Kai Lung’s Golden Hours - Ernest Bramah (the reading strategies book .TXT) 📗

streets and byways of Ho Chow moved the imperturbable Thang-li, smiling benevolently on those whom he encountered and encouraging each competitor, and especially Hien and Tsin Lung, with a cheerful proverb suited to the moment.

An outside cause had further contributed to make this period one of the most animated in the annals of Ho Chow, for not only was the city, together with the rest of the imperishable Empire, celebrating a great and popular victory, but, as a direct consequence of that event, the sublime Emperor himself was holding his court at no great distance away. An armed and turbulent rabble of illiterate barbarians had suddenly appeared in the north and, not giving a really sufficient indication of their purpose, had traitorously assaulted the capital. Had he followed the prompting of his own excessive magnanimity, the charitable Monarch would have refused to take any notice whatever of so puny and contemptible a foe, but so unmistakable became the wishes of the Ever-victorious Army that, yielding to their importunity, he placed himself at their head and resolutely led them backward. Had the opposing army been more intelligent, this crafty move would certainly have enticed them on into the plains, where they would have fallen an easy victim to the Imperial troops and all perished miserably. Owing to their low standard of reasoning, however, the mule-like invaders utterly failed to grasp the advantage which, as far as the appearance tended, they might reasonably be supposed to reap by an immediate pursuit. They remained incapably within the capital slavishly increasing its defences, while the Ever-victorious lurked resourcefully in the neighbourhood of Ho Chow, satisfied that with so dull-witted an adversary they could, if the necessity arose, go still further.

Upon a certain day of the period thus indicated there arrived at the gate of the royal pavilion one having the appearance of an aged seer, who craved to be led into the Imperial Presence.

“Lo, Mightiest,” said a slave, bearing in this message, “there stands at the outer gate one resembling an ancient philosopher, desiring to gladden his failing eyesight before he Passes Up with a brief vision of your illuminated countenance.”

“The petition is natural but inopportune,” replied the agreeable Monarch. “Let the worthy soothsayer be informed that after an exceptionally fatiguing day we are now snatching a few short hours of necessary repose, from which it would be unseemly to recall us.”

“He received your gracious words with distended ears and then observed that it was for your All-wisdom to decide whether an inspired message which he had read among the stars was not of more consequence than even a refreshing sleep,” reported the slave, returning.

“In that case,” replied the Sublimest, “tell the persevering wizard that we have changed our minds and are religiously engaged in worshipping our ancestors, so that it would be really sacrilegious to interrupt us.”

“He kowtowed profoundly at the mere mention of your charitable occupation and proceeded to depart, remarking that it would indeed be corrupt to disturb so meritorious an exercise with a scheme simply for your earthly enrichment,” again reported the message-bearer.

“Restrain him!” hastily exclaimed the broadminded Sovereign. “Give the venerable necromancer clearly to understand that we have worshipped them enough for one day. Doubtless the accommodating soothsayer has discovered some rare jewel which he is loyally bringing to embellish our crown.”

“There are rarer jewels than those which can be pasted in a crown, Supreme Head,” said the stranger, entering unperceived behind the attending slave. He bore the external signs of an infirm magician, while his face was hidden in a cloth to mark the imposition of a solemn vow. “With what apter simile,” he continued, “can this person describe an imperishable set of verses which he heard this morning falling from the lips of a wandering musician like a seven-roped cable of pearls pouring into a silver bucket? The striking and original title was ‘Concerning Spring,’ and although the snow lay deep at the time several bystanders agreed that an azalea bush within hearing came into blossom at the eighty-seventh verse.”

“We have heard of the poem to which you refer with so just a sense of balance,” said the impartial Monarch encouragingly. (Though not to create a two-sided impression it may be freely stated that he himself was the author of the inspired composition.) “Which part, in your mature judgment, reflected the highest genius and maintained the most perfectly-matched analogy?”

“It is aptly said: ‘When it is dark the sun no longer shines, but who shall forget the colours of the rainbow?’ ” replied the astrologer evasively. “How is it possible to suspend topaz in one cup of the balance and weigh it against amethyst in the other; or who in a single language can compare the tranquillizing grace of a maiden with the invigorating pleasure of witnessing a well-contested rat-fight?”

“Your insight is clear and unbiased,” said the gracious Sovereign. “But however entrancing it is to wander unchecked through a garden of bright images, are we not enticing your mind from another subject of almost equal importance?”

“There is yet another detail, it is true,” admitted the sage, “but regarding its comparative importance a thoroughly loyal subject may be permitted to amend the remark of a certain wise Emperor of a former dynasty: ‘Any person in the City can discover a score of gold mines if necessary, but One only could possibly have written “Concerning Spring.” ’ ”

“The arts may indeed be regarded as lost,” acquiesced the magnanimous Head, “with the exception of a solitary meteor here and there. Yet in the trivial matter of mere earthly enrichment⁠—”

“Truly,” agreed the other. “There is, then, a whisper in the province that the floor of the Imperial treasury is almost visible.”

“The rumour, as usual, exaggerates the facts grossly,” replied the Greatest. “The floor of the Imperial treasury is quite visible.”

“Yet on the first day of the next moon the not inconsiderable revenue contributed by those who present themselves for the examination will flow in.”

“And by an effete and unworthy custom almost immediately flow out again