IV. His Pathetic Courtship

CHAPTER IV

HIS PATHETIC COURTSHIP

SOME say that those who have tasted of victory desire that their opponents be as the tiger, or as the eagle, before they are to realize the full joys of victory. But if their opponents are as the sheep or the puny chicken, they lose all joy in the triumph. And there are some who, having had a taste of victory, after an unconditional triumph gaze upon their smitten opponent, who was to have died and did die, who was to have surrendered and did surrender, and the whole atmosphere is filled with the feeling: “I fear you, I fear you. I deserve death, I deserve death.” They, the conquerors, accordingly realize that they have no enemy, no opponent, no friend. Only they themselves remain alone, forlorn, downhearted, silent; instead of the happiness, they realize the bitterness of victory. But our Ah Q surely was not guilty of any such defective reasoning; he enjoyed endless satisfaction. This is, perhaps, one explanation why the spiritual culture of China stands foremost on the face of this whole terrestrial globe.

Lo, Ah Q felt so light with elation that it seemed as if he would rise heavenward!

This particular victory, however, brought about a marked change in his character. He had been soaring on the pinions of elation for some time when he floated to T’uku Temple, where, according to habit, he should have lain down and snored away. How was it to have been expected that on this particular night he should find it exceedingly difficult to close his eyes? He perceived that there was something strange about his thumb and index finger； they seemed to be much smoother than usual. It is not known whether the little nun’s cheek had contained a bit of grease, which had stuck to his finger, or whether his thumb had rubbed her cheek until it had become smooth.

“Sonless, grandsonless Ah Q!” his ears again heard her words. He pondered to himself; there was no mistake in the assertion; he ought to have a mate, for a sonless, grandsonless man has no one to sacrifice a bowl of rice to his manes … yes, he ought to have a mate. There is the saying, “Of the three greatest sins against filial piety, the greatest is the lack of offspring.” And the lack of food for one’s manes is the one great sorrow of life. Hence, his thoughts were in complete harmony with the canons of the saints, but it is regrettable that he afterwards lost part of his self-control.

“Woman, woman!” he pondered. “Woman, woman, woman!” he meditated again. We do not know when Ah Q snored off this evening; but nevertheless we are sure, in a general way, that after he had perceived that his thumb had become smooth, a fluttering thought obsessed his mind. “Woman,” he thought. So from this example, we may see that woman is a destructive creature.

Of the male of the species in China, more than half are capable of becoming saints and men of virtue, but it is regrettable that they are ruined by women. The Shang dynasty was brought to ruin by Ta-chi; Chou was brought to decadency by Pao-szu; as for the Ch’in—although history does not state clearly why it fell, if we assume that its downfall was due to a woman, we may not be far from the truth; but Tung-cho’s death was surely brought about by Tiao-ch’an.

In the past, Ah Q had been a man of strict morals. Although we are not sure whether he had received the gracious and beneficent guidance of a great instructor, still, it is certain that he was very careful and strict about the customary barrier between the sexes. Possessing orthodox views, he also vehemently condemned heresy in any form, such as that of the little nun and that of the “False Foreigner.” As for the nuns, according to his own theory, they were sure to have clandestine relations with the monks. When a woman went about, she was sure to have it in mind to entice a “loose” male. Whenever a man and a maid conversed alone, there certainly was a matter of dark secrecy. (These were Ah Q’s extraordinary musings.) He was in the habit of glaring at such people with furious eyes in order to mete out punishment to them; he might pass a few loud cutting remarks, or, if he happened to be in a remote place, he would throw stones at their backs.

How was it to be anticipated that at the late age of forty, he should be brought so low by a little nun as to feel that he was fluttering, fluttering, fluttering. That fluttering, according to moral teachings, should not have existed; therefore, the female is, without the least doubt, detestable. Now if the little nun’s cheek had not been greasy, Ah Q would not have been enticed. Again, if the little nun had had her face covered with a cloth, Ah Q would not have been tempted. Five or six years ago, while at a crowded openair theatrical performance, he had squeezed past a woman … (and that was the nearest he had come to a woman); but it was not so with the little nun. This manifestly shows the hatefulness of heresy.

“Woman …” thought Ah Q. The women who without a doubt desired to lure on “loose” men he always watched closely, but they had never so much as smiled at him. He ever listened attentively to the women who had spoken to him, but they had never mentioned anything of a suggestive nature. Ah! That was one of the detestable characteristics of the other sex: all of them purposely put on a false modesty.

On one particular day, Ah Q was pounding rice by the day at the home of the Venerable Mr. Chao; he had taken his evening rice and was sitting in the kitchen, smoking dried tobacco. Had he been working elsewhere, he would have returned to his home after evening rice, but the Chao household had its dinner early. Although it was an established rule that no lamps be lighted and that all should retire after the meal, exceptions to the rule, however, had been made: first, at the time when the Venerable Mr. Chao’s eldest son had not yet attained the rank of Hsiu-ts’ai, he was permitted to light the lamp to Study his books; second, when Ah Q came to do odd jobs, he was allowed to light the lamp to pound rice. Because of this last exception to the rule, Ah Q sat in the kitchen, smoking dried tobacco prior to continuing to pound the rice.

Amah Wu, the sole female servant of the Chao household, having washed the dishes, sat down upon a long bench and was talking inconsequentials with Ah Q.

“Our mistress has not touched rice for two days because our master is set on buying a concubine …”

“Woman … Amah Wu … that little widow…,” ran through Ah Q’s mind.

