第十七回至十八回

第十七回至十八回 大观园试才题对额 荣国府归省庆元宵

话说秦钟既死，宝玉痛哭不已，李贵等好容易劝解半日方住，归时犹是凄恻哀痛。贾母帮了几十两银子，外又另备奠仪，宝玉去吊纸[2]。七日后便送殡掩埋了，别无述记。只有宝玉日日思慕感悼，然亦无可如何了。

又不知历几何时，这日贾珍等来回贾政：“园内工程俱已告竣，大老爷已瞧过了，只等老爷瞧了〔二〕，或有不妥之处，再行改造，好题匾额对联的。”贾政听了，沉思一会，说道：“这匾额对联倒是一件难事。论理该请贵妃赐题才是，然贵妃若不亲睹其景，大约亦必不肯妄拟；若直待贵妃游幸[4]过再请题，偌大[5]景致，若干亭榭，无字标题，也觉寥落无趣，任有花柳山水，也断不能生色。”众清客在旁笑答道：“老世翁所见极是。如今我们有个愚见：各处匾额对联断不可少，亦断不可定名。如今且按其景致，或两字、三字、四字，虚合其意，拟了出来，暂且做灯匾联悬了。待贵妃游幸时，再请定名，岂不两全？”贾政等听了，都道：“所见不差。我们今日且看看去，只管题了，若妥当便用；不妥时，然后将雨村请来，令他再拟。”众人笑道：“老爷今日一拟定佳，何必又待雨村。”贾政笑道：“你们不知，我自幼于花鸟山水题咏上就平平；如今上了年纪，且案牍劳烦，于这怡情悦性文章上更生疏了。纵拟了出来，不免迂腐古板，反不能使花柳园亭生色，似不妥协，反没意思。”众清客笑道：“这也无妨。我们大家看了公拟，各举其长，优则存之，劣则删之，未为不可。”贾政道：“此论极是。且喜今日天气和暖，大家去逛逛。”说着起身，引众人前往。

贾珍先去园中知会众人。可巧近日宝玉因思念秦钟，忧戚不尽，贾母常命人带他到园中来戏耍。此时亦才进去，忽见贾珍走来，向他笑道：“你还不出去，老爷就来了。”宝玉听了，带着奶娘小厮们，一溜烟就出园来。方转过弯，顶头贾政引众客来了，躲之不及，只得一边站了。贾政近因闻得塾掌称赞宝玉专能对对联，虽不喜读书，偏倒有些歪才情似的，今日偶然撞见这机会，便命他跟来。宝玉只得随往，尚不知何意。

贾政刚至园门前，只见贾珍带领许多执事人来，一旁侍立。贾政道：“你且把园门都关上，我们先瞧了外面再进去。”贾珍听说，命人将门关了。贾政先秉正[6]看门。只见正门五间，上面桶瓦泥鳅脊[7]；那门栏窗槅，皆是细雕新鲜花样，并无朱粉涂饰；一色水磨群墙[8]，下面白石台矶，凿成西番草花样[9]。左右一望，皆雪白粉墙，下面虎皮石，随势砌去，果然不落富丽俗套，自是欢喜。遂命开门，只见迎面一带翠嶂挡在前面。众清客都道：“好山，好山！”贾政道：“非此一山，一进来园中所有之景悉入目中，则有何趣。”众人道：“极是。非胸中大有邱壑[10]，焉想及此。”说毕，往前一望，见白石崚嶒[11]，或如鬼怪，或如猛兽，纵横拱立，上面苔藓成斑，藤萝掩映，其中微露羊肠小径。贾政道：“我们就从此小径游去，回来由那一边出去，方可遍览。”

说毕，命贾珍在前引导，自己扶了宝玉，逶迤进入山口。抬头忽见山上有镜面白石一块，正是迎面留题处。贾政回头笑道：“诸公请看，此处题以何名方妙？”众人听说，也有说该题“叠翠”二字，也有说该题“锦嶂”的，又有说“赛香炉[12]”的，又有说“小终南[13]”的，种种名色，不止几十个。

原来众客心中早知贾政要试宝玉的功业进益如何，只将些俗套来敷衍。宝玉亦料定此意。贾政听了，便回头命宝玉拟来。宝玉道：“尝闻古人有云：‘编新不如述旧，刻古终胜雕今。’况此处并非主山正景，原无可题之处，不过是探景一进步耳。莫若直书‘曲径通幽处’[14]这句旧诗在上，倒还大方气派。”众人听了，都赞道：“是极！二世兄天分高，才情远，不似我们读腐了书的。”贾政笑道：“不可谬奖。他年小，不过以一知充十用，取笑罢了。再俟选拟。”

说着，进入石洞来。只见佳木茏葱，奇花灼，一带清流，从花木深处曲折泻于石隙之下。再进数步，渐向北边，平坦宽豁，两边飞楼插空，雕甍[15]绣槛，皆隐于山坳树杪[16]之间。俯而视之，则清溪泻雪，石磴穿云，白石为栏，环抱池沿，石桥三港[17]，兽面衔吐[18]。桥上有亭。贾政与诸人上了亭子，倚栏坐了，因问：“诸公以何题此？”诸人都道：“当日欧阳公《醉翁亭记》[19]有云：‘有亭翼然’，就名‘翼然’。”贾政笑道：“‘翼然’虽佳，但此亭压水而成，还须偏于水题方称。依我拙裁，欧阳公之‘泻出于两峰之间’，竟用他这一个‘泻’字。”有一客道：“是极，是极。竟是‘泻玉’二字妙。”贾政拈髯寻思，因抬头见宝玉侍侧，便笑命他也拟一个来。

宝玉听说，连忙回道：“老爷方才所议已是。但是如今追究了去，似乎当日欧阳公题酿泉用一‘泻’字则妥，今日此泉若亦用‘泻’字，则觉不妥。况此处虽云省亲驻跸别墅，亦当入于应制[20]之例，用此等字眼，亦觉粗陋不雅。求再拟较此蕴藉[21]含蓄者。”贾政笑道：“诸公听此论若何？方才众人编新，你又说不如述古；如今我们述古，你又说粗陋不妥。你且说你的来我听。”宝玉道：“有用‘泻玉’二字，则莫若‘沁芳’二字，岂不新雅？”贾政拈髯点头不语。众人都忙迎合，赞宝玉才情不凡。贾政道：“匾上二字容易。再作一副七言对联来。”宝玉听说，立于亭上，四顾一望，便机上心来，乃念道：

绕堤柳借三篙翠，隔岸花分一脉香。[22]

贾政听了，点头微笑。众人先称赞不已。

于是出亭过池，一山一石，一花一木，莫不着意观览。忽抬头看见前面一带粉垣，里面数楹[23]修舍，有千百竿翠竹遮映。众人都道：“好个所在！”于是大家进入，只见入门便是曲折游廊，阶下石子漫成甬路。上面小小两三间房舍，一明两暗，里面都是合着地步[24]打就的床几椅案。从里间房内又得一小门，出去则是后院，有大株梨花兼着芭蕉。又有两间小小退步[25]。后院墙下忽开一隙，得泉一派，开沟仅尺许，灌入墙内，绕阶缘屋至前院，盘旋竹下而出。贾政笑道：“这一处还罢了。若能月夜坐此窗下读书，不枉虚生一世。”说毕，看着宝玉，唬的宝玉忙垂了头。

众客忙用话开释，又说道：“此处的匾该题四个字。”贾政笑问：“那四字？”一个道是“淇水遗风”[26]。贾政道：“俗。”又一个是“睢园雅迹”[27]。贾政道：“也俗。”贾珍笑道：“还是宝兄弟拟一个来。”贾政道：“他未曾作，先要议论人家的好歹，可见就是个轻薄人。”众客道：“议论的极是，其奈他何。”贾政忙道：“休如此纵了他。”因命他道：“今日任你狂为乱道，先设议论来，然后方许你作。方才众人说的，可有使得的？”宝玉见问，答道：“都似不妥。”贾政冷笑道：“怎么不妥？”宝玉道：“这是第一处行幸之处，必须颂圣方可。若用四字的匾，又有古人现成的，何必再作。”贾政道：“难道‘淇水’‘睢园’不是古人的？”宝玉道：“这太板腐了。莫若‘有凤来仪’[28]四字。”众人都哄然叫妙。贾政点头道：“畜生，畜生，可谓‘管窥蠡测’[29]矣。”因命：“再题一联来。”宝玉便念道：

宝鼎茶闲烟尚绿，幽窗棋罢指犹凉。[30]

贾政摇头说道：“也未见长。”说毕，引众人出来。

方欲走时，忽又想起一事来，因问贾珍道：“这些院落房宇并几案桌椅都算有了，还有那些帐幔帘子并陈设玩器古董，可也都是一处一处合式配就的？”贾珍回道：“那陈设的东西早已添了许多，自然临期合式陈设。帐幔帘子，昨日听见琏兄弟说，还不全。那原是一起工程之时就画了各处的图样，量准尺寸，就打发人办去的。想必昨日得了一半。”贾政听了，便知此事不是贾珍的首尾[31]，便命人去唤贾琏。

一时，贾琏〔三〕赶来，贾政问他共有几种，现今得了几种，尚欠几种。贾琏见问，忙向靴桶取靴掖[33]内〔四〕装的一个纸折略节来，看了一看，回道：“妆蟒绣堆[35]、刻丝弹墨并各色绸绫大小幔子一百二十架，昨日得了八十架，下欠四十架。帘子二百挂，昨日俱得了。外有猩猩毡帘二百挂，金丝藤红漆竹帘二百挂，墨漆竹帘二百挂，五彩线络盘花帘二百挂，每样得了一半，也不过秋天都全了。椅搭、桌围、床裙、桌套，每分一千二百件，也有了。”

一面走，一面说，倏尔[36]青山斜阻。转过山怀中，隐隐露出一带黄泥筑就矮墙，墙头皆用稻茎掩护。有几百株杏花，如喷火蒸霞一般。里面数楹茅屋。外面却是桑、榆、槿、柘，各色树稚新条，随其曲折，编就两溜青篱。篱外山坡之下，有一土井，旁有桔槔辘轳[37]之属。下面分畦列亩，佳蔬菜花，漫然无际。

贾政笑道：“倒是此处有些道理。固然系人力穿凿，此时一见，未免勾引起我归农之意。我们且进去歇息歇息。”说毕，方欲进篱门去，忽见路旁有一石碣，亦为留题之备。众人笑道：“更妙，更妙！此处若悬匾待题，则田舍家风一洗尽矣。立此一碣，又觉生色许多，非范石湖田家之咏[38]不足以尽其妙。”贾政道：“诸公请题。”众人道：“方才世兄有云，‘编新不如述旧’，此处古人已道尽矣，莫若直书‘杏花村’[39]妙极。”贾政听了，笑向贾珍道：“正亏提醒了我。此处都妙极，只是还少一个酒幌[40]。明日竟作一个，不必华丽，就依外面村庄的式样作来，用竹竿挑在树梢。”贾珍答应了，又回道：“此处竟还不可养别的雀鸟，只是买些鹅鸭鸡类，才都相称了。”贾政与众人都道：“更妙。”贾政又向众人道：“‘杏花村’固佳，只是犯了正名[41]，村名直待请名方可。”众客都道：“是呀。如今虚的，便是什么字样好？”

大家想着，宝玉却等不得了，也不等贾政的命，便说道：“旧诗有云：‘红杏梢头挂酒旗’[42]。如今莫若‘杏帘在望’四字。”众人都道：“好个‘在望’！又暗合‘杏花村’意。”宝玉冷笑道：“村名若用‘杏花’二字，则俗陋不堪了。又有古人诗云：‘柴门临水稻花香’[43]，何不就用‘稻香村’的妙？”众人听了，亦发哄声拍手道：“妙！”贾政一声断喝：“无知的业障！你能知道几个古人〔五〕，能记得几首熟诗，也敢在老先生前卖弄！你方才那些胡说的，不过是试你的清浊，取笑而已，你就认真了！”

说着，引人步入茆堂[45]，里面纸窗木榻，富贵气象一洗皆尽。贾政心中自是欢喜，却瞅宝玉道，“此处如何？”众人见问，都忙悄悄的推宝玉，教他说好。宝玉不听人言，便应声道：“不及‘有凤来仪’多矣。”贾政听了道：“无知的蠢物！你只知朱楼画栋、恶赖[46]富丽为佳，那里知道这清幽气象。终是不读书之过！”宝玉忙答道：“老爷教训的固是，但古人常云‘天然’二字，不知何意？”

众人见宝玉牛心〔六〕[48]，都怪他呆痴不改。今见问“天然”二字，众人忙道：“别的都明白，为何连‘天然’不知？‘天然’者，天之自然而有，非人力之所成也。”宝玉道：“却又来！此处置一田庄，分明见得人力穿凿扭捏而成。远无邻村，近不负郭[49]，背山山无脉，临水水无源，高无隐寺之塔，下无通市之桥，峭然孤出，似非大观。争似先处有自然之理，得自然之气，虽种竹引泉，亦不伤于穿凿。古人云‘天然图画’四字，正畏非其地而强为地，非其山而强为山，虽百般精而终不相宜……”未及说完，贾政气的喝命：“叉出去！”刚出去，又喝命：“回来！”命：“再题一联，若不通，一并打嘴！”宝玉只得念道：

新涨绿添浣葛处，好云香护采芹人。[50]

贾政听了，摇头说：“更不好。”一面引人出来，转过山坡，穿花度柳，抚石依泉，过了荼架，再入木香棚，越牡丹亭，度芍药圃，入蔷薇院，出芭蕉坞，盘旋曲折。忽闻水声潺湲，泻出石洞，上则萝薜倒垂，下则落花浮荡。众人都道：“好景，好景！”贾政道：“诸公题以何名？”众人道：“再不必拟了，恰恰乎是‘武陵源’三个字。”贾政笑道：“又落实了，而且陈旧。”众人笑道：“不然就用‘秦人旧舍’[51]四字也罢了。”宝玉道：“这越发过露了。‘秦人旧舍’说避乱之意，如何使得？莫若‘蓼汀花溆’[52]四字。”贾政听了，更批胡说。

于是要进港洞时，又想起有船无船。贾珍道：“采莲船共四只，座船一只，如今尚未造成。”贾政笑道：“可惜不得入了。”贾珍道：“从山〔七〕上盘道亦可以进去。”说毕，在前导引，大家攀藤抚树过去。只见水上落花愈多，其水愈清，溶溶荡荡，曲折萦迂。池边两行垂柳，杂着桃杏，遮天蔽日，真无一些尘土。忽见柳阴中又露出一个折带朱栏板桥来，度过桥去，诸路可通，便见一所清凉瓦舍，一色水磨砖墙，清瓦花堵。那大主山所分之脉，皆穿墙而过。

贾政道：“此处这所房子，无味的很。”因而步入门时，忽迎面突出插天的大玲珑山石来，四面群绕各式石块，竟把里面所有房屋悉皆遮住，而且一株花木也无。只见许多异草：或有牵藤的，或有引蔓的，或垂山巅，或穿石隙，甚至垂檐绕柱，萦砌盘阶，或如翠带飘飘，或如金绳盘屈，或实若丹砂，或花如金桂，味芬气馥，非花香之可比。贾政不禁笑道〔八〕：“有趣！只是不大认识。”有的说：“是薜荔藤萝。”贾政道：“薜荔藤萝不得如此异香。”宝玉道：“果然不是。这些之中也有藤萝薜荔。那香的是杜若蘅芜，那一种大约是兰，这一种大约是清葛，那一种是金草，这一种是玉蕗藤，红的自然是紫芸，绿的定是青芷。想来《离骚》、《文选》[55]等书上所有的那些异草，也有叫作什么藿姜荨的，也有叫作什么纶组紫绛的，还有石帆、水松、扶留等样，又有叫什么绿荑的，还有什么丹椒、芜、风连。如今年深岁改，人不能识，故皆像形夺名，渐渐的唤差了，也是有的。”未及说完，贾政喝道：“谁问你来！”唬的宝玉倒退，不敢再说。

