Page:Frank Owen - The Scarlett Hill, 1941.djvu/199

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The Scarlet Hill

"Steady," he whispered, "unless you would have your head chopped neatly from your shoulders for affronting Ming Huang."

The Emperor had taken no notice of the incident.

"Rise," he ordered.

Chih-chang had succeeded in propping him up.

"What is your name?"

As Li Po attempted to answer a great hiccough sprang from his lips and echoed through an astounded court. Unperturbed, the poet quickly found speech, "My name is Li Po. Not knowing that I was to be honored in so signal a manner by being presented to your Majesty, I have been indulging in wine to a limited extent. As a plant takes stains from silk, so doth wine remove sadness from the heart. Even your Majesty must admit that when one has good wine, a graceful boat, a maiden to adore, one has everything."

The Emperor smiled. "Wine needs no defence. Its curative powers to obliterate melancholy are universally known. But tell me, Li Po, a little of your history."

"I was born in Pa-hsian of Imperial descent. The family of Li is wealthy, doubly wealthy since I am their son. At ten years of age I could write verses that made older poets to tear out their beards. Perhaps it was because I soared to heights of which they could not dream. . . . I crave your Majesty's indulgence but unless you order the room to cease from spinning round, I will not be able to proceed. Besides it is too hot."

"Ho Chih-chang will show you to the garden. You can bathe your face in a running brook."

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