egy. Certain of victory, he began planning new campaigns.
To Kuo Kuo he recited a verse from "The Book of Poetry":
"The cricket is in the hall,
And the year is drawing to a close.
If we do not enjoy ourselves now,
The days and months will have fled."
He poured her a cup of rice wine. But she refused it. She felt distressed, as though some gray shadow hung over Changan. "Why do you not finish the song?" she asked petulantly:
"But let us not go to excess,
Let us think of the duties of our position;
Let us not go beyond bounds in our love of pleasure. . . .
The virtuous man is ever on his guard."
He was somewhat drunk and he laughed inordinately. "Since I am Premier of China, what need have I for virtue?" He spoke facetiously but she preferred to take him seriously.
"I don't like it," she said. "Why have you not heard reports of victory?"
"It will come," he assured her.
"Or defeat?"
"Stop it!" he cried harshly. "I'll not have such talk. Defeat is a word I do not know!"
