02 召南 Shaou Nan, Book II, of Part I.
誰謂雀無角、何以穿我屋。 誰謂女無家、何以速我獄。 雖速我獄、室家不足。
誰謂鼠無牙、何以穿我墉。 誰謂女無家、何以速我訟。 雖速我獄、亦不女從。
Wet lay the dew on the path: -- Might I not [have walked there] in the early dawn? But I said there was [too] much dew on the path.
Who can say the sparrow has no horn? How else can it bore through my house? Who can say that you did not get me betrothed? How else could you have urged on this trial? But though you have forced me to trial, Your ceremonies for betrothal were not sufficient.
Who can say that the rat has no molar teeth? How else could it bore through my wall? Who can say that you did not get me betrothed? How else could you have urged on this trial? But though you have forced me to trial, I will still not follow you.
Ode 6. Narrative; and allusive. A lady resists an attempt to force her to marry, and argues her cause.
The old interpreters thought that we have here a specimen of the cases that came before the duke Shaou; and Choo does not contradict them. Lëw Hëang (列女傳, 貞順篇) gives this tradition of the origin of the piece: -- A lady of Shin was promised in marriage to a man of Fung. The ceremonial offerings from his family, however, were not so complete as the rules required; and when he wished to meet her and convey her home, she and her friends refused to carry out the engagement. The other party brought the case to trial, and the lady made this ode, asserting that, while a single rule of ceremony was not complied with, she would not allow herself to be forced from her parents' house.
St. 1. Yeh-yih conveys the idea of 'being wet.' 行 = 道, 'way,' 'path.' 夙夜, -- see on II.3. The difficulty in interpreting and translating this stanza arises from 豈不 'How not,' which must be supplemented in some way. Maou takes the characters as 有是, 'there was this;' meaning, acc. to K'ang-shing, that she might have been married at this dewy season of the year in the early morning. But on this allusive view, I cannot understand the last line, and hold, therefore, that the lady is here simply giving an illustration of the regard for her safety and character which she was in the habit of manifesting.
Stt.2.3 contain the argument. Appearances were against the lady; but to herself she was justified in her course. People would infer from seeing the hole made by a sparrow, that it was provided with a horn, though in reality it has none.
Her 2d illustration is defective, if we take 牙 to mean, as is commonly said, only 'the grinders,' in opposition to 齒, the front or incisor teeth, for the rat has both incisors and molars, wanting only the intermediate teeth. But by 牙 is probably to understand all the other teeth but the incisors. People might infer from seeing what it did, that its mouth was full of teeth, which is not the case. So they might infer, from her being brought by her prosecutors to trial, that their case was complete; but in reality it was not so.
[James Legge translates 牙 by molar teeth, and thinks the defendant’s argument was defective, actually it’s not so. 牙 in Shwo-wăn (說文): “牡齒也,” means ‘male tusk’, the character belongs to the pictograms category, and resembles the criss-cross of tusks. Both 牙 and 齒 belongs to the category of phono-semantic compound characters, the lower part radical resembles a mouth full of teeth, it has two rows of 从 separated by a 一, which in turn are encircled by 凵, the appearance of a lower lip of the mouth. We can easily see the difference between the 齒 and 牙. The 牙 comprises of two curly elongated tusks, which criss-cross with each other.
Tusks can be canines, such as warthog, wild boar, pig, and walruses, or in the case of elephants, elongated incisors. Boars or pigs are commonly seen digging through field to search for food, and believed to be very powerful. But a domesticated pig, which is castrated, although has big tusk, it becomes very weak, and useless. So in the Book of Change (Yi Jing), hexagram 26th, the fifth Six, 豶豕之牙, ‘the teeth of a castrated hog’, this has the same meaning as ‘toothless tiger,’ but it occupies the right and central place, there will be ‘good fortune’, and ‘occasion for congratulation.’
In this case, the rat lacks the tusks as a hog or an elephant does, and not as powerful as these animals, but it still bore through the wall. This makes a parallel argument of the hornless sparrow, ‘Who can say that the rat has no molar teeth? How else could it bore through my wall?’ – note by editor.]
The 3d line is very perplexing, --女 (=汝, 'you') 無家; but all the critics agree that we are to understand by 家 all the formalities of engagement and betrothal (以媒聘求為室家之禮). We must take 室家 is the last line of st.2 in the same way. 速 = 召致, 'to summon and bring to.' 獄 and 訟 are both = 'trial.' Maou give for the former 埆, which should be, as in the Shwoh-wan, 确, the place where the defendant was confined while the case was pending.
