while went the broker bidding Kieu come out.
Crushed by her kinsfolk's woe and her own grief,
she crossed the sill, tears flowing at each step.
She felt the chill of winds and dews, ashamed 635
to look at flowers or see her mirrored face.
The broker smoothed her hair and stroked her hand,
coaxing a wilted mum, a gaunt plum branch.
He pondered looks, gauged skills—he made her play
the moon shaped lute, write verses on a fan. 640
Of her lush charms he relished each and all:
well pleased, he set to bargaining a deal.
He said: "For jade I've come to this
tell me how much the bridal gift will cost."
The broker said: "She's worth her weight in gold! 645
But in distress they'll look to your big heart."
They haggled hard and long, then struck a deal:
the price for her, four hundred and some liang.*
All was smooth paddling once they gave their word—*
as pledges they swapped horoscopic cards 650
and set the day when, full paid for, she'd wed.
When cash is ready, what cannot be fixed?
Old Chung was asked to help—at his request,
old Vuong could on probation go back home.
Pity the father facing his young child. 655
Looking at her, he bled and died within:
"You raise a daughter wishing she might find
a fitting match, might wed a worthy mate.
O Heaven, why inflict such woes on us?
Who slandered us to tear our home apart? 660
1 would not mind the ax for these old bones,
but how can I endure my child's ordeal?
Death now or later happens only once¬—
I'd rather pass away than suffer so."
After he'd said those words he shed more tears 665
and made to knock his head against a wall.
They rushed to stop him, then she softly spoke
and with some words of comfort calmed him down:
"What is she worth, a stripling of a girl
who's not repaid one whit a daughter's debts? 670
Ying once shamed me, petitioning the throne—*
could I fall short of Li who sold herself?*
As it grows old, the cedar is a tree*
that singly shoulders up so many boughs.
If moved by love you won't let go of me, 675
I fear a storm will blow and blast our home.
You'd better sacrifice just me—one flower
will turn to shreds, but green will stay the leaves.
Whatever lot befalls me I accept—¬
think me a blossom nipped when budding green. 680
Let no wild notions run around your head
or you shall wreck our home and hurt yourself."
Words of good sense sank smoothly in his ear¬—
they stared at one another, pouring tears.
Outside, that Scholar Ma appeared again— 685
they signed the contract, silver then changed hands.
A wanton god, the Old Man of the Moon,*
at random tying couples with his threads!
When money's held in hand it's no great trick
swaying men's hearts and turning black to white. 690
Old Chung did all he could and gave all help:
gifts once presented, charges were dismissed.
Her family's woes were settled for a time,
but now the bridal hour drew on apace.
Alone, she huddled by the midnight lamp, 695
with tear soaked gown and sorrow withered hair:
"No matter what fate deals me, I will grieve
for him who's steadfast kept the vow he swore.
How much he toiled and strove to win my love!
But grown attached to me, he's marred his life. 700
The cup we both drank from has barely dried
when I now break my oath and play him false.
In far away Liao yang how can he guess
our union's torn asunder by my hand?