贾政因见两边俱是抄手游廊，便顺着游廊步入。只见上面五间清厦连着卷棚[56]，四面出廊，绿窗油壁，更比前几处清雅不同。贾政叹道：“此轩中煮茶操琴，亦不必再焚名香矣。此造已出意外，诸公必有佳作新题以颜其额[57]，方不负此。”众人笑道：“再莫若‘兰风蕙露’贴切了。”贾政道：“也只好用这四字。其联若何？”一人道：“我倒想了一对，大家批削改正。”念道是：

麝兰芳霭斜阳院，杜若香飘明月洲。

众人道：“妙则妙矣，只是‘斜阳’二字不妥。”那人道：“古人诗云‘蘼芜满手〔九〕泣斜晖’[59]。”众人道：“颓丧，颓丧。”又一人道：“我也有一联，诸公评阅评阅。”因念道：

三径[60]香风飘玉蕙，一庭明月照金兰。

贾政拈髯沉吟，意欲也题一联。忽抬头见宝玉在旁不敢则声，因喝道：“怎么你应说话时又不说了？还要等人请教你不成！”宝玉听说，便回道：“此处并没有什么‘兰麝’、‘明月’、‘洲渚’之类，若要这样着迹说起来，就题二百联也不能完。”贾政道：“谁按着你的头，叫你必定说这些字样呢？”宝玉道：“如此说，匾上则莫若‘蘅芷清芬’四字。”对联则是：

吟成荳蔻才犹艳〔一〇〕，睡足荼梦也香。[62]

贾政笑道：“这是套的‘书成蕉叶文犹绿’，不足为奇。”众客道：“李太白‘凤凰台’之作，全套‘黄鹤楼’[63]，只要套得妙。如今细评起来，方才这一联，竟比‘书成蕉叶’犹觉幽娴活泼。视‘书成’之句，竟似套此而来。”贾政笑说：“岂有此理！”

说着，大家出来。行不多远，则见崇阁巍峨，层楼高起，面面琳宫[64]合抱，迢迢复道[65]萦纡，青松拂檐，玉栏绕砌，金辉兽面，彩焕螭头[66]。贾政道：“这是正殿了，只是太富丽了些。”众人都道：“要如此方是。虽然贵妃崇节尚俭，天性恶繁悦朴，然今日之尊，礼仪如此，不为过也。”一面说，一面走，只见正面现出一座玉石牌坊来，上面龙蟠螭护，玲珑凿就。贾政道：“此处书以何文？”众人道：“必是‘蓬莱仙境’方妙。”贾政摇头不语。

宝玉见了这个所在，心中忽有所动，寻思起来，倒像那里曾见过的一般，却一时想不起那年月日的事了。贾政又命他作题，宝玉只顾细思前景，全无心于此了。众人不知其意，只当他受了这半日的折磨，精神耗散，才尽词穷了；再要考难逼迫，着了急，或生出事来，倒不便。遂忙都劝贾政：“罢，罢，明日再题罢了。”贾政心中也怕贾母不放心，遂冷笑道：“你这畜生，也竟有不能之时了。也罢，限你一日，明日若再不能，我定不饶。这是要紧一处，更要好生作来！”

说着，引人出来，再一观望，原来自进门起，所行至此，才游了十之五六。又值人来回，有雨村处遣人回话。贾政笑道：“此数处不能游了。虽如此，到底从那一边出去，纵不能细观，也可稍览。”说着，引客行来，至一大桥前，见水如晶帘一般奔入。原来这桥便是通外河之闸，引泉而入者。贾政因问：“此闸何名？”宝玉道：“此乃沁芳泉之正源，就名‘沁芳闸’。”贾政道：“胡说，偏不用‘沁芳’二字。”

于是一路行来，或清堂茅舍，或堆石为垣，或编花为牖，或山下得幽尼佛寺，或林中藏女道丹房[67]，或长廊曲洞，或方厦圆亭，贾政皆不及进去。因说半日腿酸，未尝歇息，忽又见前面又露出一所院落来，贾政笑道：“到此可要进去歇息歇息了。”说着，一径引人绕着碧桃花，穿过一层竹篱花障编就的月洞门，俄见粉墙环护，绿柳周垂。贾政与众人进去。

一入门，两边都是游廊相接。院中点衬几块山石，一边种着数本芭蕉；那一边乃是一颗西府海棠[68]，其势若伞，丝垂翠缕，葩吐丹砂。众人赞道：“好花，好花！从来也见过许多海棠，那里有这样妙的。”贾政道：“这叫作‘女儿棠’，乃是外国之种。俗传系出‘女儿国’中，云彼国此种最盛，亦荒唐不经之说罢了。”众人笑道：“然虽不经，如何此名传久了？”宝玉道：“大约骚人咏士，以此花之色红晕若施脂，轻弱似扶病，大近乎闺阁风度，所以以‘女儿’命名。想因被世间俗恶听了，他便以野史纂入为证，以俗传俗，以讹传讹，都认真了。”众人都摇身赞妙。

一面说话，一面都在廊外抱厦下打就的榻上坐了。贾政因问：“想几个什么新鲜字来题此？”一客道：“‘蕉鹤’二字最妙。”又一个道：“‘崇光泛彩’[69]方妙。”贾政与众人都道：“好个‘崇光泛彩’！”宝玉也道：“妙极。”又叹：“只是可惜了。”众人问：“如何可惜？”宝玉道：“此处蕉棠两植，其意暗蓄‘红’‘绿’二字在内。若只说蕉，则棠无着落；若只说棠，蕉亦无着落。固有蕉无棠不可，有棠无蕉更不可。”贾政道：“依你如何？”宝玉道：“依我，题‘红香绿玉’[70]四字，方两全其妙。”贾政摇头道：“不好，不好！”

说着，引人进入房内。只见这几间房内收拾的与别处不同，竟分不出间隔来的。原来四面皆是雕空玲珑木板，或“流云百蝠”[71]，或“岁寒三友”[72]，或山水人物，或翎毛花卉，或集锦[73]，或

博古[74]，或卍卍 [75]。各种花样，皆是名手雕镂，五彩销金嵌宝的。一槅一槅，或有贮书处，或有设鼎处，或安置笔砚处，或供花设瓶、安放盆景处。其槅各式各样，或天圆地方，或葵花蕉叶，或连环半璧。真是花团锦簇，剔透玲珑。倏尔五色纱糊就，竟系小窗；倏尔彩绫轻覆，竟系幽户。且满墙满壁，皆系随依古董玩器之形抠成的槽子。诸如琴、剑、悬瓶、桌屏之类，虽悬于壁，却都是与壁相平的。众人都赞：“好精致想头！难为怎么想来！”

原来贾政等走了进来，未进两层，便都迷了旧路，左瞧也有门可通，右瞧又有窗暂隔，及到了跟前，又被一架书挡住。回头再走，又有窗纱明透，门径可行；及至门前，忽见迎面也进来了一群人，都与自己形相一样，——却是一架玻璃大镜相照。及转过镜去，益发见门子多了。贾珍笑道：“老爷随我来。从这门出去，便是后院，从后院出去，倒比先近了。”说着，又转了两层纱橱锦槅，果得一门出去，院中满架蔷薇、宝相〔一一〕。转过花障，则见青溪前阻。众人诧异：“这股水又是从何而来？”贾珍遥指道：“原从那闸起流至那洞口，从东北山坳里引到那村庄里，又开一道岔口，引到西南上，共总流到这里，仍旧合在一处，从那墙下出去。”众人听了，都道：“神妙之极！”说着，忽见大山阻路。众人都道：“迷了路了。”贾珍笑道：“随我来。”仍在前导引，众人随他，直由山脚边忽一转，便是平坦宽阔大路，豁然大门前见。众人都道：“有趣，有趣，真搜神夺巧之至！”于是大家出来。

那宝玉一心只记挂着里边，又不见贾政吩咐，少不得跟到书房。贾政忽想起他来，方喝道：“你还不去？难道还逛不足！也不想逛了这半日，老太太必悬挂着。快进去，疼你也白疼了。”宝玉听说，方退了出来。

至院外，就有跟贾政的几个小厮上来拦腰抱住，都说：“今儿亏我们，老爷才喜欢，老太太打发人出来问了几遍，都亏我们回说喜欢；不然，若老太太叫你进去，就不得展才了。人人都说，你才那些诗比世人的都强。今儿得了这样的彩头[77]，该赏我们了。”宝玉笑道：“每人一吊钱。”众人道：“谁没见那一吊钱！把这荷包赏了罢。”说着，一个上来解荷包，那一个就解扇囊，不容分说，将宝玉所佩之物尽行解去。又道：“好生送上去罢。”一个抱了起来，几个围绕，送至贾母二门前。那时贾母已命人看了几次。众奶娘丫鬟跟上来，见过贾母，知不曾难为着他，心中自是欢喜。

少时袭人倒了茶来，见身边佩物一件无存，因笑道：“带的东西又是那起没脸的东西们解了去了。”林黛玉听说，走来瞧瞧，果然一件无存，因向宝玉道：“我给的那个荷包也给他们了？你明儿再想我的东西，可不能够了！”说毕，赌气回房，将前日宝玉所烦他作的那个香袋儿——才做了一半——赌气拿过来就铰。宝玉见他生气，便知不妥，忙赶过来，早剪破了。

宝玉已见过这香囊，虽尚未完，却十分精巧，费了许多工夫。今见无故剪了，却也可气。因忙把衣领解了，从里面红袄襟上将黛玉所给的那荷包解了下来，递与黛玉瞧道：“你瞧瞧，这是什么！我那一回把你的东西给人了？”林黛玉见他如此珍重，带在里面，可知是怕人拿去之意，因此又自悔莽撞，未见皂白，就剪了香袋。因此又愧又气，低头一言不发。宝玉道：“你也不用剪，我知道你是懒待给我东西。我连这荷包奉还，何如？”说着，掷向他怀中便走。黛玉见如此，越发气起来，声咽气堵，又汪汪的滚下泪来，拿起荷包来又剪。宝玉见他如此，忙回身抢住，笑道：“好妹妹，饶了他罢！”黛玉将剪子一摔，拭泪说道：“你不用同我好一阵歹一阵的，要恼，就撂开手。这当了[78]什么！”说着，赌气上床，面向里倒下拭泪。禁不住宝玉上来“妹妹”长“妹妹”短赔不是。

前面贾母一片声找宝玉。众奶娘丫鬟们忙回说：“在林姑娘房里呢。”贾母听说道：“好，好，好！让他姊妹们一处顽顽罢。才他老子拘了他这半天，让他开心一会子罢。只别叫他们拌嘴，不许扭了〔一二〕他。”众人答应着。黛玉被宝玉缠不过，只得起来道：“你的意思不叫我安生，我就离了你。”说着往外就走。宝玉笑道：“你到那里，我跟到那里。”一面仍拿起荷包来带上。黛玉伸手抢道：“你说不要了，这会子又带上，我也替你怪臊的！”说着，“嗤”的一声又笑了。宝玉道：“好妹妹，明儿另替我作个香袋儿罢。”黛玉道：“那也只瞧我高兴罢了。”一面说，一面二人出房，到王夫人上房中去了，可巧宝钗亦在那里。

此时王夫人那边热闹非常。原来贾蔷已从姑苏采买了十二个女孩子——并聘了教习——以及行头等事来了。那时薛姨妈另迁于东北上一所幽静房舍居住，将梨香院早已腾挪出来，另行修理了，就令教习在此教演女戏。又另派家中旧有曾演学过歌唱的女人们——如今皆已皤然[80]老妪了，着他们带领管理。就令贾蔷总理其日用出入银钱等事，以及诸凡大小所需之物料帐目。

又有林之孝家的来回〔一三〕：“采访聘买得十个小尼姑、小道姑都有了，连新作的二十分道袍也有了。外有一个带发修行的，本是苏州人氏，祖上也是读书仕宦之家。因生了这位姑娘自小多病，买了许多替身儿[82]皆不中用，足的[83]这位姑娘〔一四〕亲自入了空门，方才好了，所以带发修行，今年才十八岁，法名妙玉。如今父母俱已亡故，身边只有两个老嬷嬷、一个小丫头服侍。文墨也极通，经文也不用学了，模样儿又极好。因听见‘长安’都中有观音遗迹并贝叶遗文[85]，去岁随了师父上来，现在西门外牟尼院住着。他师父极精演先天神数[86]，于去冬圆寂[87]了。妙玉本欲扶灵回乡的，他师父临寂遗言，说他‘衣食起居不宜回乡，在此静居，后来自然有你的结果’。所以他竟未回乡。”王夫人不等回完，便说：“既这样，我们何不接了他来。”林之孝家的〔一五〕回道：“接他，他说‘侯门公府，必以贵势压人，我再不去的。’”王夫人笑道：“他既是官宦小姐，自然骄傲些，就下个帖子请他何妨。”林之孝家的答应了出去，命书启相公写请帖去请妙玉。次日遣人备车轿去接等后话，暂且搁过，此时不能表白。

当下又有人回，工程上等着糊东西的纱绫，请凤姐去开楼拣纱绫；又有人来回，请凤姐开库，收金银器皿。连王夫人并上房丫鬟等众，皆一时不得闲的。宝钗便说：“咱们别在这里碍手碍脚，找探丫头去。”说着，同宝玉黛玉往迎春等房中来闲顽，无话。

王夫人等日日忙乱，直到十月将尽，幸皆全备：各处监管都交清帐目；各处古董文玩，皆已陈设齐备；采办鸟雀的，自仙鹤、孔雀以及鹿、兔、鸡、鹅等类，悉已买全，交于园中各处像景饲养；贾蔷那边也演出二十出杂戏来；小尼姑、道姑也都学会了念几卷经咒〔一六〕。贾政方略心意宽畅，又请贾母等进园，色色斟酌，点缀妥当，再无一些遗漏不当之处了。于是贾政方择日题本[90]。本上之日，奉朱批准奏：次年正月十五上元之日，恩准贾妃省亲。贾府领了此恩旨，益发昼夜不闲，年也不曾好生过的。

展眼元宵在迩，自正月初八日，就有太监出来先看方向：何处更衣，何处燕坐[91]，何处受礼，何处开宴，何处退息。又有巡察地方总理关防太监等，带了许多小太监出来，各处关防，挡围幙；指示贾宅人员何处退，何处跪，何处进膳，何处启事，种种仪注不一。外面又有工部官员并五城兵备道打扫街道，撵逐闲人。贾赦等督率匠人扎花灯烟火之类，至十四日，俱已停妥。这一夜，上下通不曾睡。

至十五日五鼓，自贾母等有爵者，皆按品服大妆。园内各处，帐舞蟠龙，帘飞彩凤，金银焕彩，珠宝争辉，鼎焚百合之香，瓶插长春之蕊，静悄无人咳嗽。贾赦等在西街门外，贾母等在荣府大门外。街头巷口，俱系围幙挡严。正等的不耐烦，忽一太监坐大马而来，贾母忙接入，问其消息。太监道：“早多着呢！未初刻用过晚膳，未正二刻还到宝灵宫拜佛，酉初刻进大明宫领宴看灯方请旨，只怕戌初才起身呢。”凤姐听了道：“既这么着，老太太、太太且请回房，等是时候再来也不迟。”于是贾母等暂且自便，园中悉赖凤姐照理。又命执事人带领太监们去吃酒饭。