The rhymes are --in st.1, 露, 夜*; in 2. 角, 屋, 獄, 足; in 3, 牙, 家, 墉, 訟, 從.
[This] umbrageous sweet pear-tree; -- Clip it not, hew it not down. Under it the chief of Zhou lodged.
[This] umbrageous sweet pear-tree; -- Clip it not, break not a twig of it. Under it the chief of Zhou rested.
[This] umbrageous sweet pear-tree; -- Clip it not, bend not a twig of it. Under it the chief of Zhou halted.
Ode.5. Narrative. The love of the people for the memory of the duke of Shaou mkaes them love the trees beneath which he had rested.
召伯 might be translated 'Shaou the chief;' -- see note on the title of the Book. The nobleman is called pih, not as lord or duke of Shaou, but as invested with jurisdiction over all the State of the west. In the exercise of that, he had won the hearts of the people, and his memory was somehow connected with the tree which the poet had before his mind's eye, who makes the people therefore, as Tso-she says (XI. ix. under p.1), 'think of the man and love the tree.' Stories are related by Han Ying and Lëw Heang of the way in which the chief executed his functions in the open air; but they owed their origin probably to the ode. We do not need them to enable us to enter into its spirit.
The kan-t'ang is, no doubt, a species of pear-tree. Maou identifies it with the too (杜), after the Urh-ya; others distinguish between them, saying that the fruit of the t'ang was whitish and sweet, while that of the too is red and sour. Maou makes 蔽芾 = 'small-like;' much better seems to be Choo's view of the phrase, which I have followed. 伐 = 擊, 'to strike' the tree, 'hew it down;' 敗, acc to Choo, = 折, 'to break it;' and 拜 = 屈, 'to bend it,' -- as the body is bent in bowing. The tree becomes dearer, the more the poet keeps it before him. The concluding characters of the stanzas have nearly the same meaning. 茇 is explained by 草舍, 'to halt among the grass;' 說 (read shwuy; al. 稅), simply by 舍, 'to halt,' 'to lodge;' and 憩, (al. 愒), by 息, 'to rest.'
The rhymes are -- in st.1, 伐, 茇; 敗, 憩; in 3, 拜, 說.
She gathers the large duckweed, By the banks of the stream in the southern valley. She gathers the pondweed, In those pools left by the floods.
She deposits what she gathers, In her square baskets and round ones. She boils it, In her tripods and pans .
She sets forth her preparations, Under the window in the ancestral chamber. Who superintends the business? It is [this] reverent young lady.
Ode 4. Narrative. The diligence and reverence of the young wife of an officer, doing her part in sacrificial offering.
The ancient and modern interpreters are to some extent agreed in their views of this ode. Wherein they differ will be noticed under the 3d stanza.
St.1. 于以, -- see on ode 2. the p'in belongs to the same species of aquatic plants as the 荇菜 of i.I. The Pun-ts'aou says there are three varieties of it: -- the large, called P'in; the small called 浮萍; and middle, called 荇菜. Maou makes the p'in the large variety, while Choo and some others make it the 3d. Yen Ts'an observes that the p'in may be eaten; but not the fow p'ing. If the p'ing could not be eaten, it is not likely, he says, it would be gathered, like the plant here, to be used in sacrifice. The p'in is, probably, the lemna trisulea. The Tsaou is the tussel-pondweed, --ruppia rostella. Both by Maou and Choo it is called 聚藻, whom the strings of tufts in which it grows. Williams erroneously translates 行潦 by 'a torrent.' 潦 is, primarily, the 'appearance of great rain;' then 行潦, is the rain left after a heavy fall of it, and by the flooded streams, on the roads and plains.
St.2. K'wang and keu are distinguished as in the translation. They were both made of bamboo. 湘 is defined by 烹 'to boil.' The vegetables were slightly boiled and then pickled, in order to their being presented as sacrificial offerings. The 錡 is distinguished from 釜, as 'having feet.'
