Summary

Frank Owen The Scarlet Hill — Part III: Lady T'ai Chên (1941)

Poor Lady T'ai Chên. Before such sweeping power, what could she do? She had practically no clothes to wear, and she was far too modest to go naked except in the privacy of her own apartment at the Palace, so she returned to the Emperor. Never had she looked so demure, so meek. On her face was such a penitent expression she might indeed have been envied by nuns. No woman in all history has been better versed in the supreme art of humility. She threw herself at Ming Huang's feet, wrapped her arms about his knees, wept softly and implored forgiveness.
Source: Wikisource

Frank Owen The Scarlet Hill — Part III: Lady T'ai Chên (1941)

Accompanying mounted troops bore banners upon which, boldly embroidered, was the figure of a dragon on a background of yellow. An elephant, sure of foot, carried the palanquin in which the lady languorously reclined. The air was pungent with sandalwood and musk, and the faint echo of mysterious intoxicating spices. At last in the eyes of the Emperor she was precious, like ivory, white jade or pearls. He hungered for her, and the hunger of a man for a beloved woman is a force strong enough to cause a throne to tremble.
Source: Wikisource

Frank Owen The Scarlet Hill — Part III: Lady T'ai Chên (1941)

Near by stood Chang Kui-ling, one of the Ministers of State, a poet of distinction, a man of lofty disposition, faithful but saddened by the decadence that was creeping into the Court. He was opposed to licentiousness and misrule. All his sensibilities were offended by the appointment of Kuo-chung. And so, as he gazed on the breath-taking loveliness of Yang Kuei-fei gazing into her mirror, he whispered, "By having ourselves reflected in a mirror, we see a face; by having ourselves reflected in mankind, we see the future."
Source: Wikisource

Get perspective with Kwize: daily news enlightened by great literature