一时传人一担一担的挑进蜡烛来，各处点灯。方点完时，忽听外边马跑之声。一时，有十来个太监都喘吁吁跑来拍手儿。这些太监会意，都知道是“来了，来了”，各按方向站住。贾赦领合族子侄在西街门外，贾母领合族女眷在大门外迎接。

半日静悄悄的。忽见一对红衣太监骑马缓缓的走来，至西街门下了马，将马赶出围幙之外，便垂手面西站住。半日又是一对，亦是如此。少时便来了十来对，方闻得隐隐细乐之声。一对对龙旌凤翣，雉羽夔头[92]，又有销金提炉焚着御香；然后一把曲柄七凤黄金伞过来，便是冠袍带履。又有值事太监捧着香珠、绣帕、漱盂、拂尘等类。一队队过完，后面方是八个太监抬着一顶金顶金黄绣凤版舆，缓缓行来。贾母等连忙路旁跪下。早飞跑过几个太监来，扶起贾母、邢夫人、王夫人来。那版舆抬进大门，入仪门往东去，到一所院落门前，有执拂太监跪请下舆更衣。于是抬舆入门，太监等散去，只有昭容、彩嫔等引领元春下舆。只见院内各色花灯烂灼，皆系纱绫扎成，精致非常。上面有一匾灯，写着“体仁沐德”四字。元春入室，更衣毕复出，上舆进园。只见园中香烟缭绕，花彩缤纷，处处灯光相映，时时细乐声喧，说不尽这太平气象，富贵风流。

——此时自己回想当初在大荒山中，青埂峰下，那等凄凉寂寞；若不亏癞僧、跛道二人携来到此，又安能得见这般世面。本欲作一篇《灯月赋》、《省亲颂》，以志今日之事，但又恐入了别书的俗套。按此时之景，即作一赋一赞，也不能形容得尽其妙；即不作赋赞，其豪华富丽，观者诸公亦可想而知矣。所以倒是省了这工夫纸墨，且说正经的为是。

且说贾妃在轿内看此园内外如此豪华，因默默叹息奢华过费。忽又见执拂太监跪请登舟，贾妃乃下舆。只见清流一带，势如游龙，两边石栏上，皆系水晶玻璃各色风灯，点的如银花雪浪；上面柳杏诸树虽无花叶，然皆用通草[93]绸绫纸绢依势作成，粘于枝上的，每一株悬灯数盏；更兼池中荷荇凫鹭之属，亦皆系螺蚌羽毛之类作就的。诸灯上下争辉，真系玻璃世界，珠宝乾坤。船上亦系各种精致盆景诸灯，珠帘绣幙，桂楫兰桡[94]，自不必说。已而入一石港，港上一面匾灯，明现着“蓼汀花溆”四字。

按此四字并“有凤来仪”等处，皆系上回贾政偶然一试宝玉之课艺才情耳，何今日认真用此匾联？况贾政世代诗书，来往诸客屏侍座陪者，悉皆才技之流，岂无一名手题撰，竟用小儿一戏之辞苟且搪塞？真似暴发新荣之家，滥使银钱，一味抹油涂朱，毕则大书“前门绿柳垂金锁，后户青山列锦屏”之类，则以为大雅可观，岂《石头记》中通部所表之宁荣贾府所为哉！据此论之，竟大相矛盾了。诸公不知，待蠢物将原委说明，大家方知。

当日这贾妃未入宫时，自幼亦系贾母教养。后来添了宝玉，贾妃乃长姊，宝玉为弱弟，贾妃之心上念母年将迈〔一七〕，始得此弟，是以怜爱宝玉，与诸弟待之不同。且同随祖母，刻未暂离。那宝玉未入学堂之先，三四岁时，已得贾妃手引口传，教授了几本书、数千字在腹内了。其名分虽系姊弟，其情状有如母子。自入宫后，时时带信出来与父母说：“千万好生扶养，不严不能成器，过严恐生不虞，且致父母之忧。”眷念切爱之心，刻未能忘。前日贾政闻塾师背后赞宝玉偏才尽有，贾政未信，适巧遇园已落成，令其题撰，聊一试其情思之清浊。其所拟之匾联虽非妙句，在幼童为之，亦或可取。即另使名公大笔为之，固不费难，然想来倒不如这本家风味有趣。更使贾妃见之，知系其爱弟所为，亦或不负其素日切望之意。因有这段原委，故此竟用了宝玉所题之联额。那日虽未曾题完，后来亦曾补拟。

闲文少述，且说贾妃看了四字，笑道：“‘花溆’二字便妥，何必‘蓼汀’？”侍座太监听了，忙下小舟登岸，飞传与贾政。贾政听了，即忙移换。

一时，舟临内岸，复弃舟上舆，便见琳宫绰约[96]，桂殿巍峨。石牌坊上明显“天仙宝境”四字，贾妃忙命换“省亲别墅”四字。于是进入行宫[97]。但见庭燎[98]烧空，香屑布地，火树琪花[99]，金窗玉槛。说不尽帘卷虾须，毯铺鱼獭[100]，鼎飘麝脑之香，屏列雉尾之扇。真是：

金门玉户神仙府，桂殿兰宫妃子家。

贾妃乃问：“此殿何无匾额？”随侍太监跪启曰：“此系正殿，外臣未敢擅拟。”贾妃点头不语。礼仪太监跪请升座受礼，两陛乐起。礼仪太监二人引贾赦、贾政等于月台[101]下排班，殿上昭容传谕曰：“免。”太监引贾赦等退出。又有太监引荣国太君及女眷等自东阶升月台上排班，昭容再传谕曰：“免。”于是引退。

茶已三献，贾妃降座，乐止。退入侧殿更衣，方备省亲车驾出园。至贾母正室，欲行家礼，贾母等俱跪止不迭。贾妃满眼垂泪，方彼此上前厮见，一手搀贾母，一手搀王夫人，三个人满心里皆有许多话，只是俱说不出，只管呜咽对泣。邢夫人、李纨、王熙凤、迎、探、惜三姊妹等，俱在旁围绕，垂泪无言。

半日，贾妃方忍悲强笑，安慰贾母、王夫人道：“当日既送我到那不得见人的去处，好容易今日回家娘儿们一会，不说说笑笑，反倒哭起来。一会子我去了，又不知多早晚才来！”说到这句，不禁又哽咽起来。邢夫人等忙上来解劝。贾母等让贾妃归座，又逐次一一见过，又不免哭泣一番。然后东西两府掌家执事人丁在厅外行礼，及两府掌家执事媳妇领丫鬟等行礼毕。贾妃因问：“薛姨妈、宝钗、黛玉因何不见？”王夫人启曰：“外眷无职，未敢擅入。”贾妃听了，忙命快请。一时，薛姨妈等进来，欲行国礼，亦命免过，上前各叙阔别寒温。又有贾妃原带进宫去的丫鬟抱琴等上来叩见，贾母等连忙扶起，命人别室款待。执事太监及彩嫔、昭容各侍从人等，宁国府及贾赦那宅两处自有人款待，只留三四个小太监答应。母女姊妹深叙些离别情景，及家务私情。

又有贾政至帘外问安，贾妃垂帘行参等事。又隔帘含泪谓其父曰：“田舍之家，虽齑盐布帛[102]，终能聚天伦之乐；今虽富贵已极，骨肉各方，然终无意趣！”贾政亦含泪启道：“臣，草莽寒门，鸠群鸦属之中，岂意得征凤鸾之瑞[103]。今贵人上锡天恩，下昭祖德，此皆山川日月之精奇、祖宗之远德钟于一人，幸及政夫妇。且今上启天地生物之大德，垂古今未有之旷恩，虽肝脑涂地，臣子岂能得报于万一！惟朝乾夕惕[104]，忠于厥[105]职外，愿我君万寿千秋，乃天下苍生之同幸也。贵妃切勿以政夫妇残犁〔一八〕为念，懑愤金怀[107]，更祈自加珍爱。惟业业兢兢，勤慎恭肃以侍上，庶不负上体贴眷爱如此之隆恩也。”贾妃亦嘱“只以国事为重，暇时保养，切勿记念”等语。

贾政又启：“园中所有亭台轩馆，皆系宝玉所题；如果有一二稍可寓目者，请别赐名为幸。”元妃听了宝玉能题，便含笑说：“果进益了。”贾政退出。贾妃见宝、林二人亦发比别姊妹不同，真是姣花软玉一般。因问：“宝玉为何不进见？”贾母乃启：“无谕，外男不敢擅入。”元妃命快引进来。小太监出去引宝玉进来，先行国礼毕，元妃命他进前，携手揽于怀内，又抚其头颈笑道：“比先竟长了好些……”一语未终，泪如雨下。

尤氏、凤姐等上来启道：“筵宴齐备，请贵妃游幸。”元妃等起身，命宝玉导引，遂同诸人步至园门前。早见灯光火树之中，诸般罗列非常。进园来先从“有凤来仪”、“红香绿玉”、“杏帘在望”、“蘅芷清芬”等处，登楼步阁，涉水缘山，百般眺览徘徊。一处处铺陈不一，一桩桩点缀新奇。贾妃极加奖赞，又劝：“以后不可太奢，此皆过分之极。”已而至正殿，谕免礼归座，大开筵宴。贾母等在下相陪，尤氏、李纨、凤姐等亲捧羹把盏。

元妃乃命传笔砚伺候，亲搦湘管，择其几处最喜者赐名。按其书云：

“顾恩思义”匾额

“天地启宏慈，赤子苍头[108]同感戴；

古今垂旷典〔一九〕[110]，九州万国被恩荣。”此一匾一联书于正殿

“大观园”园之名

“有凤来仪”赐名曰“潇湘馆”

“红香绿玉”改作“怡红快绿”即名曰“怡红院”

“蘅芷清芬”赐名曰“蘅芜苑”

“杏帘在望”赐名曰“浣葛山庄”

正楼曰“大观楼”，东面飞楼曰“缀锦阁”，西面斜楼曰“含芳阁”；更有“蓼风轩”、“藕香榭”、“紫菱洲”、“荇叶渚”等名；又有四字的匾额十数个，诸如“梨花春雨”、“桐剪秋风”、“荻芦夜雪”等名，此时悉难全记。又命旧有匾联俱不必摘去。于是先题一绝云：

衔山抱水建来精，多少工夫筑始成。

天上人间诸景备，芳园应锡[111]大观名。

写毕，向诸姊妹笑道：“我素乏捷才，且不长于吟咏，妹辈素所深知。今夜聊以塞责，不负斯景而已。异日少暇，必补撰《大观园记》并《省亲颂》等文，以记今日之事。妹辈亦各题一匾一诗，随才之长短，亦暂吟成，不可因我微才所缚。且喜宝玉竟知题咏，是我意外之想。此中‘潇湘馆’、‘蘅芜苑’二处，我所极爱，次之‘怡红院’、‘浣葛山庄’，此四大处，必得别有章句题咏方妙。前所题之联虽佳，如今再各赋五言律一首，使我当面试过，方不负我自幼教授之苦心。”宝玉只得答应了，下来自去构思。

迎、探、惜三人之中，要算探春又出于姊妹之上，然自忖亦难与薛林争衡，只得勉强随众塞责而已。李纨也勉强凑成一律。贾妃先挨次看姊妹们的，写道是：

旷性怡情匾额 迎　春

园成景备特精奇，奉命羞题额旷怡。

谁信世间有此境，游来宁不[112]畅神思？

万象争辉匾额 探　春

名园筑出势巍巍，奉命何惭学浅微。

精妙一时言不出，果然万物生光辉。

文章造化[113]匾额 惜　春

山水横拖[114]千里外，楼台高起五云中。

园修日月光辉[115]里，景夺文章造化功。

文采风流匾额 李　纨

秀水明山抱复回，风流文采胜蓬莱[116]。

绿裁歌扇迷芳草，红衬湘裙舞落梅。[117]

珠玉自应传盛世[118]，神仙何幸下瑶台[119]。

名园一自邀[120]游赏，未许凡人到此来。

凝晖钟瑞[121]匾额 薛宝钗

芳园筑向帝城西，华日祥云笼罩奇。

高柳喜迁莺出谷，修篁时待凤来仪。[122]

文风已著宸游夕，孝化应隆归省时。[123]

睿藻[124]仙才盈彩笔，自惭何敢再为辞。

世外仙源匾额 林黛玉

名园筑何处，仙境别红尘。

借得山川秀，添来景物新。

香融金谷酒[125]，花媚玉堂人[126]。

何幸邀恩宠，宫车过往频。

贾妃看毕，称赏一番，又笑道：“终是薛林二妹之作与众不同，非愚姊妹可同列者。”原来林黛玉安心今夜大展奇才，将众人压倒，不想贾妃只命一匾一咏，倒不好违谕多作，只胡乱作一首五言律应景罢了。

彼时宝玉尚未作完，只刚作了“潇湘馆”与“蘅芜苑”二首，正作“怡红院”一首，起草内有“绿玉春犹卷”一句。宝钗转眼瞥见，便趁众人不理论[127]，急忙回身悄推他道：“他因不喜‘红香绿玉’四字，改了‘怡红快绿’；你这会子偏用‘绿玉’二字，岂不是有意和他争驰了？况且蕉叶之说也颇多，再想一个字改了罢。”宝玉见宝钗如此说，便拭汗道：“我这会子总想不起什么典故出处来。”宝钗笑道：“你只把‘绿玉’的‘玉’字改作‘蜡’字就是了。”宝玉道：“‘绿蜡’可有出处？”宝钗见问，悄悄的咂嘴点头笑道：“亏你，今夜不过如此，将来金殿对策[128]，你大约连‘赵钱孙李’[129]都忘了呢！唐钱珝〔二〇〕咏芭蕉诗[131]头一句：‘冷烛无烟绿蜡干’，你都忘了不成？”宝玉听了，不觉洞开心臆，笑道：“该死，该死！现成眼前之物偏倒想不起来了，真可谓‘一字师’[132]了。从此后我只叫你师父，再不叫姐姐了。”宝钗亦悄悄的笑道：“还不快作上去，只管姐姐妹妹的。谁是你姐姐，那上头穿黄袍的〔二一〕才是你姐姐！你又认我这姐姐来了。”一面说笑，因说笑又怕他耽延工夫，遂抽身走开了。宝玉只得续成，共有了三首。

此时林黛玉未得展其抱负，自是不快。因见宝玉独作四律，大费神思，何不代他作两首，也省他些精神不到之处〔二二〕。想着，便也走至宝玉案旁，悄问：“可都有了？”宝玉道：“才有了三首，只少‘杏帘在望’一首了。”黛玉道：“既如此，你只抄录前三首罢。赶你写完那三首，我也替你作出这首了。”说毕，低头一想，早已吟成一律，便写在纸条上，搓成个团子，掷在他跟前。宝玉打开一看，只觉此首比自己所作的三首高过十倍，真是喜出望外，遂忙恭楷呈上。贾妃看道：

　有凤来仪 臣　宝玉谨题

秀玉[135]初成实，堪宜待凤凰。

竿竿青欲滴，个个[136]绿生凉。

迸砌妨阶水〔二三〕，穿帘碍鼎香。[138]

莫摇清碎影，好梦昼初长。

　蘅芷[139]清芬

蘅芜满净苑，萝薜助芬芳。

软衬三春草，柔拖一缕香。[140]

轻烟[141]迷曲径，冷翠[142]滴回廊。

谁谓池塘曲，谢家幽梦长。[143]

　怡红快绿

深庭长日静，两两[144]出婵娟。

绿蜡春犹卷，红妆夜未眠。[145]

凭栏垂绛袖，倚石护青烟。[146]