St. 3 . 奠 = 置, 'to place,' 'to set forth.' 宗室 simply = 'the ancestral temple.' More particularly, however, the phrase may = 'the ancestral chamber,' a room behind the temple, specially dedicated 大宗 or 'ancestor of the great officer,' whose wife is the subject of the piece. The princes of States were succeeded, of course, by the eldest son of the wife proper. Their sons by other wives (庶子) were called 'other sons (別子).' The eldest son by the wife proper of one of them became the 大宗 of the clan descended from him, and the 宗室 was an apartment dedicated to him. The old interpreters, going upon certain statements as to the training of the daughters in the business of sacrifices in this apartment, for 3 months previous to their marriage, contend that the lady spoken of was not yet married, but that the piece speaks of her undergoing this preparatory education. The imperial editors mention their view with respect, but think it better to abide by that of Choo. The door of the 室 was on the east side of it, and the window on the west; and by the 牖下 is to be understood the south corner beyond the window, which was the most honoured spot of the apartment. In 1.3, 尸 = 主, 'to superintend.' The 其 is little more than a particle. In cases like text, Wang Yin-che calls it 擬議之詞, 'a term or particle of deliberative inquiry.' The wife presided over the arrangement of the dishes in sacrifice, and filling them with the vegetables and sauces. 齊(read chae) = 敬, 'to respect,' 'reverent.' 季= 少, 'young.' This term gives some confirmation to the old interpretation of the ode.
The rhymes are -- in st.1. 蘋, 濱; 藻, 潦; 筥, 釜; 下*,女.
喓喓草蟲、趯趯阜螽。 未見君子、憂心忡忡。 亦既見止、亦既覯止、我心則降。
陟彼南山、言采其蕨。 未見君子、憂心惙惙。 亦既見止、亦既覯止、我心則說。
陟彼南山、言采其薇。 未見君子、我心傷悲。 亦既見止、亦既覯止、我心則夷。
Yao-yao went the grass-insects, And the hoppers sprang about. While I do not see my lord, My sorrowful heart is agitated. Let me have seen him, Let me have met him, And my heart will then be stilled.
I ascended that hill in the south, And gathered the turtle-foot ferns. While I do not see my lord, My sorrowful heart is very sad. Let me have seen him, Let me have met him, And my heart will then be pleased .
I ascended that hill in the south, And gathered the thorn-ferns. While I do not see my lord, My sorrowful heart is wounded with grief. Let me have seen him, Let me have met him, And my heart will then be at peace.
Ode 3. Narrative. The wife of some great officer bewails his absence on duty, and longs for the joy of his return.
All the critics agree that the speaker is the wife of a great officer. According to Choo's view, she speaks as she is moved by the phaenomena of the different seasons which she observes, and gives expression to the regrets and hopes which she cherished. He compares the piece with the 3d and 10th of last book. The different view of the older interpreters will be noticed in the concluding note.
St.1. L1.1,2 喓 (Shwoh-wăn does not give the character) 喓is intended to give the sound made by the one insect; and 趯趯 represents the jumping of the other. What specific names they should receive is yet to be determined. I have meanwhile, translate 草螽 literally. It is described as 'a kind of locust, green and with a wonderful not.' The pictures of it are like the locusta viridissima. The 阜蟲 is, probably, the common grasshopper; --Seu Ting (徐鼎; of the time of K'ëen-lung) says there can be doubt of it (蚱蜢無疑也). The Urh-ya calls it 蠜, and the former 負蠜, or 'carrier of the fan.' These names arose from the belief that when the one gave out its note, the other leaped to it, and was carried on its back. 'They thus,' says K'ang-shing, 'sought each other like husband and wife.' This is the foundation of the old interpretation of the piece.
L.4, in all stanzas. 忡忡 = 'to be agitated.' as if it were 衝衝. The Shwoh-wan explains both 忡 and 忡惙 by 憂. The predicates in all the three stanzas rise upon each other, as do those in the concluding lines.
L1.5.-7. Of 亦 and 止 we can say nothing but that they are two particles untranslateable; one initial, the other final. So Wang Yin-che. The turn in the thought, indeed, makes 亦 = 'but.'
Stt.2,3. L.2. 蕨 and 薇 are both ferns. Williams says on the former: --'An edible fern; the stalks are cooked for food, when tender, and a flour is made from the root. The drawing of the plant resembles an arpidium.' Choo says, 'The wei resembles the keueh, but in rather longer; it has spinous points and a bitter taste. The people among the hills eat it.' The keueh is also called 蹩 and 蹩腳, as in the translation.
They rhymes are -- in st.1, 蟲, 螽, 忡, 降; in 2, 蕨, 惙, 說; in 3, 薇, 悲, 夷.
Note on the interpretation.
