Three Kingdoms Romance полностью

“It was made by Master Sleeping-Dragon,” said the laborer.

“Then he lives hereabout. Where?”

“South of this hill there is a ridge called the Sleeping Dragon, and close by is a sparse wood. In it stands a modest cottage. That is where Master Zhuge Liang takes his repose.”

Liu Bei thanked him and the party rode on. Soon they came to the ridge, most aptly named, for indeed it lay wrapped in an atmosphere of calm beauty.

A poet wrote of it thus:

Not far from Xiangyang

There stands, clear cut against the sky,

A lofty ridge, and at its foot

A gentle stream goes gliding by.

The contour, curving up and down,

Although by resting cloud it's marred,

Arrests the eye; and here and there

The flank by waterfalls is scarred.

There, like a sleeping dragon coiled,

Or phoenix hid among thick pines,

You see, secure from prying eyes,

A cot, reed-built on rustic lines.

The rough-joined doors, pushed by the wind,

Swing idly open and disclose

The greatest genius of the world

Enjoying still his calm repose.

The air is full of woodland scents,

Around are hedgerows trim and green,

Close-growing intercrossed bamboos

Replace the painted doorway screen.

But look within and books you see

By every couch, near every chair;

And you may guess that common humans

Are very seldom welcomed there.

The hut seems far from human ken,

So far one might expect to find

Wild forest denizens there, trained

To serve in place of humankind.

Without a hoary crane might stand

As warden of the outer gate;

Within a long-armed gibbon come

To offer fruit upon a plate.

But enter; there refinement reigns;

Brocaded silk the lutes protect,

And burnished weapons on the walls

The green of pines outside reflect.

For he who dwells within that hut

Is talented beyond compare,

Although he lives the simple life

And harvest seems his only care.

He waits until the thunderous call

Shall bid him wake, nor sleep again;

Then will he forth and at his word

Peace over all the land shall reign.

Liu Bei soon arrived at the door of the retreat, dismounted, and knocked at the rough door of the cottage. A youth appeared and asked what he wanted.

Liu Bei replied, “I am Liu Bei, General of the Han Dynasty, Lord of Yicheng, Imperial Protector of Yuzhou, and Uncle of the Emperor. I am come to salute the Master.”

“I cannot remember so many titles,” said the lad.

“Then simply say that Liu Bei has come to inquire after him.”

“The Master left this morning early.”

“Whither has he gone?”

“His movements are very uncertain. I do not know whither he has gone.”

“When will he return?”

“That also is uncertain. Perhaps in three days, perhaps in ten.”

The disappointment was keen.

“Let us go back since we cannot see him,” said Zhang Fei.

“Wait a little time,” said Liu Bei.

“It would be better to return,” said Guan Yu, “then we might send to find out when this man had come back.”

So Liu Bei agreed, first saying to the boy, “When the Master returns, tell him that Liu Bei has been here.” They rode away for some miles. Presently Liu Bei stopped and looked back at the surroundings of the little cottage in the wood.

The mountains were picturesque rather than grand, the water clear rather than profound, the plain was level rather than extensive, the woods luxuriant rather than thick. Gibbons ranged through the trees, and cranes waded in the shallow water. The pines and the bamboos vied with each other in verdure. It was a scene to linger upon.