对立东风里，主人应解怜[147]。

　杏帘在望

杏帘招客饮，在望有山庄。

菱荇鹅儿水，桑榆燕子梁。[148]

一畦春韭绿，十里稻花香。

盛世无饥馁，何须耕织忙。

贾妃看毕，喜之不尽，说：“果然进益了！”又指“杏帘”一首为前三首之冠，遂将“浣葛山庄”改为“稻香村”。又命探春另以彩笺誊录出方才一共十数首诗，出令太监传与外厢。贾政等看了，都称颂不已。贾政又进《归省颂》。元春又命以琼酥金脍等物，赐与宝玉并贾兰。此时贾兰极幼，未达诸事，只不过随母依叔行礼，故无别传。贾环从年内染病未痊，自有闲处调养，故亦无传。

那时贾蔷带领十二个女戏，在楼下正等的不耐烦，只见一太监飞跑来说：“作完了诗，快拿戏目来！”贾蔷急将锦册呈上，并十二个花名单子。少时，太监出来，只点了四出戏：

第一出，《豪宴》；第二出，《乞巧》；

第三出，《仙缘》；第四出，《离魂》。[149]

贾蔷忙张罗扮演起来。一个个歌欺裂石之音[150]，舞有天魔之态。虽是妆演的形容，却作尽悲欢情状。刚演完了，一太监执一金盘糕点之属进来，问：“谁是龄官？”贾蔷便知是赐龄官之物，喜的忙接了，命龄官叩头。太监又道：“贵妃有谕，说‘龄官极好，再作两出戏，不拘那两出就是了’。”贾蔷忙答应了，因命龄官作《游园》、《惊梦》[151]二出。龄官自为此二出原非本角之戏，执意不作，定要作《相约》、《相骂》[152]二出。贾蔷扭他不过，只得依他作了。贾妃甚喜，命“不可难为了这女孩子，好生教习”，额外赏了两匹宫缎、两个荷包并金银锞子、食物之类。然后撤筵，将未到之处复又游顽。忽见山环佛寺，忙另盥手进去焚香拜佛，又题一匾云：“苦海慈航”[153]。又额外加恩与一般幽尼女道。

少时，太监跪启：“赐物俱齐，请验等例。”乃呈上略节。贾妃从头看了，俱甚妥协，即命照此遵行。太监听了，下来一一发放。原来贾母的是金、玉如意各一柄，沉香拐拄一根，伽楠念珠一串，“富贵长春”宫缎四匹，“福寿绵长”宫绸四匹，紫金“笔锭如意”[154]锞十锭，“吉庆有鱼”[155]银锞十锭。邢夫人、王夫人二分，只减了如意、拐、珠四样。贾敬、贾赦、贾政等，每分御制新书二部，宝墨二匣，金、银爵[156]各二只，表礼按前。宝钗、黛玉诸姊妹等，每人新书一部，宝砚一方，新样格式金银锞二对。宝玉亦同此。贾兰则是金银项圈二个，金银锞二对。尤氏、李纨、凤姐等，皆金银锞四锭，表礼四端。外表礼二十四端，清钱一百串，是赐与贾母、王夫人及诸姊妹房中奶娘众丫鬟的。贾珍、贾琏、贾环、贾蓉等，皆是表礼一分，金锞一双。其馀彩缎百端[157]，金银千两，御酒华筵，是赐东西两府凡园中管理工程、陈设、答应[158]及司戏、掌灯诸人的。外有清钱五百串，是赐厨役、优伶、百戏、杂行人丁的。

众人谢恩已毕，执事太监启道：“时已丑正三刻，请驾回銮。”贾妃听了，不由的满眼又滚下泪来。却又勉强堆笑，拉住贾母、王夫人的手，紧紧的不忍释放，再四叮咛：“不须挂念，好生自养。如今天恩浩荡，一月许进内省视一次，见面是尽有的，何必伤惨。倘明岁天恩仍许归省，万不可如此奢华靡费了！”贾母等已哭的哽噎难言了。贾妃虽不忍别，怎奈皇家规范，违错不得，只得忍心上舆去了。这里诸人好容易将贾母、王夫人安慰解劝，搀扶出园去了。正是——

〔一〕 《红楼梦》最初的稿本第十七、十八、十九回未分开。己卯、庚辰本第十九回虽已分出，但回首无书名、回次、回目；第十七至十八回则仍未分开，回次作“第十七回至十八回”，回目为“大观园试才题对额，荣国府归省庆元宵”。这两个抄本回前另页纸上均有批语：“此回宜分二回方妥。”己卯本在贾府接妙玉一段文字之后，有朱笔眉批：“‘不能表白’后是第十八回的起头。”甲辰、程甲、程乙本就是从这里分回的，第十七回回目仍用的是原来的回目，第十八回回目作“皇恩重元妃省父母，天伦乐宝玉呈才藻”（有一种程高本“呈才藻”作“献词华”）。舒序本在元春进大观园和“叹奢华过费”之间分回，第十七回回目上联照旧，下联为“荣国府奉旨赐归宁”，第十八回回目作“隔珠帘父女勉忠勤，搦湘管姊弟裁题咏”。梦稿、蒙府、戚序本则在贾宝玉游园题对额结束“方退了出来”句下分回。梦稿本第十七回回目作“会芳园试才题对额，贾宝玉机敏动诸宾”，第十八回回目为“林黛玉误剪香囊袋，贾元春归省庆元宵”。蒙府、戚序本第十七回回目作“大观园试才题对额，怡红院迷路探曲折”，第十八回回目为“庆元宵贾元春归省，助情人林黛玉传诗”。今据底本不予分回。

己卯、蒙府、戚序与底本第十七回前另页纸上抄录有一首题诗：“豪华虽足羡，离别却难堪。博得虚名在，谁人识苦甘。”这首诗是题第十七、十八两回的，梦稿本将这首诗移在第十七回回目之后。今录于此备考。

[2] 吊纸——这里指在死者灵前烧纸吊祭。

〔二〕 “大老爷已瞧过了，只等老爷瞧了”，原作“大老爷瞧了”，从舒序、甲辰本增。

[4] 游幸——旧称帝王、后妃的行动所至为“幸”，如到某地称“幸某地”，游赏称“游幸”。

[5] 偌（ruò若）大——这么大。偌：如此，这样。

[6] 秉正——这里是摆正了姿势、选正了位置的意思。秉：执；把握。

[7] 桶瓦泥鳅脊——古建筑术语称“桶瓦硬山卷棚式”。桶瓦：半圆筒形的瓦。泥鳅脊：屋面两坡桶瓦垄过脊时呈卷棚式，状如泥鳅。

[8] 水磨群墙——窗台和腰线石以下的墙体称群墙，用磨砖对缝作法砌筑。

[9] 西番草花样——一种连续不断的西番草图案。西番草即西番莲，常绿缠绕植物，夏季开花，也叫缠枝莲。

[10] 胸中大有邱壑——《世说新语·巧艺》：“顾长康（顾恺之）画谢幼舆在岩石里，人问其所以，顾曰：‘谢云：“一丘一壑自谓过之”，此子宜置丘壑中。’”后遂以“胸中自有丘壑”喻人胸有才识、意致深远。

[11] 崚嶒（lénɡ　cénɡ棱层）——形容山石怪异突兀。

[12] 香炉——指江西庐山香炉峰，其形圆耸，气霭若烟，因称香炉峰。峰下有瀑布，著称于世。

[13] 终南——终南山，横亘陕西南部，主峰在西安市南，山势高峻奇幻。

[14] 曲径通幽处——见唐代常建《题破山寺后禅院》诗。一作“竹径通幽处”。

[15] 甍（ménɡ蒙）——屋脊。《释名》：“屋脊曰甍。甍：蒙也，在上覆蒙屋也。”

[16] 杪（miǎo秒）——树梢。

[17] 港——这里读作hònɡ（哄），通水的孔洞，此指桥洞。

[18] 兽面衔吐——旧时大宅门上铜环，多铸兽头衔之，称为兽环。此指桥侧兽面石雕，作张口状。

[19] 欧阳公《醉翁亭记》——宋代欧阳修的一篇著名游记。醉翁亭：在安徽滁县西南。醉翁：欧阳修的自号。下文所引的“有亭翼然”、“酿泉”，“泻出于两峰之间”等句都见于该文。

[20] 应制——这里指奉帝王诏命而作的诗文，多为歌功颂德之作。

[21] 蕴藉（yùn　jiè运借）——含蓄不露，耐人寻味。

[22] “绕堤”一联——从上下文看，此联与“沁芳”一匾相配，意在题水，但字面上并不直接说出。“三篙”、“一脉”都代指流水。全句说绕堤翠柳映得水光澄碧，隔岸花香沁得流水芬芳。

[23] 楹（yínɡ盈）——堂前柱子。房屋一间也叫一楹。

[24] “合着地步”句——指根据房间的大小、方位等具体情况配制家具。

[25] 退步——这里指套间一类可作退居之所的附属建筑。

[26] 淇水遗风——淇水在河南省北部。《诗·卫风·淇奥》：“瞻彼淇奥，绿竹猗猗。有匪君子，如切如磋，如琢如磨。……”《诗序》认为此诗是颂扬卫武公的学识德行的。这里以“淇水遗风”题匾，照应潇湘馆的千竿翠竹，同时称颂屋主人有诗中“君子”那样的文采风度。

[27] 睢（suī虽）园雅迹——睢园：汉代梁孝王刘武在睢阳（今河南商丘）所造的花园，即梁园，又名修竹园。梁孝王好宾客，司马相如、枚乘等辞赋家皆曾被延居园中，吟咏游赏。这里题“睢园雅迹”是从景物多竹及人物风雅想来。

[28] 有凤来仪——《尚书·益稷》：“箫韶九成，凤凰来仪。”箫韶：舜所制的音乐；乐一终为一成。意思是箫韶的乐曲演奏了九章，凤凰都鸣叫着配合乐声起舞。凤凰是传说中祥瑞的灵鸟，又是后妃的象征，用在此处正合“颂圣”的要求。仪：来、招来、归来。来仪，为同义连文。

[29] 管窥蠡（lí离）测——《汉书·东方朔传》：“以筦（管）（窥）天，以蠡测海。”意思是从管子里看天，用瓢量海水。比喻见识短浅。蠡：瓠瓢。

[30] “宝鼎”一联——此联说烹茶鼎炉绿烟袅袅，窗下着棋指头生凉；而“茶闲”“棋罢”之后尚觉烟绿指凉，正是因为窗外有“千百竿翠竹遮映”。意在写竹子茂密幽深。

[31] 首尾——事情的始末。这里是经办的意思。

〔三〕 “一时，贾琏”，原无，从己卯、梦稿、舒序本补。

[33] 靴掖——塞掖在靴筒内的小夹子，用皮革或绸缎制成，可装名帖、钱票等物。

〔四〕 “忙向靴桶取靴掖内”，原作“向靴桶内取靴掖内”，从甲辰本改。

[35] 妆蟒绣堆——妆蟒指妆缎和蟒缎，织有普通图案的叫妆缎，织有蟒形花纹的叫蟒缎。绣堆指用绣花和堆花这两种不同的工艺方法制作的花绣织品。

[36] 倏（shū书）尔——忽然间。倏：急速。

[37] 桔槔（ɡāo高）辘轳——桔槔：用杠杆的井上汲水工具。辘轳：用滑轮的井上汲水工具。

[38] 范石湖田家之咏——范石湖即宋代诗人范成大，自号石湖居士，有《石湖诗集》。他晚年所作的《四时田园杂兴》描写田家生活、景物，最被人们传诵。

[39] 杏花村——出自唐代杜牧《清明》诗：“借问酒家何处有，牧童遥指杏花村。”

[40] 酒幌（huǎnɡ晃）——也作酒帘、酒旗，即酒家的招牌，以竹竿挑布帘，挂在门首。

[41] 犯了正名——这里或指园中景物题名不应直用前人已有的“杏花村”之名，否则即与之相犯，失之浅俗。犯：与应避忌的法则相抵触的意思。

[42] 红杏梢头挂酒旗——见明代唐寅《题杏林春燕》诗。

[43] 柴门临水稻花香——见唐代许浑《晚自朝台津至韦隐居郊园》诗。

〔五〕 “你能知道几个古人”，原作“你能知记得知道几个古人”，“知”、“记得”均点去。从梦稿本改。

[45] 茆堂——即茅堂。“茆”同“茅”。

[46] 恶赖——庸俗鄙劣。

〔六〕 “牛心”，原无，从梦稿、舒序本补。

[48] 牛心——犟；死心眼儿。

[49] 负郭——靠近城郭。负：这里是背倚的意思。

[50] “新涨”一联——新涨：新涨的春水。浣（huàn换）：洗涤。葛：一种蔓生植物，纤维可以织布。浣葛：化用《诗·周南·葛覃》“薄浣我衣”，这里借以称颂妇德。好云：喻稻香村“喷火蒸霞一般”的杏花，又隐寓盛德。采芹：《诗·鲁颂·泮水》：“思乐泮水，薄采其芹。”泮水，泮宫之水。泮宫即学宫，后人把考中秀才入学宫称“入泮”或“采芹”。这里“采芹人”指贾府的读书人。

[51] 武陵源、秦人旧舍——武陵源即桃花源。晋陶渊明《桃花源记》叙武陵捕鱼者无意中走入桃花源，见其中居民往来耕作怡然自乐，自称“先世避秦时乱”来到这个与世隔绝的地方。所谓“‘秦人旧舍’说避乱之意”即指此。

[52] 蓼（liǎo了）汀花溆（xù序）——“蓼汀”当从唐代罗邺《雁》诗“暮天新雁起汀洲，红蓼花开水国愁”想来。汀：汀洲，水边平沙。溆：浦；水边。

〔七〕 “山”字原无，从梦稿、舒序、甲辰本补。

〔八〕 “笑道”，原无“笑”字，从蒙府、戚序本补。

[55] 《离骚》、《文选》——《离骚》：战国时代楚国诗人屈原的代表作，其中写了许多香草，象征作者所追求的理想和美德。《文选》：即《昭明文选》，南朝梁昭明太子萧统选编，为现存最早的一部诗文选集。

[56] 五间清厦连着卷（juǎn）棚——“卷棚”是建筑术语，指一种没有正脊的屋面做法，即屋面两坡的连接处不用正脊压盖，而呈一个弧形的转折。这里“连着卷棚”疑为“连搭卷棚”。“连搭”正名作“钩连搭”，也是建筑术语，指两个或两个以上的卷棚屋面连接在一起。“五间清厦连着卷棚”可解为五开间的两卷钩连搭屋面的建筑形式。

[57] 以颜其额——在匾额上题字。颜：这里用作动词，即题字其上。额：匾。

〔九〕 “满手”，己卯、梦稿、蒙府、戚宁、舒序本并同。甲辰、戚序、程甲本作“满院”。底本原作“满手”，“手”点改为“院”。

[59] 蘼芜满手泣斜晖——句出唐代鱼玄机《闺怨》：“蘼芜盈手泣斜晖，闻道邻家夫婿归。”

[60] 三径——汉代蒋诩（xǔ许）归里隐居，荆棘塞门，于舍中竹下开三径，只与求仲、羊仲二人交往。见《三辅决录》。后常以“三径”泛指庭园间小路。

〔一〇〕 “才犹艳”，原“才”点改为“诗”。己卯、梦稿、蒙府、戚宁本均作“才犹艳”，从。甲辰、戚序本作“诗犹艳”。

[62] “吟成”一联——荳蔻：多年生草本植物，初夏开花成穗状，初为嫩叶所卷，叶渐展花渐开，俗称其未盛开者为“含胎花”，以喻少女。艳：丰满、光彩。上句说吟成荳蔻诗后才思还很旺盛。荼（tú　mí图迷）：初夏开花，朵大色白，清香馥郁。其枝条软垂，常倚架而生。下句是荼架下香梦沉酣的意思。

