Three Kingdoms Romance полностью

O friends you know the Lu Wang's tale:

The aged man constrained to leave

His cottage by the sea,

To follow in a prince's train

His counselor to be.

Eight hundred feudal chieftains met

Who came with one accord;

The happy omen, that white fish,

That leapt the boat aboard;

The gory field in distant wilds.

Whence flowed a crimson tide,

And him acknowledged chief in war

Whose virtues none denied;

That Zhang Liang, a Gaoyang rustic,

Fond of wine, who left, his native place

And went to serve so faithfully

The man of handsome face;

And one who spoke of ruling chiefs

In tones so bold and free,

But sitting at the festive board

Was full of courtesy;

And one, that was he who laid in dust

Walled cities near four score

But humans of doughty deeds like these

On earth are seen no more.

Now had these humans not found their lord

Would they be known to fame?

Yet having found, they served him well

And so achieved a name.

The song ended, the singer's companion tapping the table sang:

We had a famous founder,

Who drew his shining sword,

Cleansed all the land within the seas

And made himself its lord.

In time his son succeeded him,

And so from son to son

The lordship passed, held firm until

Four hundred years had run.

Then dawned a day of weaklier sons,

The fiery virtue failed,

Then ministers betrayed their trust,

Court intrigues vile prevailed.

The omens came; a serpent

Coiled on the dragon throne,

While in the hall of audience

Unholy haloes shone.

Now bandits swarm in all the land

And noble strives with chief,

The common people, sore perplexed,

Can nowhere find relief.

Let's drown our sorrows in the cup,

Be happy while we may,

Let those who wish run after fame

That is to last for aye.

The two men laughed loud and clapped their hands as the second singer ceased. Liu Bei thought full surely the longed for sage was there, so he dismounted and entered the inn. He saw the two merry-makers sitting opposite each other at a table. One was pale with a long beard; the other had a strikingly refined face.

Liu Bei saluted them and said, “Which of you is Master Sleeping-Dragon?” “Who are you, Sir?” asked the long-bearded one. “What business have you with Sleeping-Dragon?”

“I am Liu Bei. I want to inquire of him how to restore tranquillity to the world.”

“Well, neither of us is your man, but we are friends of his. My name is Shi Guangyuan and my friend here is Meng Gongwei.”

“I know you both by reputation,” said Liu Bei gladly. “I am indeed fortunate to meet you in this haphazard way. Will you not come to Sleeping-Dragon's retreat and talk for a time? I have horses here for you.”

“We idle folks of the wilds know nothing of tranquilizing states. Please do not trouble to ask. Pray mount again and continue searching Sleeping-Dragon.”

So he remounted and went his way. He reached the little cottage, dismounted, and tapped at the door. The same lad answered his knock, and he asked whether the Master had returned.

“He is in his room reading,” said the boy.

Joyful indeed was Liu Bei as he followed the lad in. In front of the middle door he saw written this pair of scrolls:

By purity inspire the inclination;

By repose affect the distant.

As Liu Bei was looking at this couplet, he heard some one singing in a subdued voice and stopped by the door to peep in. He saw a young man close to a charcoal brazier, hugging his knees while he sang:

“The phoenix dies high, O!