottle-gourd Temple carelessly allowed the oil to catch alight, which set fire to the paper window. And, since the houses in this area all had wooden walls and bamboo fences – though also, doubtless, because they were doomed to destruction anyway – the fire leaped from house to house until the whole street was blazing away like a regular Fiery Mountain; and though the firemen came to put it out, by the time they arrived the fire was well under way and long past controlling, and roared away all night long until it had burnt itself out, rendering heaven knows how many families homeless in the process.

Poor Zhens! Though they and their handful of domestics escaped unhurt, their house, which was only next door to the temple, was soon reduced to a heap of rubble, while Shi-yin stood by helpless, groaning and stamping in despair.

After some discussion with his wife, Shi-yin decided that they should move to their farm in the country; but a series of crop failures due to flooding and drought had led to widespread brigandage in those parts, and government troops were out everywhere hunting down the mutinous peasants and making arrests. In such conditions it was impossible to settle on the farm, so Shi-yin sold the land and, taking only two of the maids with them, went with his wife to seek refuge with his father-in-law, Feng Su.

This Feng Su was a Ru-zhou man who, though only a farmer by calling, had a very comfortable sufficiency. He was somewhat displeased to see his son-in-law arriving like a refugee on his doorstep; but fortunately Shi-yin had on him the money he had realized from the sale of the farm, and this he now entrusted to his father-in-law to buy for him, as and when he could, a house and land on which he could depend for his future livelihood. Feng Su embezzled about half of this sum and used the other half to provide him with a ruinous cottage and some fields of poor, thin soil.

A scholar, with no experience of business or agricultural matters, Shi-yin now found himself poorer after a year or two of struggle than when he had started. Feng Su would treat him to a few pearls of rustic wisdom whenever they met, but behind his back would grumble to all and sundry about ‘incompetents’ and ‘people who liked their food but were too lazy to work for it’, which caused Shi-yin great bitterness when it came to his ears. The anxieties and injustices which now beset him, coming on top of the shocks he had suffered a year or two previously, left a man of his years with little resistance to the joint onslaught of poverty and ill-health, and gradually he began to betray the unmistakable symptoms of a decline.

One day, wishing to take his mind off his troubles for a bit, he had dragged himself, stick in hand, to the main road, when it chanced that he suddenly caught sight of a Taoist with a limp – a crazy, erratic figure in hempen sandals and tattered clothes, who chanted the following words to himself as he advanced towards him:

‘Men all know that salvation should be won,

But with ambition won’t have done, have done.

Where are the famous ones of days gone by?

In grassy graves they lie now, every one.

Men all know that salvation should be won,

But with their riches won’t have done, have done.

Each day they grumble they’ve not made enough.

When they’ve enough, it’s goodnight everyone!

Men all know that salvation should be won,

But with their loving wives they won’t have done.

The darlings every day protest their love:

But once you’re dead, they’re off with another one.

Men all know that salvation should be won,

But with their children won’t have done, have done.

Yet though of parents fond there is no lack,

Of grateful children saw I ne’er a one.’

Shi-yin approached the Taoist and questioned him. ‘What is all this you are saying? All I can make out is a lot of “won” and “done”.’

‘If you can make out “won” and “done”,’ replied the Taoist with a smile, ‘you may be said to have understood; for in all the affairs of this world what is won is done, and what is done is won; for whoever has not yet done has not yet won, and in order to have won, one must first have done. I shall call my song the “Won-Done Song”.’

Shi-yin had always been quick-witted, and on hearing these words a flash of understanding had illuminated his mind. He therefore smiled back at the Taoist: ‘Wait a minute! How would you like me to provide your “Won-Done Song” with a commentary?’

‘Please do!’ said the Taoist; and Shi-yin proceeded as follows:

‘Mean hovels and abandoned halls

Where courtiers once paid daily calls:

Bleak haunts where weeds and willows scarcely thrive

Were once with mirth and revelry alive.

Whilst cobwebs shroud the mansion’s gilded beams,

The cottage casement with choice muslin gleams.

Would you of perfumed elegance recite?

Even as you speak, the raven locks turn white.

Who yesterday her lord’s bones laid in clay,

On silken bridal-bed shall lie today.

Coffers with gold and silver filled:

Now, in a trice, a tramp by all reviled.

One at some other’s short life gives a sigh,

Not knowing that he, too, goes home – to die!

The sheltered and well-educated lad,

In spite of all your care, may turn out bad;

And the delicate, fastidious maid

End in a foul stews, plying a shameful trade.

The judge whose hat is too small for his head

Wears, in the end, a convict’s cangue instead.

Who shivering once in rags bemoaned his fate,

Today finds fault with scarlet robes of state.

In such commotion does the world’s theatre rage:

As each one leaves, another takes the stage.

In vain we roam:

Each in the end must call a strange land home.

Each of us with that poor girl may compare

Who sews a wedding-gown for another bride to wear.’

‘A very accurate commentary!’ cried the mad, lame Taoist, clapping his hands delightedly.

But Shi-yin merely snatched the satchel that hung from the other’s shoulder and slung it from his own, and with a shout of ‘Let’s go!’ and without even waiting to call back home, he strode off into the wide world in the company of the madman.

This event made a great uproar in the little town, and news of it was relayed from gossip to gossip until it reached the ears of Mrs Zhen, who cried herself into fits when she heard it. After consulting her father, she sent men out to inquire everywhere after her husband; but no news of him was to be had.

It was now imperative that she should move in with her parents and look to them for support. Fortunately she still had the two maids who had stayed on with her from the Soochow days, and by sewing and embroidering morning, noon and night, she and her women were able to make some contribution to her father’s income. The latter still found daily occasion to complain, but there was very little he could do about it.

One day the elder of the two maids was purchasing some silks at the door when she heard the criers clearing the street and all the people began to tell each other that the new mandarin had arrived. She hid in the doorway and watched the guards and runners marching past two by two. But when the mandarin in his black hat and scarlet robe of office was borne past in his great chair, she stared for some time as though puzzled. ‘Where have I seen that mandarin before?’ she wondered. ‘His face looks extraordinarily familiar.’ But presently she went into the house again and gave the matter no further thought.

That night, just as they were getting ready for bed, there was suddenly a great commotion at the door and a confused hubbub of voices shouting that someone was wanted at the yamen for questioning, which so terrified Feng Su that he was momentarily struck dumb and could only stare.

If you wish to know what further calamity this portended, you will have to read the following chapter.