[63] 李太白“凤凰台”之作，全套“黄鹤楼”——李白《登金陵凤凰台》一诗，在遣词造句方面套用了崔颢的《黄鹤楼》诗。《黄鹤楼》曾被誉为唐人七律之冠，但李白诗仍能自出新意，寄托深远，故这里说“套得妙”。

[64] 琳宫——神仙所居之处，这里是说宫室瑰丽犹如仙境。

[65] 复道——楼阁之间架空连接的通道。

[66] 螭头——用于建筑或器物上的装饰部件。螭：传说中无角的龙。

[67] 丹房——道士炼丹的处所。

[68] 西府海棠——海棠名贵品种之一，枝梗略坚，花色稍红，“西府”中名“紫绵”者色重瓣多，尤为上品。见《群芳谱》。

[69] 崇光泛彩——苏轼《海棠》诗有“东风渺渺泛崇光”之句，写月光笼罩下的海棠。这里借此诗意点海棠，但“有棠无蕉”，不能兼顾“蕉棠两植”的景物，故宝玉不满意。

[70] 红香绿玉——海棠无香，故“香”非指香气，乃指香烛，属名词。这里是一个并列短语，意为红的海棠似香，绿的芭蕉如玉。以香的点燃喻海棠开放。

[71] 流云百蝠——云朵、蝙蝠组成的图案，“蝠”与“福”谐音，取吉祥多福之意。

[72] 岁寒三友——松、竹经冬不凋，梅则斗寒开花，故有“岁寒三友”之称。

[73] 集锦——这里指集合了各种花样的图案。

[74] 博古——这里指古器物的装饰图形。

[75] 卍（wàn万）卍 ——即“万福万寿”。卍：梵字，义同“万”，为印度的一种吉祥标相。

〔一一〕 “蔷薇宝相”，原作“蔷薇芬馥”，从己卯本改。

[77] 彩头——好兆头。

[78] 当（dànɡ荡）——抵得了。

〔一二〕 “扭了”，原作“牛了”，点改为“扭着”。梦稿、蒙府、戚序本均作“牛了”。按：“牛”“扭”同音借用，应作“扭”。

[80] 皤（pó婆）然——头发银白的样子。皤：白。

〔一三〕 “又有林之孝家的来回”，底本及各本均无“家的”二字，显与上下文不合，今按文意增补。

[82] 替身儿——迷信习俗以为命中有灾难的人，可以用舍身出家做僧尼的办法来消灾。官僚、地主家庭往往买穷人家子女代替出家，叫做“替身”。

[83] 足的——到底、终于。

〔一四〕 “足的这位姑娘”，原“足的”二字点去。从梦稿、甲辰本改。

[85] 贝叶遗文——古代写在贝叶上的佛经。贝叶：贝多树的叶子。古时印度僧人多用以写佛教经文。

[86] 先天神数——北宋理学家邵雍，根据《易传》关于八卦形成的解释，参杂道教思想，虚构了一个世界构造的图式，叫“先天八卦图”，用以推测宇宙和人事的变化。据说这种图式和所据的“象数”原理，在没有天地以前，就已存在，故其学称“先天学”。“先天神数”即指此类学说。

[87] 圆寂——佛教用语。一作“灭度”，梵文“涅槃”的意译。原意是佛教所说的烦恼寂灭、功德圆满的最高境界。后用来称佛或僧侣的逝世。

〔一五〕 “林之孝家的”，戚序、舒序、甲辰本并同。原“林”为“秦”点改。下同。

〔一六〕 “学会了念几卷经咒”，原作“学会念了几卷经咒”，“念”字点去。从梦稿本改。

[90] 题本——明清时，各衙门用正式文书向皇帝奏事叫题本；非正式的叫奏本。本：臣下奏事的文书。

[91] 燕坐——闲坐。燕：安闲。

[92] 龙旌凤翣（shà霎），雉羽夔（kuí葵）头——帝后的仪仗用物。翣：用野鸡或孔雀羽毛编成的大掌扇。雉：野鸡。夔：古代传说中灵异动物。

[93] 通草——即通脱木，五加科小乔木。茎含大量白髓，采髓作薄片，可制通草花或其他饰品。也可入药。

[94] 桂楫兰桡——指华美的船只。楫、桡都是船桨。桂、兰都是香木。

〔一七〕 “贾妃之心上念母年将迈”，原作“贾妃之上念母年将迈”，旁改为“贾妃之心念母亲年岁将迈”。从梦稿本改。

[96] 绰约——美丽多姿。

[97] 行宫——古代皇帝后妃外出，临时下榻之处。

[98] 庭燎——古代贵族庭院中用以照明的大烛，用松、竹、苇等捆扎成束，灌以油脂。《诗·小雅·庭燎》疏：“树之于庭，燎之为明，是烛之大者。”

[99] 火树琪花——形容灯火之盛。语出苏味道《观灯诗》：“火树银花合，星桥铁锁开。”琪：美玉。

[100] 帘卷虾须，毯铺鱼獭（tǎ塔）——虾须帘：用虾须做成的帘子。清代王士祯《分甘馀话》“虾须帘”条：“帘名虾须。，海中大虾也，长二三丈，游则竖其须，须长数尺，可以为帘，故以为名。”一说以细竹丝编制的帘子为虾须帘。清代曹庭栋《老老恒言》卷四：“有竹帘极细，名虾须帘。”鱼獭毯：用水獭皮做的毯子。鱼獭：即水獭，皮毛珍贵。

[101] 月台——古代建筑正殿前的露天平台，三面有台阶可上。

[102] 齑（jī基）盐布帛——形容生活的清苦。齑：切碎的腌菜。齑盐：泛指粗茶淡饭。布帛：原指棉织品和丝织品，这里泛指素衣布裳。

[103] 征凤鸾之瑞——意谓出现了能呈祥瑞的鸾凤。征：迹象；证验。凤鸾：喻指元春。

[104] 朝乾（qián前）夕惕——从早到晚兢兢业业，不敢稍有懈怠。乾：“乾乾”的简省，自强不息的意思。惕：小心谨慎。《易·乾》：“君子终日乾乾，夕惕若厉，无咎。”

[105] 厥（jué掘）——其。相当于“他的”、“那个”。

〔一八〕 “残犁”，蒙府、戚序本作“残黎”，甲辰本作“残年”。

[107] 懑（mèn闷）愤金怀——心里烦闷郁愤的意思。“金”是表示尊重的修饰词。

[108] 赤子苍头——泛指老百姓。赤子：指初生的婴儿。苍头：原指老年的奴仆，这里指老年人。

〔一九〕 “古今垂旷典”，原作“古人垂旷典”，从梦稿、戚序、舒序、甲辰本改。

[110] 旷典——空前的大恩典。

[111] 锡（cì次）——赐。《公羊传》庄公元年：“锡者何？赐也。”

[112] 宁不——怎不。

[113] 文章造化——指大观园的精巧华美巧夺天工。文章：文采；花纹。造化：创造化育万物的自然界。

[114] 横拖——横亘延伸。

[115] 日月光辉——喻皇帝后妃的恩泽有如日月的光辉。

[116] 蓬莱——仙山名。《史记·秦始皇本纪》：“海中有三神山，名曰蓬莱、方丈、瀛洲。”

[117] “绿裁”一联——绿绢裁制的歌扇同碧草一色，迷离难分；红装衬着湘裙舞动如梅花落瓣，随风飞回。歌扇：古时女子歌唱常以扇遮面，故称歌扇。湘裙：疑为“缃裙”，即浅黄色细绢所制之裙；一说为湘绣所做的裙子。

[118] “珠玉”句——珠玉：喻精采的诗文。杜甫《奉和贾至舍人早朝大明宫》：“朝罢香烟携满袖，诗成珠玉在挥毫。”这里借指大观园题咏。

[119] “神仙”句——喻元春归省。瑶台：神仙所居之处，这里代指皇宫。

[120] 邀——叨受；蒙受。

[121] 凝晖钟瑞——阳光瑞气凝集会聚之意。晖：日光，喻皇恩。钟：聚。

[122] “高柳”一联——上句说高高的柳树欢迎黄莺从幽谷中飞来。化用《诗·小雅·伐木》：“伐木丁丁，鸟鸣嘤嘤，出自幽谷，迁于乔木。”这里喻元春出深闺进宫闱。下句说修长的丛竹时刻等待凤凰的到临。传说凤凰食竹实，呈祥瑞。这里喻元春归省。篁：竹林。修：长。

[123] “文风”一联——宸游之夕朝廷倡导诗礼之风已经彰著，归省之时以孝教育感化万民之德更加隆盛。宸游：皇帝后妃出外巡游。宸：北辰所居，即帝王所居，代指帝王。孝化：封建孝道的教化作用。

[124] 睿（ruì瑞）藻——称颂帝王所作诗文的用语，此指元春题咏。睿：明智。藻：文辞。

[125] 金谷酒——晋代石崇有金谷园，常与宾客游宴其中，命各赋诗，“不能者，罚酒三斗”。见其《金谷诗序》。这里借指大观园开筵赋诗。

[126] 玉堂人——指元春。玉堂：嫔妃所居之处。《汉书·谷永传》：“抑损椒房玉堂之盛宠”，颜师古注：“玉堂，嬖幸之舍也。”

[127] 理论——理会。

[128] 金殿对策——金殿：即金銮殿，皇帝受朝见的殿堂。对策：原指汉代被荐举的人对答皇帝有关政治、经义的策问。清代科举制度，会试后还要参加由皇帝主持的殿试，殿试的题目为策问。

[129] 赵钱孙李——《百家姓》的头一句。《百家姓》：北宋时编的集姓氏为四言韵语的书，作者佚名。旧时流行的启蒙课本之一。

〔二〇〕 “钱翊”为“钱珝”之误。“冷烛无烟绿蜡干”乃钱珝《未展芭蕉》诗首句。唐人韦縠选编的《才调集》卷一误作“钱翊”，宋人洪迈选编的《万首唐人绝句》卷五十五和清曹寅编纂的《全唐诗》卷二十六均作“钱珝”，《新唐书·钱徽传》中亦作“钱珝”。各抄本均误作“钱翊”，今改。

[131] 钱珝（xǔ许）咏芭蕉诗——唐代诗人钱珝《未展芭蕉》诗：“冷烛无烟绿蜡干，芳心犹卷怯春寒。”宝玉题“怡红快绿”一诗中“绿蜡春犹卷”句，不但“绿蜡”二字本此，“春犹卷”三字也从此诗第二句化出。可见宝玉的诗句原是一起构思的。小说写他原用“绿玉”，据宝钗意见改为“绿蜡”，实为借此穿插对话，勾画人物。

[132] 一字师——唐代诗僧齐己《早梅》诗：“前村深雪里，昨夜数枝开。”郑谷看了后，改“数枝”为“一枝”，齐己钦服下拜。时人称郑谷为“一字师”。见陶岳《五代史补》卷三。

〔二一〕 “穿黄袍的”，原无“的”字，从舒序、甲辰本补。

〔二二〕 “也省他些精神不到之处”，戚序、舒序本并同。原作“也省他些精神恐有不到的之处”，“恐有”为旁添，“的”字点去。

[135] 秀玉——喻竹。竹子别称绿玉，见《正字通》。

[136] 个个——竹叶簇聚，形状像许多“个”字。

〔二三〕 “妨阶水”，原作“防阶水”，从舒序本改。

[138] “迸砌”一联——即“妨阶水之迸砌，碍鼎香之穿帘”。砌：石阶的边沿。两句都写竹子长得茂密，既挡住了阶下泉水不使溅上阶沿，又留住了鼎炉香烟不使穿帘散去。

[139] 蘅芷——杜蘅、白芷，都是香草。

[140] “软衬”一联——此联承上，写满苑异草，牵藤引蔓，柔软如春日嫩草，吐露出一缕芳香。

[141] 轻烟——藤蔓纤柔，夹缠萦绕，犹如轻烟。

[142] 冷翠——草上露珠，清冷碧翠。

[143] “谁谓”一联——南朝诗人谢灵运《登池上楼》诗有“池塘生春草”之句，相传为梦中所得。这联意谓：谁说只有谢家才有能触发灵感获得佳句的好梦呢。

[144] 两两——指芭蕉与海棠。

[145] “绿蜡”一联——上句说春天蕉叶卷而未舒，犹如翠烛；下句写海棠入夜犹开，像少女未眠。苏轼《海棠》诗：“只恐夜深花睡去，故烧高烛照红妆”，以红妆喻海棠。

[146] “凭栏”一联——上句说槛外海棠，红花如凭栏美人垂下的大红衫袖；下句说石旁芭蕉，绿叶像劻护的青烟。

[147] 解怜——懂得爱惜。

[148] “菱荇”一联——菱荇：菱角、荇菜。上句说鹅儿在长着菱荇的水面上嬉戏。下句意思是燕子飞越桑榆之间，忙忙碌碌地在梁上筑巢。

[149] 《豪宴》等剧目——《豪宴》是清初李玉《一捧雪》传奇中的一出。剧本演明代莫怀古因玉杯“一捧雪”，被奸邪害得家破人亡的故事。《乞巧》即清初洪昇《长生殿》传奇中的一出。剧本演唐玄宗与杨贵妃的悲剧故事。《仙缘》即明代汤显祖《邯郸记》中《合仙》一出。剧本演吕洞宾下凡度卢生上天，代替何仙姑天门扫花的故事。《离魂》是汤显祖《牡丹亭》改编本中的一出。按封建礼法，在元妃省亲时，这些戏中有些情节是不能演的。作者在这里或有通过戏名，暗示贾府和主要人物结局的用意。脂批曾谓：《豪宴》“伏贾家之败”，《乞巧》“伏元妃之死”，《仙缘》“伏甄宝玉送玉”，《离魂》“伏黛玉死”，“所点之戏剧伏四事，乃通部书之大过节、大关键。”

[150] 歌欺裂石之音——欺：超过。裂石之音：比喻声音的激越。陆游诗：“清宵长歌裂金石。”

[151] 《游园》、《惊梦》——原本《牡丹亭》中的《惊梦》一出，到了演出本分为《游园》、《惊梦》两出。演杜丽娘梦中与柳梦梅在牡丹亭欢会事。

[152] 《相约》、《相骂》——明代月榭主人《钗钏记》传奇中的两出。《相约》演皇甫吟与史碧桃约为婚姻事。《相骂》演丫鬟云香与老夫人张氏拌嘴相骂事。

[153] 苦海慈航——佛教宣扬现实世界如同苦海，劝人出家是菩萨的慈悲行为，就像用船救人超渡苦海。

[154] 笔锭如意——金锭子上的字样，以“笔锭”谐音“必定”，意谓一定吉祥、事事如意。

[155] 吉庆有鱼——银锭上的字样，以“鱼”谐音“馀”。

[156] 爵——古代的三脚酒器。

[157] 端——布帛长度单位。明·郎瑛《七修类稿》卷二十二：“今人凡以布帛一匹为一端，殊不知一端则半匹也。”

[158] 陈设、答应——此处均指近侍当差之人。明·刘若愚《明宫史》载，御前有“钦安殿、隆德殿、英华殿之陈设，以上皆穿红，总谓之近侍也。”清·福格《听雨丛谈》卷三“答应”条：“今宫眷名位，妃嫔而下，曰常在、曰答应。”

CHAPTER 17. The inspection of the new garden becomes a test of talent And Rong-guo House makes itself ready for an important visitor

Now that Qin Zhong was indisputably dead, Bao-yu wept long and bitterly, and it was some time before Li Gui and the rest could calm him. Even after their return he continued tearful and distressed. Grandmother Jia contributed thirty or forty taels towards Qin Zhong’s funeral expenses and made additional provision for offerings to the dead. Bao-yu condoled and sacrificed, and on the seventh day followed his friend’s coffin to the grave. He continued in daily grief for Qin Zhong for a very long time afterwards. But grief cannot mend our losses, and a day did at last arrive when he had ceased to mourn.

