seat in the centre and elegant curtains were hung within and without. At noon next day, when the Minister arrived, his host met him at the gate in full court costume. He stood by while Tung Cho stepped out of his chariot and he and a host of armed guards crowded into the hall. Tung Cho took his seat at the top, his suite fell into two lines right and left, while the host stood humbly at the lower end. Tung Cho bade his people conduct Wang to a place beside himself.
Said Wang, “The great minister’s abundant virtue is as the high mountains; neither I Yin nor Duke Chou could attain thereto.”
Tung Cho smiled. They bore in the dishes and the wine and the music began. Wang Yün plied his guest with assiduous flattery and studied deference. When it grew late and the wine had done its work the guest was invited to the inner chamber. So he sent away his guards and went. Here the host raised a goblet and drank to his guest saying “From my youth up I have understood something of astrology and have been studying the aspect of the heavens. I read that the days of Han are numbered and that the great Minister’s merits command the regard of all the world as when Shun succeeded Yao and Yü continued the work of Shun, conforming to the mind of heaven and the desire of man.”
“How dare I expect this?” said Cho.
“From the days of old those who walk in the way have replaced those who deviate therefrom; those who lack virtue have fallen before those who possess it. Can one escape fate?”
“If indeed the decree of heaven devolve on me; you shall be held the first in merit,” said Tung Cho.
Wang Yün bowed. Then lights were brought in and all the attendants were dismissed save the serving maids to hand the wine. So the evening went on.
Presently the host said, “The music of these everyday musicians is too commonplace for your ear, but there happens to be in the house a little maid that might please you.”
“Excellent!” said the guest.
Then a curtain was lowered. The shrill tones of reed instruments rang through the room and presently some attendants led forward Cicada, who then danced on the outside of the curtain.
A poem says:—
For a palace this maiden was born,
So timid, so graceful, so slender,
Like a tiny bird flitting at morn
O’er the dew-laden lily-buds tender.
Were this exquisite maid only mine,
For never a mansion I’d pine.
Another poem runs thus:
The music calls; the dancer comes, a swallow gliding in,
A dainty little damsel, light as air;
