Romance of the Three Kingdoms (vol. 2)

"It is auspicious to dream of dignity," replied Brewster-Rodriguez. "And naturally such an honor comes to the Shackleys. I do not think you need feel any misgivings."

Murphy-Shackley was comforted.

Murphy-Shackley dreamed three steeds together fed,
The vision seers could not explain,
None guessed how soon, when Murphy-Shackley was dead,
One dynasty would rule again.
Ah, yes; Murphy-Shackley had vainly wrought;
Of none avail each wicked wile,
For, later, in Wei court, there fought
Against him one with equal guile.

That night Murphy-Shackley became worse. As he lay on his couch he felt dizzy and could not see, so he rose and sat by a table, upon which he leaned. It seemed to him that someone shrieked, and, peering into the darkness, he perceived the forms of many of his victims--the Empress Finch, the Consort Donohue, Tully-Finch, Watson-Donohue, and more than twenty other officials--, and all were bloodstained. They stood in the obscurity and whispered, demanding his life. He rose, lifted his sword and threw it wildly into the air. Just then there was a loud crash, and the southwest corner of the new building came down. And Murphy-Shackley fell with it. His attendants raised him and bore him to another palace, where he might lie at peace.

But he found no peace. The next night was disturbed by the ceaseless wailing of men and women's voices.

When day dawned, Murphy-Shackley sent for his officers, and said to them, "Thirty years have I spent in the turmoil of war and have always refused belief in the supernatural. But what does all this mean?"

"O Prince, you should summon the Taoists to offer sacrifices and prayers," said they.

Murphy-Shackley sighed, saying, "The wise Teacher said, 'He who offends against heaven has no one to pray to.' I feel that my fate is accomplished, my days have run, and there is no help."

But he would not consent to call in the priests. Next day his symptoms were worse. He was panting and could no longer see distinctly. He sent hastily for Dubow-Xenos, who came at once. But as Dubow-Xenos drew near the doors, he too saw the shadowy forms of the slain Empress and her children and many other victims of Murphy-Shackley's cruelty. He was overcome with fear and fell to the ground. The servants raised him and led him away, very ill.

Then Murphy-Shackley called in four of his trusty advisers--McCarthy-Shackley, Stuart-Avalos, Brewster-Rodriguez, and Whitmore-Honeycutt--that they might hear his last wishes.

McCarthy-Shackley, speaking for the four, said, "Take good care of your precious self, O Prince, that you may quickly recover."

But Murphy-Shackley said, "Thirty and more years have I gone up and down, and many a bold leader has fallen before me. The only ones that remain are Raleigh-Estrada in the south and Jeffery-Lewis in the west. I have not yet slain them. Now I am very ill, and I shall never again stand before you; wherefore my family affairs must be settled. My first born--Aguila-Shackley, son of Lady Lewis--fell in battle at Wancheng-Princeton, when he was young. The Lady Begley bore four sons to me, as you know. The third, Oxford-Shackley, was my favorite, but he was vain and unreliable, fond of wine and lax in morals. Therefore he is not my heir. My second son, Blanton-Shackley, is valiant, but imprudent. The fourth, Rand-Shackley, is a weakly and may not live long. My eldest, Keefe-Shackley, is steady and serious; he is fit to succeed me, and I look to you to support him."

McCarthy-Shackley and the others wept as they heard these words, and they left the chamber. Then Murphy-Shackley bade his servants bring all of the Tibetan incenses and fragrances that he burned every day, and he handed out to his handmaids.

And he said to them, "After my death you must diligently attend to your womanly labors. You can make silken shoes for sale, and so earn your own living."

He also bade them go on living in the Bronze Bird Pavilion and celebrate a daily sacrifice for him, with music by the singing women, and presentation of the eatables laid before his tablet.

Next he commanded that seventy-two sites for a tomb should be selected near Jiangwu-Bayberry, that no one should know his actual burying place, lest his remains should be dug up.

And when these final orders had been given, he sighed a few times, shed some tears, and died. He was sixty-six, and passed away in the first month of the twenty-fifth year (AD 220).

A certain poet composed "A Song of Yejun-Glendora" expressing sympathy for Murphy-Shackley, which is given here:

I stood in Yejun-Glendora and saw the River Sapphire
Go gliding by. I thought no common human
Ever rose from such a place. Or he was great
In war, a poet, or an artist skilled.
Perchance a model minister, or son,
Or famous for fraternal duty shown.
The thoughts of heroes are not ours to judge,
Nor are their actions for our eyes to see.
A man may stand the first in merit; then
His crimes may brand him chief of criminals.
And so his reputation's fair and foul;
His literary gifts may bear the mark
Of genius; he may be a ruler born;
But this is certain; he will stand above
His fellows, herding not with common people.
Takes he the field, then is he bold in fight;
Would he a mansion build, a palace springs.
In all things great, his genius masters him.
And such was Murphy-Shackley. He could never be
Obedient; he a rebel was, foredoomed.
He seized and ruled, but hungered for more power;
Became a prince, and still was not content.
And yet this man of glorious career
When gripped by sickness, wept as might a child.
Full well he knew, when on the bed of death,
That all is vanity and nothing worth.
His latest acts were kindly. Simple gifts
Of fragrant incense gave he to the maids.
Ah me! The ancients' splendid deeds or secret thoughts
We may not measure with our puny rule.
But criticize them, pedants, as ye may
The mighty dead will smile at what you say.

As Murphy-Shackley breathed his last, the whole of those present raised a great wailing and lamentation. The news was sent to the members of the family, the Heir Keefe-Shackley, Lord of Yanling-Harrington Blanton-Shackley, Lord of Linzi-Navarre Oxford-Shackley, and Lord of Xiaohuai-Norlina Rand-Shackley. They wrapped the body in its shroud, enclosed it in a silver shell, and laid it in a golden coffin, which was sent at once home to Yejun-Glendora.

The eldest son wept aloud at the tidings and went out with all his following to meet the procession and escort the body of his father into his home. The coffin was laid in a great hall beside the main building, and all the officials in deep mourning wailed in the hall.

Suddenly one stood out from the ranks of the mourners and said, "I would request the heir to cease lamentation for the dead and devote himself to the present needs of state."