One day Cousin Zhen came to Jia Zheng with his team of helpers to report that work on the new garden had been completed.

‘Uncle She has already had a look,’ said Cousin Zhen. ‘Now we are only waiting for you to look round it to tell us if there is anything you think will need altering and also to decide what inscriptions ought to be used on the boards everywhere.’

Jia Zheng reflected a while in silence.

‘These inscriptions are going to be difficult,’ he said eventually. ‘By rights, of course, Her Grace should have the privilege of doing them herself; but she can scarcely be expected to make them up out of her head without having seen any of the views which they are to describe. On the other hand, if we wait until she has already visited the garden before asking her, half the pleasure of the visit will be lost. All those prospects and pavilions – even the rocks and trees and flowers will seem somehow incomplete without that touch of poetry which only the written word can lend a scene.’

‘My dear patron, you are so right,’ said one of the literary gentlemen who sat with him. ‘But we have had an idea. The inscriptions for the various parts of the garden obviously cannot be dispensed with; nor, equally obviously, can they be decided in advance. Our suggestion is that we should compose provisional names and couplets to suit the places where inscriptions are required, and have them painted on rectangular paper lanterns which can be hung up temporarily – either horizontally or vertically as the case may be – when Her Grace comes to visit. We can ask her to decide on the permanent names after she has inspected the garden. Is not this a solution of the dilemma?’

‘It is indeed,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘When we look round the garden presently, we must all try to think of words that can be used. If they seem suitable, we can keep them for the lanterns. If not, we can call for Yu-cun to come and help us out.’

‘Your own suggestions are sure to be admirable, Sir Zheng,’ said the literary gentlemen ingratiatingly. ‘There will be no need to call in Yu-cun.’

Jia Zheng smiled deprecatingly.

‘I am afraid it is not as you imagine. In my youth I had at best only indifferent skill in the art of writing verses about natural objects – birds and flowers and scenery and the like; and now that I am older and have to devote all my energies to official documents and government papers, I am even more out of touch with this sort of thing than I was then; so that even if I were to try my hand at it, I fear that my efforts would be rather dull and pedantic ones. Instead of enhancing the interest and beauty of the garden, they would probably have a deadening effect upon both.’

‘That doesn’t matter,’ the literary gentlemen replied. ‘We can all try our hands at composing. If each of us contributes what he is best at, and if we then select the better attempts and reject the ones that are not so good, we should be able to manage all right.’

‘That seems to me a very good suggestion,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘As the weather today is so warm and pleasant, let us all go and take a turn round the garden now!’

So saying he rose to his feet and conducted his little retinue of literary luminaries towards the garden. Cousin Zhen hurried on ahead to warn those in charge that they were coming.

As Bao-yu was still in very low spirits these days because of his grief for Qin Zhong, Grandmother Jia had hit on the idea of sending him into the newly made garden to play. By unlucky chance she had selected this very day on which to try out her antidote. He had in fact only just entered the garden when Cousin Zhen came hurrying towards him.

‘Better get out of here!’ said Cousin Zhen with an amused smile. ‘Your father will be here directly!’

Bao-yu streaked back towards the gate, a string of nurses and pages hurrying at his heels. But he had only just turned the corner on coming out of it when he almost ran into the arms of Jia Zheng and his party coming from the opposite direction. Escape was impossible. He simply had to stand meekly to one side and await instructions.

Jia Zheng had recently received a favourable report on Bao-yu from his teacher Jia Dai-ru in which mention had been made of his skill in composing couplets. Although the boy showed no aptitude for serious study, Dai-ru had said, he nevertheless possessed a certain meretricious talent for versification not undeserving of commendation. Because of this report, Jia Zheng ordered Bao-yu to accompany him into the garden, intending to put his aptitude to the test. Bao-yu, who knew nothing either of Dai-ru’s report or of his father’s intentions, followed with trepidation.

As soon as they reached the gate they found Cousin Zhen at the head of a group of overseers waiting to learn Jia Zheng’s wishes.

‘I want you to close the gate,’ said Jia Zheng, ‘so that we can see what it looks like from outside before we go in.’

Cousin Zhen ordered the gate to be closed, and Jia Zheng stood back and studied it gravely.

It was a five-frame gate-building with a hump-backed roof of half-cylinder tiles. The wooden lattice-work of the doors and windows was finely carved and ingeniously patterned. The whole gatehouse was quite unadorned by colour or gilding, yet all was of the most exquisite workmanship. Its walls stood on a terrace of white marble carved with a pattern of passion-flowers in relief, and the garden’s whitewashed circumference wall to left and right of it had a footing made of black-and-white striped stone blocks arranged so that the stripes formed a simple pattern. Jia Zheng found the unostentatious simplicity of this entrance greatly to his liking, and after ordering the gates to be opened, passed on inside.

A cry of admiration escaped them as they entered, for there, immediately in front of them, screening everything else from their view, rose a steep, verdure-clad hill.

‘Without this hill,’ Jia Zheng somewhat otiosely observed, ‘the whole garden would be visible as one entered, and all its mystery would be lost.’

The literary gentlemen concurred. ‘Only a master of the art of landscape could have conceived so bold a stroke,’ said one of them.

As they gazed at this miniature mountain, they observed a great number of large white rocks in all kinds of grotesque and monstrous shapes, rising course above course up one of its sides, some recumbent, some upright or leaning at angles, their surfaces streaked and spotted with moss and lichen or half concealed by creepers, and with a narrow, zig-zag path only barely discernible to the eye winding up between them.

‘Let us begin our tour by following this path,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘If we work our way round towards the other side of the hill on our way back, we shall have made a complete circuit of the garden.’

He ordered Cousin Zhen to lead the way, and leaning on Bao-yu’s shoulder, began the winding ascent of the little mountain. Suddenly on the mountainside above his head, he noticed a white rock whose surface had been polished to mirror smoothness and realized that this must be one of the places which had been prepared for an inscription.

‘Aha, gentlemen!’ said Jia Zheng turning back to address the others who were climbing up behind him. ‘What name are we going to choose for this mountain?’

‘Emerald Heights,’ said one.

‘Embroidery Hill,’ said another.

Another proposed that they should call it ‘Little Censer’ after the famous Censer Peak in Kiangsi. Another proposed ‘Little Zhong-nan’. Altogether some twenty or thirty names were suggested – none of them very seriously, since the literary gentlemen were aware that Jia Zheng intended to test Bao-yu and were anxious not to make the boy’s task too difficult. Bao-yu understood and was duly grateful.

When no more names were forthcoming Jia Zheng turned to Bao-yu and asked him to propose something himself.

‘I remember reading in some old book,’ said Bao-yu, ‘that “to recall old things is better than to invent new ones; and to recut an ancient text is better than to engrave a modern”. We ought, then, to choose something old. But as this is not the garden’s principal “mountain” or its chief vista, strictly speaking there is no justification for having an inscription here at all – unless it is to be something which implies that this is merely a first step towards more important things ahead. I suggest we should call it “Pathway to Mysteries” after the line in Chang Jian’s poem about the mountain temple:

A path winds upwards to mysterious places.

A name like that would be more distinguished.’

There was a chorus of praise from the literary gentlemen:

‘Exactly right! Wonderful! Our young friend with his natural talent and youthful imagination succeeds immediately where we old pedants fail!’

Jia Zheng gave a deprecatory laugh:

‘You mustn’t flatter the boy! People of his age are adept at making a little knowledge go a long way. I only asked him as a joke, to see what he would say. We shall have to think of a better name later on.’

As he spoke, they passed through a tunnel of rock in the mountain’s shoulder into an artificial ravine ablaze with the vari-coloured flowers and foliage of many varieties of tree and shrub which grew there in great profusion. Down below, where the trees were thickest, a clear stream gushed between the rocks. After they had advanced a few paces in a somewhat northerly direction, the ravine broadened into a little flat-bottomed valley and the stream widened out to form a pool. Gaily painted and carved pavilions rose from the slopes on either side, their lower halves concealed amidst the trees, their tops reaching into the blue. In the midst of the prospect below them was a handsome bridge:

In a green ravine

A jade stream sped.

A stair of stone

Plunged to the brink.

Where the water widened

To a placid pool,

A marble baluster

Ran round about.

A marble bridge crossed it

With triple span,

And a marble lion’s maw

Crowned each of the arches.

Over the centre of the bridge there was a little pavilion, which Jia Zheng and the others entered and sat down in.

‘Well, gentlemen!’ said Jia Zheng. ‘What are we going to call it?’

‘Ou-yang Xiu in his Pavilion of the Old Drunkard speaks of “a pavilion poised above the water”,’ said one of them. ‘What about “Poised Pavilion”?’

‘“Poised Pavilion” is good,’ said Jia Zheng, ‘but this pavilion was put here in order to dominate the water it stands over, and I think there ought to be some reference to water in its name. I seem to recollect that in that same essay you mention Ou-yang Xiu speaks of the water “gushing between twin peaks”. Could we not use the word “gushing” in some way?’

‘Yes, yes!’ said one of the literary gentlemen. ‘“Gushing Jade” would do splendidly.’

Jia Zheng fondled his beard meditatively, then turned to Bao-yu and asked him for his suggestion.

‘I agreed with what you said just now, Father,’ said Bao-yu, ‘but on second thoughts it seems to me that though it may have been all right for Ou-yang Xiu to use the word “gushing” in describing the source of the river Rang, it doesn’t really suit the water round this pavilion. Then again, as this is a Separate Residence specially designed for the reception of a royal personage, it seems to me that something rather formal is called for, and that an expression taken from the Drunkard’s Pavilion might seem a bit improper. I think we should try to find a rather more imaginative, less obvious sort of name.’

‘I hope you gentlemen are all taking this in!’ said Jia Zheng sarcastically. ‘You will observe that when we suggest something original we are recommended to prefer the old to the new, but that when we do make use of an old text we are “improper” and “unimaginative”! – Well, carry on then! Let’s have your suggestion!’

‘I think “Drenched Blossoms” would be more original and more tasteful than “Gushing Jade”.’

Jia Zheng stroked his beard and nodded silently. The literary gentlemen could see that he was pleased and hastened to commend Bao-yu’s remarkable ability.

‘That’s the two words for the framed board on top,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘Not a very difficult task. But what about the seven-word lines for the sides?’

Bao-yu glanced quickly round, seeking inspiration from the scene, and presently came up with the following couplet:

‘Three pole-thrust lengths of bankside willows green,

One fragrant breath of bankside flowers sweet.’

Jia Zheng nodded and a barely perceptible smile played over his features. The literary gentlemen redoubled their praises.

They now left the pavilion and crossed to the other side of the pool. For a while they walked on, stopping from time to time to admire the various rocks and flowers and trees which they passed on their way, until suddenly they found themselves at the foot of a range of whitewashed walls enclosing a small retreat almost hidden among the hundreds and hundreds of green bamboos which grew in a dense thicket behind them. With cries of admiration they went inside. A cloister-like covered walk ran round the walls from the entrance to the back of the forecourt and a cobbled pathway led up to the steps of the terrace. The house was a tiny three-frame one, two parts latticed, the third part windowless. The tables, chairs and couches which furnished it seemed to have been specially made to fit the interior. A door in the rear wall opened onto a garden of broad-leaved plantains dominated by a large flowering pear-tree and overlooked on either side by two diminutive lodges built at right angles to the back of the house. A stream gushed through an opening at the foot of the garden wall into a channel barely a foot wide which ran to the foot of the rear terrace and thence round the side of the house to the front, where it meandered through the bamboos of the forecourt before finally disappearing through another opening in the surrounding wall.

‘This must be a pleasant enough place at any time,’ said Jia Zheng with a smile. ‘But just imagine what it would be like to sit studying beside the window here on a moonlight night! It is pleasures like that which make a man feel he has not lived in vain!’

As he spoke, his glance happened to fall on Bao-yu, who instantly became so embarrassed that he hung his head in shame. He was rescued by the timely intervention of the literary gentlemen who changed the subject from that of study to a less dangerous topic. Two of them suggested that the name given to this retreat should be a four-word one. Jia Zheng asked them what four words they proposed.

‘“Where Bends the Qi”’ said one of them, no doubt having in mind the song in the Poetry Classic which begins with the words

See in that nook where bends the Qi,

The green bamboos, how graceful grown!

‘No,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘Too obvious!’

‘“North of the Sui”,’ said the other, evidently thinking of the ancient Rabbit Garden of the Prince of Liang in Suiyang – also famous for its bamboos and running water.

‘No,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘Still too obvious!’

‘You’d better ask Cousin Bao again,’ said Cousin Zhen, who stood by listening.

‘He always insists on criticizing everyone else’s suggestions before he will deign to make one of his own,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘He is a worthless creature.’

‘That’s all right,’ said the others. ‘His criticisms are very good ones. He is in no way to blame for making them.’

‘You shouldn’t let him get away with it!’ said Jia Zheng. ‘All right!’ he went on, turning to Bao-yu. ‘Today we will indulge you up to the hilt. Let’s have your criticisms, and after that we’ll hear your own proposal. What about the two suggestions that have just been made? Do you think either of them could be used?’

‘Neither of them seems quite right to me,’ said Bao-yu in answer to the question.

‘In what way “not quite right”?’ said Jia Zheng with a scornful smile.

‘Well,’ said Bao-yu, ‘This is the first building our visitor will enter when she looks over the garden, so there ought to be some word of praise for the Emperor at this point. If we want a classical reference with imperial symbolism, I suggest “The Phoenix Dance”, alluding to that passage in the History Classic about the male and female phoenixes alighting “with measured gambollings” in the Emperor’s courtyard.’

‘What about “Bend of the Qi” and “North of the Sui”?’ said Jia Zheng. ‘Aren’t they classical allusions? If not, I should like to know what they are!’

‘Yes,’ said Bao-yu, ‘but they are too contrived. “The Phoenix Dance” is more fitting.’

There was a loud murmur of assent from the literary gentlemen. Jia Zhong nodded and tried not to look pleased.

‘Young idiot! – A “small capacity but a great self-conceit”, gentlemen – All right!’ he ordered: ‘now the couplet!’

So Bao-yu recited the following couplet:

‘From the empty cauldron the steam still rises after the brewing of tea.

By the darkening window the fingers are still cold after the game of Go.’

Jia Zheng shook his head:

‘Nothing very remarkable about that!’

With this remark he began to move on, but thought of something just as they were leaving, and stopped to ask Cousin Zhen:

‘I see that the buildings in this garden have their proper complement of chairs and tables and so forth. What about blinds and curtains and flower-vases and all that sort of thing? Have they been selected to suit the individual rooms?’

‘As regards ornaments,’ Cousin Zhen replied, ‘we have already got in quite a large stock, and when the time comes we shall naturally select from it what is suitable for each individual room. As regards drapes and hangings, Cousin Lian told me yesterday that there are quite a lot yet to come. What we did was to take the measurements from the plans drawn up for the carpenters and put the work in hand straight away, even before the buildings were finished. As far as I know, up to yesterday we had received about half of what was ordered.’

From the way Cousin Zhen spoke, Jia Zheng gathered that this was not his responsibility and sent someone to summon Jia Lian. He arrived within moments, and Jia Zheng questioned him about the types and quantities ordered and the figures for what had already been received and what was still to come.