The old interpreters say, like Choo, that the subject of the ode is 'the wife of a great officer;' but they make the subject of her distress, not the absence of her husband, but the anxiety incident to the uncertainty as to the establishment of her state as his acknowledged wife. According to the customs of those days, ladies underwent a probation of 3 months after their 1st reception by their husbands, at the end of which time they might be sent back as 'not approved.' The lady of the ode is supposed to be brooding during this period over her separation from her parents; and then anticipating the declaration of her husband's satisfaction with her, which would be an abundant consolation. I have noticed the allusion in the 1st two lines of the 1st st., which may be tortured into a justification of this view; but the other stanzas have nothing analogues. The interpretation may well provoke a laugh. The imperial editors take no notice of it.
She gathers the white southernwood, By the ponds, on the islets. She employs it, In the business of our prince.
She gathers the white southernwood, Along the streams in the valleys. She employs it, In the temple of our prince.
With head-dress reverently rising aloft, Early, while yet it is night, she is in the prince's temple; In her dead-dress, slowly retiring, She returns to her own apartments.
Ode 2. Narrative The industry and reverence of a prince's wife, assisting him in sacrificing.
Here we must suppose the ladies of a harem, in one of the States of the South, admiring and praising the way in which their mistress discharged her duties; --all, of course, add the commentators, through the transforming influence of the court of Chow. There is a view that it is not sacrificing that is spoken of, which I will point out in a concluding note.
St.1. L.1 Maou says 于 = 於, which it is in the next line; but 于以 cannot be so construed. K'ang-shing and Ying-tah, seeing this, made 于 = 往, which would do in the 1st line, but not in the 3d. Our best plan is to take 于 and 以 together as a compound particle, untranslateable; so Wang T'aou (于以猶薄言, 皆發聲語助也). 蘩 is, no doubt, a kind of artimisia, and is defined as 白蒿, after which Medhust terms it 'white southernwood.' Its leaf is coarser than that of the other haou, with white hairs on it. It does not grow high, like other varieties, but thick. The fan was used both in sacrifices, and in feeding silkworms.
L.2. 沼 is a pool or natural pond, of irregular crooked shape, distinguished from 池, which is round. The general name for island is 洲; a small chow is called 渚; and a small choo, 沚. The fan is not a water plant, so that we must take 于 as = 'by,' 'on.'
L.4. By 事 we must understand the business of sacrifice, the business, by way of eminence. The sacrifice intended, moreover, must be celebrated in the ancestral temple, within the precincts of the palace, as the lady could take no part in sacrifices outside those. 公侯, -- together, as in i. VII. The lady's husband might be a 公 or a 侯.
St.2. 澗 is 'a stream in a valley (山夾水).' Here, however, the idea is more that of a valley with a stream in it. 宮 = 廟, 'the ancestral temple;' so, often in the Ch'un Ts'ëw.
St.3. 被 is described as 首飾, 'an ornament for the head,' and as being made of hair plaited. It was probably the same with what is elsewhere called the 副, though Ying-tah identifies it with the 次. 僮僮 (written also without the 人 at the side) is defined by Maou, as = 竦敬, 'standing up high and reverently.' Then 祁祁, in 1.3, is said to be 舒遲貌, ' the appearance of leisurely ease.' Both the predicates belong in the construction to the head-dress; in reality to the lady. -- 夙夜 is not 'from morning till night,' as Lacharme takes it, but early in the morning, while it was yet dark (夙夜, 非自夙至夜, 乃夜之夙也, 昧晦未分為夜, 天光向辰為夙). The 公 in L3 = 公所, 'the prince's palace' the temple of last st. It must not be taken, says Choo, of 'the prince's private chamber.'
The rhymes are --in st. 1, 沚, 事; in 2, 中,宮; in 3, 僮, 公; 祁, 歸.
Note on the interpretation.
The interpretation of the ode above given is satisfactory enough. Choo mentions another, however, which would also suit the exigencies of the case pretty well; --that it refers to the duties of the prince's wife in his silk-worm establishment. The fan would be useful in this, as a decoction from its leaves, sprinkled on the silkworms' eggs, is said to facilitate their hatching. The imperial editors fully exhibit this view, but do not give it the preference. Le Kwang-te (李光地; of the pres. dyn.) adopts it in his 詩所, and takes no notice of the other.
The nest is the magpie’s; The dove dwells in it. This young lady is going to her future home; A hundred carriages are meeting her.
The nest is the magpie’s; The dove possesses it. This young lady is going to her future home; A hundred carriages are escorting her.
The nest is the magpie’s; The dove fills it. This young lady is going to her future home; These hundreds of carriages complete her array.
