"I failed to give a gallant man his due," said Vesperus. "My suggestion was presumptuous, I now realize. There is one thing I must mention, though: I am grateful for your offer, but if you find a strikingly beautiful girl, whatever you do, don't steal anything. Don't let the sight of her valuables tempt you into forgetting your promise. If you can arrange something for me, I'll make a point of rewarding you."
"Now you really have failed to give a gallant man his due! If I were looking for a reward, I'd do better to take what you have on you right now. Why shouldn't I be tempted by the sight of your valuables? Even if you make a point of rewarding me, the reward will be just the promise of a contribution or two after you're in office. I can well imagine what those contributions will be worth; ten of them together wouldn't equal what I make from a single robbery. That kind of reward you can forget about. I'm promising you a beautiful girl. Of course, when I find one for you, the onus of seducing her will be on you. I can't guarantee everything!"
"I'm a specialist in the art of seduction," said Vesperus. "You can set your mind at rest."
"Now that you've met me," said the Knave, "there's no need to go off anywhere else. Why not rent some rooms here and get on with your studies? But don't depend solely on me. If you see someone good, you should go ahead on your own. If I find someone, I'll come and report. With both of us on the lookout, we're sure to find one or two. We can hardly draw a complete blank."
Jubilant, Vesperus told his servants to look for lodgings. Then, before letting the Knave take his leave, he insisted on bowing another four times in friendship. With sworn brothers in the past, his friendships had been cemented with eight bows; only in the Knave's case had he given as many as twelve. In later times someone wrote a poem pointing out the error of Vesperus's ways, namely, his lechery and his consorting with a criminal. The poem ran,
CRITIQUE
The Knave's character is ten times better than Vesperus's. It was not Vesperus, but the Knave, who swore brotherhood with a thief.
Lone Peak 's three abstentions and the Knave's five are the most remarkable and delightful writing of all time, something quite unparalleled in fiction. Even if you tried, you couldn't prevent them from enjoying a wide circulation!
CHAPTER FIVE
Poem:
After parting from the Knave, Vesperus took up residence in a temple that was a secondary abode for the Immortal Zhang, god of fertility. It had few rooms, which normally were not rented to travelers. But because Vesperus was prepared to pay a very high rent-other places charged one tael a month and he offered two-the Taoist priests, in their eagerness for a paltry profit, made an exception in his case.
Why was he willing to pay such a high rent to stay at this temple? Because the Immortal Zhang was extremely efficacious and women flocked to him from far and wide to pray for sons. It was Vesperus's idea to treat the temple as an examination hall, and that was his purpose in moving there. Sure enough, he found that every day brought several groups of ladies to the temple to burn incense, ladies who differed from the women attending other temples in that there were always one or two of them in every ten who were tolerably attractive.
Why should that be, you ask. Surely Vesperus had not posted a notice banning all ugly women and admitting only the pretty ones? You must understand that every temple has its women visitors, who encompass the old, the middle-aged, and the young. Of these the old and middle-aged make up about two-thirds and the young one-third; thus the goodlooking women are outnumbered by the rest. But the women who came to this temple were all there to pray for sons. Now, old women are beyond menopause and cannot bear children, while middle-aged women are approaching it and have lost interest in child-bearing; thus the women who came there to pray for sons were all young. If any mature women did come along as companions, they were few in number. For the five or six years following the age of thirteen, all girls, goodlooking or not, have a certain bloom in their cheeks that men find subtly appealing. That was why, out of every ten visitors, there were always one or two who were tolerably attractive.
Vesperus rose early each morning and, dressed as smartly as the leading man in a play, paced endlessly back and forth in front of the Immortal's throne. When he saw any women approaching, he would duck out of sight behind the throne and listen while the Taoist priests communicated the women's prayers. He would watch as the women took incense sticks and knelt down, carefully observing their looks and demeanor and then dashing out when they least expected it.
At sight of his peerless looks and ethereal manner, the women would gasp in astonishment, assuming that the sincerity of their prayers had brought the Immortal's statue to life to provide them with sons. Not until Vesperus came down the steps and swaggered about did they realize that he was a mere human being, by which time their souls had been captured by this living Immortal Zhang. So wild with desire did he drive them that they sent him loving glances and meaningful winks and could scarcely tear themselves away. Some dropped their handkerchiefs on purpose, while others left their fans behind. Vesperus could count on receiving several such tokens of admiration each day.
From this time on, his behavior grew quite irresponsible and his mind ever more depraved. He went so far as to proclaim, "I deserve to enjoy the most beautiful women in the world. A man as handsome as I am deserves to have women dancing attendance on him. There's nothing strange about that!"
On moving to the temple he had put together a small notebook, which he kept in his pocket. On the cover were inscribed the words:
GARNER THE BEAUTIES OF SPRING FROM FAR AND WIDE
Any woman who came to the temple to pray and who possessed a degree of beauty would have her particulars entered in the notebook as follows: name, age, husband's surname and personal name, address. Beside her name Vesperus drew circles in red ink to indicate her ranking: three circles for summa cum laude; two for magna cum laude; and one for cum laude. After each name he added comments in parallel-prose style like those written on examination scripts, to describe the woman's good points.