In response to his inquiry Jia Lian extracted a wallet from the leg of his boot, and glancing at a folded schedule inside it, summarized its contents as follows:

‘Curtains, large and small, in various silks and satins – flowered, dragon-spot, sprigged, tapestry, panelled, ink-splash: one hundred and twenty. – Eighty of those were delivered yesterday. That leaves forty to come. – Blinds: two hundred. – Yes. They all arrived yesterday. But then there are the special ones. – Blinds, scarlet felt: two hundred. Speckled bamboo: one hundred. Red lacquered bamboo with gold fleck: one hundred. Black lacquered bamboo: one hundred. Coloured net: two hundred. – We now have half of each of those four kinds. The other half is promised by the end of autumn. – Chair-covers, table-drapes, valances, tablecloths: one thousand two hundred of each. – Those we already have.’

They had been moving on as he spoke, but were presently brought to a halt by a steeply sloping hill which rose up in front of them. Having negotiated its foot, they could see, almost concealed in a fold half-way up the other side of it, a dun-coloured adobe wall crowned with a coping of rice-straw thatch. Inside it were several hundred apricot trees, whose flowering tops resembled the billowing rosy clouds of some vegetable volcano. In their midst stood a little group of reed-thatched cottages. Beyond the wall, with a barred gate dividing it in the middle, a loose hedge of irregular shape had been made by weaving together the pliant young shoots of the mulberry, elm, hibiscus, and silkworm thorn trees which grew outside it. Between this hedge of trees and the lower slope of the hill was a rustic well, furnished with both well-sweep and windlass. Below the well, row upon row of miniature fields full of healthy-looking vegetables and flowers ran down in variegated strips to the bottom.

‘Ah, now here is a place with a purpose!’ said Jia Zheng with a pleased smile. ‘It may have been made by human artifice, but the sight of it is none the less moving. In me it awakens the desire to get back to the land, to a life of rural simplicity. Let us go in and rest a while!’

They were just on the point of entering the gate in the hedge when they observed a stone at the side of the pathway leading up to it which had evidently been put there in order that the name of the place might be inscribed upon it.

‘What a brilliant idea!’ the literary gentlemen exclaimed. ‘If they had put a board up over the gate, the rustic atmosphere would have been completely destroyed, whereas this stone actually enhances it. This is a place which calls for the bucolic talent of a Fan Cheng-da to do it justice!’

‘What shall we call it, then?’ asked Jia Zheng.

‘Just now our young friend was saying that to “recall an old thing is better than to invent a new one”,’ said one of the literary gentlemen. ‘In this case the ancients have already provided the perfect name: “Apricot Village”.’

Jia Zheng knew that he was referring to the words of the fainting traveller in Du Mu’s poem:

‘Where’s the tavern?’ I cry, and a lad points the way

To a village far off in the apricot trees.

He turned to Cousin Zhen with a smile:

‘Yes. That reminds me. There’s just one thing missing here: an inn-sign. Tomorrow you must have one made. Nothing fancy. Just an ordinary inn-sign like the ones you see in country villages outside. And it should hang from a bamboo pole above the tree-tops.’

Cousin Zhen promised to see this done and added a suggestion of his own:

‘The birds here, too, ought to be ordinary farmyard ones – hens, ducks, geese, and so on – to be in keeping with the surroundings.’

Jia Zheng and the rest agreed enthusiastically.

‘The only trouble with “Apricot Village”,’ said Jia Zheng, ‘– though it would suit the place very well – is that it is the name of a real village; so we should have to get official permission first before we could use it.’

‘Ah, yes,’ said the others. ‘That means we still have to think of something for a temporary name. Now what shall it be?’

While they were all still thinking, Bao-yu who had already had an idea, was so bursting with eagerness that he broke in, without waiting to be invited by his father:

‘There is an old poem which has the lines

Above the flowering apricot

A hopeful inn-sign hangs.

For the inscription on the stone we ought to have “The Hopeful Sign”.’

‘“The Hopeful Sign”,’ echoed the literary gentlemen admiringly. ‘Very good! The hidden allusion to “Apricot Village” is most ingenious!’

‘Oh, as for the name of the village,’ said Bao-yu scornfully, ‘ “Apricot Village” is much too obvious! Why not “Sweet-rice Village” from the words of the old poem:

A cottage by the water stands

Where sweet the young rice smells?’

The literary gentlemen clapped their hands delightedly; but their cries of admiration were cut short by an angry shout from Jia Zheng:

‘Ignorant young puppy! Just how many “old poets” and “old poems” do you think you know, that you should presume to show off in front of your elders in this impertinent manner? We let you have your little say just now in order to test your intelligence. It was no more than a joke. Do you suppose we are seriously interested in your opinions?’

They had been moving on meanwhile, and he now led them into the largest of the little thatched buildings, from whose simple interior with its paper windows and plain deal furniture all hint of urban refinement had been banished. Jia Zheng was inwardly pleased. He stared hard at Bao-yu:

‘How do you like this place, then?’

With secret winks and nods the literary gentlemen urged Bao-yu to make a favourable reply, but he wilfully ignored their promptings.

‘Not nearly as much as “The Phoenix Dance”.’

His father snorted disgustedly.

‘Ignoramus! You have eyes only for painted halls and gaudy pavilions – the rubbishy trappings of wealth. What can you know of the beauty that lies in quietness and natural simplicity? This is a consequence of your refusal to study properly.’

‘Your rebuke is, of course, justified, Father,’ Bao-yu replied promptly, ‘but then I have never really understood what it was the ancients meant by “natural”.’

The literary gentlemen, who had observed a vein of mulishness in Bao-yu which boded trouble, were surprised by the seeming naïveté of this reply.

‘Why, fancy not knowing what “natural” means – you who have such a good understanding of so much else! “Natural” is that which is of nature, that is to say, that which is produced by nature as opposed to that which is produced by human artifice.’

‘There you are, you see!’ said Bao-yu. ‘A farm set down in the middle of a place like this is obviously the product of human artifice. There are no neighbouring villages, no distant prospects of city walls; the mountain at the back doesn’t belong to any system; there is no pagoda rising from some tree-hid monastery in the hills above; there is no bridge below leading to a near-by market town. It sticks up out of nowhere, in total isolation from everything else. It isn’t even a particularly remarkable view – not nearly so “natural” in either form or spirit as those other places we have seen. The bamboos in those other places may have been planted by human hand and the streams diverted out of their natural courses, but there was no appearance of artifice. That’s why, when the ancients use the term “natural” I have my doubts about what they really meant. For example, when they speak of a “natural painting”, I can’t help wondering if they are not referring to precisely that forcible interference with the landscape to which I object: putting hills where they are not meant to be, and that sort of thing. However great the skill with which this is done, the results are never quite…’

His discourse was cut short by an outburst of rage from Jia Zheng.

‘Take that boy out of here!’

Bao-yu fled.

‘Come back!’

He returned.

‘You still have to make a couplet on this place. If it isn’t satisfactory, you will find yourself reciting it to the tune of a slapped face!’

Bao-yu stood quivering with fright and for some moments was unable to say anything. At last he recited the following couplet:

‘Emergent buds swell where the washerwoman soaks her cloth.

A fresh tang rises where the cress-gatherer fills his pannier.’

Jia Zheng shook his head:

‘Worse and worse.’

He led them out of the ‘village’ and round the foot of the hill:

through flowers and foliage,

by rock and rivulet,

past rose-crowned pergolas

and rose-twined trellises,

through small pavilions

embowered in peonies,

where scent of sweet-briers stole,

or pliant plantains waved –

until they came to a place where a musical murmur of water issued from a cave in the rock. The cave was half-veiled by a green curtain of creeper, and the water below was starred with bobbing blossoms.

‘What a delightful spot!’ the literary gentlemen exclaimed.

‘Very well, gentlemen. What are you going to call it?’ said Jia Zheng.

Inevitably the literary gentlemen thought of Tao Yuan-ming’s fisherman of Wu-ling and his Peach-blossom Stream.

‘“The Wu-ling Stream”,’ said one of them. ‘The name is ready-made for this place. No need to look further than that.’

Jia Zheng laughed:

‘The same trouble again, I am afraid. It is the name of a real place. In any case, it is too hackneyed.’

‘All right,’ said the others good-humouredly. ‘In that case simply call it “Refuge of the Qins”.’ Their minds still ran on the Peach-blossom Stream and its hidden paradise.

‘That’s even more inappropriate!’ said Bao-yu. ‘ “Refuge of the Qins” would imply that the people here were fugitives from tyranny. How can we possibly call it that? I suggest “Smartweed Bank and Flowery Harbour”.’

‘Rubbish!’ said Jia Zheng. He looked inside the grotto and asked Cousin Zhen if there were any boats.

‘Four punts for lotus-gathering and one for pleasure are on order,’ said Cousin Zhen, ‘but they haven’t finished making them yet.’

‘What a pity we cannot go through!’ said Jia Zheng.

‘There is a very steep path over the top which would take us there,’ said Cousin Zhen, and proceeded to lead the way.

The others scrambled up after him, clinging to creepers and leaning on tree-trunks as they went. When, having descended once more, they had regained the stream, it was wide and deep and distorted by many anfractuosities. The fallen blossoms seemed to be even more numerous and the waters on whose surface they floated even more limpid than they had been on the side they had just come from. The weeping willows which lined both banks were here and there diversified with peach and apricot trees whose interlacing branches made little worlds of stillness and serenity beneath them.

Suddenly, through the green of the willows, they glimpsed the scarlet balustrade of a wooden bridge whose sloping ramps led to a flat central span high above the water. When they had crossed it, they found a choice of paths leading to different parts of the garden. Ahead was an airy building with roofs of tile, whose elegant surrounding wall was of grey-plastered brick pierced by ornamental grilles made of semicircular tiles laid together in openwork patterns. The wall was so constructed that outcrops of rock from the garden’s ‘master mountain’ appeared to run through it in several places into the courtyard inside.

‘This building seems rather out of place here,’ said Jia Zheng.

But as he entered the gate the source of his annoyance disappeared; for a miniature mountain of rock, whose many holes and fissures, worn through it by weathering or the wash of waters, bestowed on it a misleading appearance of fragile delicacy, towered up in front of him and combined with the many smaller rocks of various shapes and sizes which surrounded it to efface from their view every vestige of the building they had just been looking at.

Not a single tree grew in this enclosure, only plants and herbs:

some aspired as vines,

some crept humbly on the ground;

some grew down from the tops of rocks,

some upwards from their feet;

some hung from the eaves in waving trails of green,

some clung to pillars in circling bands of gold;

some had blood-red berries,

some had golden flowers.

And from every flower and every plant and every herb wafted the most exquisite and incomparable fragrances.

Jia Zheng could not help but admire:

‘Charming! But what are they all?’

‘Wild-fig’ and ‘wistaria’ was all the literary gentlemen would venture.

‘But surely,’ Jia Zheng objected, ‘wild-fig and wistaria do not have this delectable fragrance?’

‘They certainly don’t,’ said Bao-yu. ‘There are wild-fig and wistaria among the plants growing here, but the ones with the fragrance are pollia and birthwort and – yes, I think those are orchids of some kind. That one over there is probably actinidia. The red flowers are, of course, rue, the “herb of grace”, and the green ones must be green-flag. A lot of these rare plants are mentioned in Li sao and Wen Xuan, particularly in the Poetical Descriptions of the Three Capitals by Zuo Si. For example, in his Description of the Wu Capital he has

agastache, eulalia,

and harsh-smelling ginger-bush,

cord-flower, cable-flower,

centaury and purplestrife,

stone-sail and water-pine

and sweet-scented eglantine…

And then there are

amaranth, xanthoxylon,

anemone, phellopteron…

They come in the Description of the Shu Capital. Of course, after all these centuries nobody really knows what all those names stand for. They apply them quite arbitrarily to whatever seem to fit the description, and gradually all of them –’

Once more an angry shout from his father cut him short:

‘Who asked for your opinion?’

Bao-yu shrank back and said no more.

Observing that there were balustraded loggias on either side of the court, Jia Zheng led his party through one of them towards the building at the rear. It was a cool, five-frame gallery with a low, roofed verandah running round it on all sides. The window-lattices were green and the walls freshly painted. It was a building of quite another order of elegance from the ones they had so far visited.

‘Anyone who sat sipping tea and playing the qin to himself on this verandah would have no need to burn incense if he wanted sweet smells for his inspiration,’ said Jia Zheng dreamily. ‘So unexpectedly beautiful a place calls for a specially beautiful name to adorn it.’

‘What could be better than “Dewy Orchids”?’ said the literary gentlemen.

‘Yes,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘That would do for the name. Now what about the couplet?’

‘I have thought of a couplet,’ said one of the gentlemen. ‘Tell me all of you what you think of it:

A musky perfume of orchids hangs in the sunset courtyard.

A sweet aroma of galingale floats over the moonlit island.’

‘Not bad,’ said the others. ‘But why “sunset courtyard”?’

‘I was thinking of that line in the old poem,’ said the man:

‘The garden’s gillyflowers at sunset weep.

After all, you have already got “dewy” in the name. I thought the “sunset weeping” would go with it rather well.’

‘Feeble! Feeble!’ cried the rest.

‘I’ve thought of a couplet, too,’ said one of the others. ‘Let me have your opinion of it:

Down garden walks a fragrant breeze caresses beds of melilot.

By courtyard walls a brilliant moon illumines golden orchises.’

Jia Zheng stroked his beard, and his lips were observed to move as though he was on the point of proposing a couplet of his own. Suddenly, looking up, he caught sight of Bao-yu skulking behind the others, too scared to speak.

‘What’s the matter with you?’ he bellowed at the unfortunate boy. ‘You are ready enough with your opinions when they are not wanted. Speak up! – Or are you waiting for a written invitation?’

‘I can see no “musk” or “moonlight” or “islands” in this place,’ said Bao-yu. ‘If we are to make couplets in this follow-my-leader fashion, we could turn out a couple of hundred of them and still have more to come.’

‘No one’s twisting your arm,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘You don’t have to use those words if you don’t want to.’

‘In that case,’ said Bao-yu, ‘I suggest “The Garden of Spices” for the name; and for the couplet:

Composing amidst cardamoms, you shall make verses like flowers. Slumbering amidst the roses, you shall dream fragrant dreams.’

‘We all know where you got that from,’ said Jia Zheng:

‘Composing midst the plantains

Green shall my verses be.

We can’t give you much credit for an imitation.’

‘Not at all!’ said the literary gentlemen. ‘There is nothing wrong with imitation provided it is done well. After all, Li Bo’s poem “On Phoenix Terrace” is entirely based on Cui Hao’s “Yellow Crane Tower”, yet it is a much better poem. On reflection our young friend’s couplet seems more poetical and imaginative than the original.’

‘Oh, come now!’ said Jia Zheng. But they could see he was not displeased.

Leaving the place of many fragrances behind them, they had not advanced much further when they could see ahead of them a building of great magnificence which Jia Zheng at once identified as the main reception hall of the Residence.

Roof above roof soared,

Eye up-compelling,

Of richly-wrought chambers

And high winding galleries.

Green rafts of dark pine

Brushed the eaves’ edges.

Milky magnolias

Bordered the buildings.

Gold-glinting cat-faces,

Rainbow-hued serpents’ snouts

Peered out or snarled down

From cornice and finial.

‘It is rather a showy building,’ said Jia Zheng. But the literary gentlemen reassured him:

‘Although Her Grace is a person of simple and abstemious tastes, the exalted position she now occupies makes it only right and proper that there should be a certain amount of pomp in her reception. This building is in no way excessive.’