Title of the Book - 召南一之一, 'Shaou Nan, Book II, of Part I.' On the title of the last Book, it has been stated that king Wan, on removing to Fung, divided the original Chow of his House into two portions, which he settled on his son Tan, the duke of Chow, and on Shih, one of his principal adherents, the duke of Shaou. The site of the city of Shaou was in dep. of Fung-ts'ëang, and probably in the dis. of K'e-shan. Shih was of the Chow surname of Ke (姬), and is put down by Hwang-poo Meih as a son of Wan by a concubine; but this is uncertain. After his death, he received the honorary name of K'ang (康公). On the overthrow of the Shang dyn., he was invested by king Woo with the principality of Yen, or North Yen (北燕), having its capital in the pres. dis. of Ta-hing (大興), dep. of Shun-t'ëen, where his descendants are traced, down to the Ts'in dyn. He himself, however, as did Tan, remained at the court of Chow, and we find them, in the Shoo, as the principal ministers of King Ching. They were known as the 'highest dukes(上公),' and the 'two great chiefs (二伯),' Tan having charge of the eastern portions of the kingdom, and Shih of the western.
The pieces in this Book are supposed to have been produced in Shaou and the principalities south of it, west from those that yielded the odes of the Chow-nan.
Ode 1. Allusive. Celebrating the Marriage of a Bride, -- A Princess, to the Prince of Another State.
The critics will all have it, that the poet's object was to set forth 'the virtue of the lady;' and wherein they find the allusion to that will be seen below. For myself I do not see that the virtue of the bride was a point which the writer wished to indicate; his attention was taken by the splendour of the nuptials.
St.1. L.1 維, -- see on i. Ode II.1. Ts'eoh is the magpie. It is common in China, and generally called he-ts'eoh (喜鵲); it makes the same elaborate nest as with ourselves.
L.2. 鳩 is the general name for the dove; here, probably, the turtledove, the she-këw (鳲鳩). It has many local names. I do not know that it is a fact that the dove is to be found breeding in a magpie's nest, as is here assumed; but Maou K'e-ling vehemently asserts it, and says that any one with eyes may see about the villages a flock of doves contending with as many magpies, and driving the latter from their nests (續詩傳 鳥名卷一). The virtue of the bride is thought to be emblemed by the quietness and stupidity of the dove, unable to make a nest for itself, or making a very simple, unartistic one. The dove is a favourite emblem with all poets for a lady; but surely never, out of China, because of its 'stupidity.' But says Twan Ch'ang-woo (段昌武, towards the end of the Sung dyn.), 'The duties of a wife are few and confined there is no harm in her being stupid.'
L. 4. 兩 = 一車, 'a carriage,' as being supported on two wheels (兩輪), 御 is commonly read here ya, and generally when it has the signification of 'to meet.' But it rhymes here with keu, and the variation of its sound, according to its signification, is a device dating only from the Han dyn. The 100 carriages here are those of the bridegroom and his friends, who come to meet the lady, as she approaches the borders of his State.
St.2 L.2. 方之 = 有之, 'has it.' Yen Ts'an quotes a sentence which ingeniously explains this use of 方 as a verb, -- 方之, 以為其所也.
L.4. 將 = 送, 'to escort.' The carriages here are those of the bride and all her cortege.
St.3. L.2. The 'filling' of the nest allude to the ladies accompanying the bride to the harem. She would be accompanied by two near relatives from her own State, and there would be three ladies from each of two kindred States, so that the prince of a State is described by Kung-yang as 'at once marrying 9 Ladies (諸侯 -- 娶九女).
L.4. The 100 carriages here cover those of each of the previous stanzas. 成之, -- as in i. IV. 3., = 'make her complete.'
The rhymes are -- in st. 1, 居, 御; in 2, 方, 將; in 3, 盈, 成.
Note on the interpretation.
In his interesting essay on the poetry of the Chinese (already referred to), Sir John Davis gives the following paraphrase of this ode: --
'The nest yon winged artist builds,
The robber bird shall tear away;
--So yields her hopes the affianced maid,
Some wealthy lord's reluctant prey.
The anxious bird prepares a home,
In which the spoiler soon shall dwell;
Forth goes the weeping bride, constrain'd,
A hundred cars the triumph swell.
Mourn for the tiny architect,
A stronger bird hath ta'en its nest;
Mourn for the hapless, stolen bride,
How vain the pomp to soothe her breast!'
This is paraphrased, he says, 'to convey the full sense of what is only hinted at in the original, and explained in the commentary.' He has made a little poem, more interesting than the original, but altogether away from the obvious meaning of that original, on a view of it not hinted at in any commentary.
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