“The daughter-in-law of the house will give birth to a baby on the eighth moon …”

“WOMAN…,” thought Ah Q.

He put down his pipe and stood up.

“The daughter-in-law…,” continued Amah Wu garrulously.    

“Will you … will you …・?” suddenly cried Ah Q, advancing quickly and kneeling before her. For a brief second, there was a deadly silence.

“Eye-yah!” screamed Amah Wu, who had been bewildered for some time. Now suddenly she trembled from head to foot, and with a shriek ran away; as she ran, it seemed that shortly she again shrieked tearfully.

Ah Q, kneeling to the blank wall, was also bewildered; and therefore, supporting himself on the empty board bench with both hands, he slowly stood up, realizing that something must have gone amiss. His heart, at the moment, indeed was palpitating after a fashion. Thoroughly frightened, he stuck his pipe into his belt and thought of returning to his rice pounding. There came a whirring sound; his head received a heavy blow; and when he turned about quickly, the Hsiu-ts’ai stood malignantly before him with a huge bamboo pole in his grasp.

“You scoundrel—you low—”

The stout bamboo was again directed down upon his head. Ah Q covered his head with botn hands and the blow landed on his finger joints, which smarted with exceeding great pain. As he dashed out of the kitchen door, it seemed that his back had also received a crack.

“Bad egg of a dark turtle!” cried the Hsiu-ts’ai in an oath, using Mandarin.

Ah Q retreated to the rice-pounding room and stood there alone. He still felt the pain in his fingers and still remembered the “bad egg of a dark turtle,” because the Weichuangites had never spoken these Mandarin words, which were used exclusively by the elite who were intimate with officials. Hence he was the more frightened, and the words were the more deeply imprinted upon his mind.

But by this time, his thought of “woman” had vanished, and after he had been beaten and reviled, it seemed as if the whole affair had ended once and for all. Accordingly, he experienced no anxiety and set his hands into motion to pound the rice. Having pounded for a while, he became warm, stopped, and took off his coat.

It was while he was taking off his coat that he heard a very loud clamor from without. It being Ah Q’s habit to take in exciting events, he accordingly ran out in the direction of the voices. Following their sound, he gradually made his way to the inner part of the Chao house. Although it was dusk, it was possible to distinguish many people; the whole Chao household, including the mistress, “who had not touched rice for two days,” was among them, as well as their neighbor, Tsou Ch’i-sao, and the real relatives, Chao Paiyen and Chao Szu-ch’en.

At this juncture, the young daughter-in-law of the house was dragging Amah Wu from one of the rooms in the servants’ quarters, saying all the while, “Come out—there is no need to conceal yourself in your room and brood.”

Tsou Ch’i-sao added from the side, “Who doesn’t know that you are a good woman—under no circumstance think of suicide!”

Amah Wu merely wept, letting out a few unintelligible words.

Ah Q thought to himself: “Eh, how interesting! I don’t know what mischievousness Amah Wu is up to now!”

He wished to inquire and moved over to Chao Szu-ch’en’s side. At that moment, he espied the eldest son of the Chao family, dashing toward him and holding in his hand the stout bamboo pole. On seeing this bamboo, he suddenly realized that he had been beaten by it and that this excitement appeared to have some connection with himself. He turned about and ran, hoping to escape to the rice-pounding room, but, contrary to his expectation, the bamboo closed his avenue of retreat; he therefore faced about and ran. Naturally and smoothly he ran out of the rear door and without much effort entered T’uku Temple.

After Ah Q had sat for a while, the skin about his capillary roots puffed up into little mounds; he felt cold. Although it was springtime, the weather was quite cool in the evenings and it was not yet the proper time for going bare to the waist. He then recalled that his coat had been left at the Chao household, but he greatly feared to go and get it, for he might encounter the Hsiu-ts’ai’s bamboo.

The ti-pao finally arrived, saying: “Ah Q, you bad fellow, you even make light of the servants of the Chao household and are, without the least particle of doubt, a gross violator of the law. You have made me lose a whole nigh’s sleep, you rascal!

In this fashion he reprimanded Ah Q, who naturally said nothing. Finally, because it was night, Ah Q felt that he ought to reward the ti-pao for his trouble by presenting him with a double amount, four hundred cash, for wine money; but having no money on hand at the moment, he gave his felt hat as security and furthermore agreed to the five articles, which follow:

1.  On the following day, a pair of candles, weighirig one catty each, and a bundle of incense sticks are to be delivered to the Chao household as an apology.

2.  Ah Q is to pay for the expenses, which the Chao household will incur by inviting a Taoist priest to exorcise the evil he has caused.

3.  Ah Q is never to set foot on the Chao threshold.

4.  If, in the future, anything extraordinary happens to Amah Wu, there is only Ah Q to answer for it.

5.  Ah Q will not be permitted to obtain his wages and clothes.

Ah Q naturally agreed to the demands, but it was regrettable that he had no money. Fortunately, in the spring weather he could do without his cotton quilt, which he pawned for two thousand cash, when he agreed to the foregoing stipulations. After he had kotowed and bent his naked body, there were still a few cash left in his possession. He did not redeem his felt hat, but drank down all his money in wine.

But the Chao family by no means burned the incense or lighted the candles, for the mistress of the house could use them when she worshiped Buddha, and so they were saved for that purpose. Most of the tattered coat was made into diapers for the daughter-in-law’s child, which was to be born on the eighth moon, and what little remained of the torn part was made into shoe soles for Amah Wu.