Still advancing in the same direction, they presently found themselves at the foot of the white marble memorial arch which framed the approach to the hall. The pattern of writhing dragons protectively crouched over its uppermost horizontal was so pierced and fretted by the sculptor’s artistry as to resemble lacework rather than solid stone.

‘What inscription do we want on this arch?’ Jia Zheng inquired.

‘“Peng-lai’s Fairy Precincts” is the only name that would do it justice,’ said the literary gentlemen.

Jia Zheng shook his head and said nothing.

The sight of this building and its arch had inspired a strange and unaccountable stir of emotion in Bao-yu which on reflection he interpreted as a sign that he must have known a building somewhat like this before – though where or when he could not for the life of him remember. He was still racking his brains to recall what it reminded him of, when Jia Zheng ordered him to produce a name and couplet for the arch, and he was quite unable to give his mind to the task of composition. The literary gentlemen, not knowing the nature of his preoccupation, supposed that his father’s incessant bullying had worn him out and that he had finally come to the end of his inspiration. They feared that further bullying might once more bring out the mulish streak in him, thereby provoking an explosion which would be distasteful for everybody. Accordingly they urged Jia Zheng to allow him a day’s grace in which to produce something suitable. Jia Zheng, who was secretly beginning to be apprehensive about the possible conquences of Grandmother Jia’s anxiety for her darling grandson, yielded, albeit with a bad grace:

‘Jackanapes! So even you have your off moments it seems. Well, I’ll give you a day to do it in. But woe betide you if you can’t produce something tomorrow! And it had better be something good, too, because this is the most important building in the garden.’

After they had seen over the building and come out again, they stopped for a while on the terrace to look at a general view of the whole garden and attempted to make out the places they had already visited. They were surprised to find that even now they had covered little more than half of the whole area. Just at that moment a servant came up to report that someone had arrived with a message from Yu-cun.

‘I can see that we shan’t be able to finish today,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘However, if we go out by the way I said, we should at least be able to get some idea of the general layout.’

He conducted them to a large bridge above a crystal curtain of rushing water. It was the weir through which the water from the little river which fed all the pools and watercourses of the garden ran into it from outside. Jia Zheng invited them to name it.

‘This is the source of the “Drenched Blossoms” stream we looked at earlier on,’ said Bao-yu. ‘We should call it “Drenched Blossoms Weir”.’

‘Rubbish!’ said Jia Zheng. ‘You may as well forget about your “Drenched Blossoms”, because we are not going to use that name!’

Their progress continued past many unexplored features of the garden, viz:

a summer lodge

a straw-thatched cot

a dry-stone wall

a flowering arch

a tiny temple nestling beneath a hill

a nun’s retreat hidden in a little wood

a straight gallery

a crooked cave

a square pavilion

and a round belvedere.

But Jia Zheng hurried past every one of them without entering. However, he had now been walking for a very long time without a rest and was beginning to feel somewhat footsore; and so, when the next building appeared through the trees ahead, he proposed that they should go in and sit down, and led his party towards it by the quickest route possible. They had to walk round a stand of double-flowering ornamental peach-trees and through a circular opening in a flower-covered bamboo trellis. This brought them in sight of the building’s whitewashed enclosing wall and the contrasting green of the weeping willows which surrounded it. A roofed gallery ran from each side of the gate round the inner wall of the forecourt, in which a few rocks were scattered. On one side of it some green plantains were growing and on the other a weeping variety of Szechwan crab, whose pendant clusters of double-flowering carmine blossoms hung by stems as delicate as golden wires on the umbrella-shaped canopy of its boughs.

‘What magnificent blossom!’ exclaimed the literary gentlemen. ‘One has seen plenty of crab-apple blossom before, but never anything as beautiful as this.’

‘This kind is called “maiden crab”,’ said Jia Zheng. ‘It comes from abroad. According to vulgar belief it originally came from the Land of Maidens, and that is supposed to be the reason why it blooms so profusely. Needless to say, it is only the ignorant sort of persons who hold this ridiculous belief.’

‘It certainly has most unusual blossoms,’ said the literary gentlemen. ‘Who knows, perhaps there is something in the popular belief.’

‘Surely,’ said Bao-yu, ‘it is much more probable that poets and painters gave it the name of “maiden crab” because of its rouge-like colour and delicate, drooping shape, and that the name was misunderstood by ignorant, literal-minded people, who made up this silly story to account for it.’

‘That must be it!’ said the literary gentlemen. ‘Most grateful for the explanation!’

While they were speaking they were at the same time arranging themselves on some benches in the gallery.

‘Has anyone an original idea for a name?’ said Jia Zheng when they were all seated.

One of them proposed ‘Storks in the Plantains’. Another suggested ‘Shimmering Splendour’.

‘“Shimmering Splendour”,’ Jia Zheng and the others repeated, trying out the words. ‘That’s good!’

‘A lovely name!’ said Bao-yu. But a moment later he added: ‘Rather a pity, though.’

‘Why “rather a pity”?’ they asked.

‘Well,’ said Bao-yu, ‘there are both plantains and crab-apple blossom in this courtyard. Whoever planted them must have been thinking of “the red and the green”. If our name mentions only one and leaves out the other, it will seem somehow inadequate.’

‘What do you suggest, then?’ said Jia Zheng.

‘I suggest “Fragrant Red and Lucent Green”,’ said Bao-yu. ‘That takes account of both of them.’

Jia Zheng shook his head:

‘No, that’s no good!’

He led them inside the building. Its interior turned out to be all corridors and alcoves and galleries, so that properly speaking it could hardly have been said to have rooms at all. The partition walls which made these divisions were of wooden panelling exquisitely carved in a wide variety of motifs: bats in clouds, the ‘three friends of winter’ – pine, plum and bamboo, little figures in landscapes, birds and flowers, scrollwork, antique bronze shapes, ‘good luck’ and ‘long life’ characters, and many others. The carvings, all of them the work of master craftsmen, were beautified with inlays of gold, mother-o’-pearl and semi-precious stones. In addition to being panelled, the partitions were pierced by numerous apertures, some round, some square, some sunflower-shaped, some shaped like a fleur-de-lis, some cusped, some fan-shaped. Shelving was concealed in the double thickness of the partition at the base of these apertures, making it possible to use them for storing books and writing materials and for the display of antique bronzes, vases of flowers, miniature tray-gardens and the like. The overall effect was at once richly colourful and, because of the many apertures, airy and graceful.

The trompe-l’ail effect of these ingenious partitions had been further enhanced by inserting false windows and doors in them, the former covered in various pastel shades of gauze, the latter hung with richly-patterned damask portières. The main walls were pierced with window-like perforations in the shape of zithers, swords, vases and other objects of virtù.

The literary gentlemen were rapturous:

‘Exquisite!’ they cried. ‘What marvellous workmanship!’

Jia Zheng, after taking no more than a couple of turns inside this confusing interior, was already lost. To the left of him was what appeared to be a door. To the right was a wall with a window in it. But on raising its portière he discovered the door to be a bookcase; and when, looking back, he observed – what he had not noticed before – that the light coming in through the silk gauze of the window illuminated a passage-way leading to an open doorway, and began walking towards it, a party of gentlemen similar to his own came advancing to meet him, and he realized that he was walking towards a large mirror. They were able to circumvent the mirror, but only to find an even more bewildering choice of doorways on the other side.

‘Come!’ said Cousin Zhen with a laugh. ‘Let me show you the way! If we go out here we shall be in the back courtyard. We can reach the gate of the garden much more easily from the back courtyard than from the front.’

He led them round the gauze hangings of a summer-bed, then through a door into a garden full of rambler roses. Behind the rose-trellis was a stream running between green banks. The literary gentlemen were intrigued to know where the water came from. Cousin Zhen pointed in the direction of the weir they had visited earlier:

‘The water comes in over that weir, then through the grotto, then under the lea of the north-east “mountain” to the little farm. There a channel is led off it which runs into the south-east corner of the garden. Then it runs round and rejoins the main stream here. And from here the water flows out again underneath that wall.’

‘How very ingenious!’

They moved on again, but soon found themselves at the foot of a tall ‘mountain’.

‘Follow me!’ said Cousin Zhen, amused at the bewilderment of the others, who were now completely at sea as to their whereabouts. He led them round the foot of the ‘mountain’ – and there, miraculously, was a broad, flat path and the gate by which they had entered, rising majestically in front of them.

‘Well!’ exclaimed the literary gentlemen. ‘This beats everything! The skill with which this has all been designed is quite out of this world!’

Whereupon they all went out of the garden.

Bao-yu was now longing to get back to the girls, but as no dismissal was forthcoming from his father, he followed him along with the others into his study. Fortunately Jia Zheng suddenly recollected that Bao-yu was still with him:

‘Well, run along then! Your grandmother will be worrying about you. I take it you’re not still waiting for more?’

At last Bao-yu could withdraw. But as soon as he was in the courtyard outside, he was waylaid by a group of Jia Zheng’s pages who laid hands on him and prevented him from going.

‘You’ve done well today, haven’t you, coming out top with all those poems? You have us to thank for that! Her Old Ladyship sent round several times asking about you, but because the Master was so pleased with you, we told her not to worry. If we hadn’t done that, you wouldn’t have had the chance to show off your poems! Everyone says they were better than all the others. What about sharing your good luck with us?’

Bao-yu laughed good-naturedly.

‘All right. A string of cash each.’

‘Who wants a measly string of cash? Give us that little purse you’re wearing!’ And without a ‘by your leave’ they began to despoil him, beginning with the purse and his fan-case, of all his trinkets, until every one of the objects he carried about him had been taken from him.

‘Now,’ they said, ‘we’ll see you back in style!’

And closing round him, they marched him back to Grandmother Jia’s apartment in triumphal procession.

Grandmother Jia had been waiting for him with some anxiety, and was naturally delighted to see him come in apparently none the worse for his experience.

Soon after, when he was back in his own room, Aroma came in to pour him some tea and noticed that all the little objects he usually carried about his waist had disappeared.

‘Where have the things from your belt gone?’ she said. ‘I suppose those worthless pages have taken them again.’

Dai-yu overheard her and came up to inspect. Sure enough, not one of the things was there.

‘So you’ve given away that little purse I gave you? Very well, then. You needn’t expect me to give you anything in future, however much you want it!’

With these words she went off to her own room in a temper, and taking up a still unfinished perfume sachet which she was making for him at his own request, she began to cut it up with her embroidery scissors. Bao-yu, observing that she was angry, had hurried after her – but it was too late. The sachet was already cut to pieces.

Although it had not been finished, Bao-yu could see that the embroidery was very fine, and it made him angry to think of the hours and hours of work so wantonly destroyed. Tearing open his collar he took out the little embroidered purse which had all along been hanging round his neck and held it out for her to see.

‘Look! What’s that? When have I ever given anything of yours to someone else?’

Dai-yu knew that he must have treasured her gift to have worn it inside his clothing where there was no risk of its being taken from him. She regretted her over-hasty destruction of the sachet and hung her head in silence.

‘You needn’t have cut it up,’ said Bao-yu. ‘I know it’s only because you hate giving things away. Here, you can have this back too since you’re so stingy!’

He tossed the purse into her lap and turned to go. Dai-yu burst into tears of rage, and picking up the little purse, attacked that too with her scissors. Bao-yu hurried back and caught her by the wrist.

‘Come, cuzzy dear!’ he said with a laugh. ‘Have mercy on it!’

Dai-yu threw down the scissors and wiped her streaming eyes.

‘You shouldn’t blow hot and cold by turns. If you want to quarrel, let’s quarrel properly and have nothing to do with each other!’

She got up on the kang in a great huff, and turning her back on him, sobbed into her handkerchief and affected to ignore his presence. But Bao-yu got up beside her, and with many soothing words and affectionate endearments humbly entreated her forgiveness.

Meanwhile in the front room Grandmother Jia was calling loudly for her beloved grandson.

‘Master Bao is in the back with Miss Lin,’ they told her.

‘Ah, good!’ said the old lady. ‘Let us leave them alone together, then. It will be a nice relaxation for him after the strain of being so long with his father – as long as they don’t argue.’

‘Yes, milady.’

Finding herself unable to shake off Bao-yu’s attentions, Dai-yu got up from the kang:

‘I can see you are determined not to let me live in peace. I shall just have to go elsewhere.’ And off she went.

‘Wherever you go, I shall go with you,’ said Bao-yu, taking up the purse and beginning to fasten it on again. But Dai-yu snatched it away from him.

‘First you say you don’t want it, and now you are trying to put it on again. You ought to be ashamed of yourself!’

Her anger dissolved in a little explosion of laughter.

‘Dearest cuzzy!’ said Bao-yu. ‘Won’t you please make me another sachet?’

‘That depends on whether I feel in the mood or not,’ said Dai-yu.

Chatting together they went out of the room and round to Lady Wang’s apartment. Bao-chai was there already. They found everyone there in a state of great excitement owing to the fact that Jia Qiang had just arrived back from Soochow with the twelve child-actresses he had purchased there, together with their instructors and all the costumes and properties they would use in performing their plays.

Aunt Xue had now moved to a quiet, secluded apartment in the north-east corner of the mansion, and Pear-tree Court was undergoing alterations for use as a drama school where the instructors could train and rehearse their little charges. A number of female members of the Rong-guo staff who had some previous training in singing and acting – they were all grey-haired old women by now – were put in charge of the domestic arrangements. Pay and expenses and the provision of whatever was needed for the maintenance of the troupe was to remain in the hands of Jia Qiang, who was also to keep the accounts.

Simultaneously with this arrival, Lin Zhi-xiao’s wife had come to announce that the selection and purchase of twenty-four little nuns – twelve Buddhist and twelve Taoist – had been successfully accomplished. Even the twenty-four little habits they would wear had now arrived brand-new from the tailor. But that was not all. It appeared that a young lady who had entered the church under half vows as an ‘unshaved nun’ might be persuaded to join them.

‘She comes of a highly educated official family from Soochow,’ Lin Zhi-xiao’s wife told them. ‘As a child she was always ailing and her parents paid for any number of “proxy novices” in the hope that she would get better; but all was of no avail. In the end there was nothing for it but for the young lady to take the great step herself – though as a lay sister, without the shaving of hair. And sure enough her illness got better immediately. She is now eighteen years of age. Her name in religion is “Adamantina”. She lost both her parents some time ago and has only two old nurses and a little maid to look after her. She’s said to be a great clerk and knows all the classics by heart. What’s more, she is a very handsome young woman. She moved into this area with her teacher a year ago because of some relic of Guanyin she had heard about and because there are some old Sanskrit texts here that she wanted to look at. She has been living ever since in the Śakyamuni Convent outside the west gate. Her teacher was a great authority on the “Primordial” branch of the Tantra. She died last winter. As she lay dying she told Adamantina that she was not to go back home, but to wait here quietly for a call. That is why she stays on here and has never taken her teacher’s coffin back.’

‘We should certainly take advantage of this to invite her here,’ said Lady Wang.

‘We have tried asking her,’ said Lin Zhi-xiao’s wife, ‘but the reply she gives is that noble households are given to trampling on other people’s feelings, and she is not disposed to be trampled on.’

‘She is bound to be rather a proud young woman, coming from a family of officials,’ said Lady Wang. ‘I don’t see why we shouldn’t make out a written invitation and request her formally.’

Lin Zhi-xiao’s wife promised to see this done and hurried off to ask one of the professional letter-writers in the family’s employment to make out a formal invitation. Next day a carriage was sent round to fetch Adamantina to the mansion in a style befitting a young gentlewoman of tender susceptibilities.

But as to what happened thereafter: that will be disclosed in the ensuing chapter.