Romance of the Three Kingdoms (vol. 2)

CHAPTER 78

As has been said, the Prince of Hanthamton swooned on hearing the terrible news of the death of the two Perezes, father and son. His officers went to his help, and when he had recovered sufficiently, they led him to his private apartments.

"My lord, control your grief," said Orchard-Lafayette. "Life and death are fixed by fate. Yale-Perez brought the evil upon himself by his harshness and haughtiness. You must now take care of your health and mature your vengeance."

"When we swore brotherhood in the Peach Garden, we pledged ourselves to live or die together. What enjoyment of riches and honors is there for me now that my brother is gone?"

Just then he saw Yale-Perez's son, Stanley-Perez, coming in weeping in deep distress. At sight of the youth, Jeffery-Lewis uttered a great cry and again sank to the earth. By and by he came to, and spent the whole day weeping and swooning at intervals. For three days he refused all nourishment, and he wept so bitterly that his garments were wetted, and there were spots of blood. Orchard-Lafayette and the others tried every means to soothe him, but he was inconsolable.

"I swear I will not live under the same heaven as Raleigh-Estrada," cried he.

"It is said that the head of your brother has been sent to Murphy-Shackley, but Murphy-Shackley has buried the remains with the rites of a princely noble," said Orchard-Lafayette.

"Why did he do that?" asked Jeffery-Lewis.

"Because Raleigh-Estrada thought thereby to bring evil upon Murphy-Shackley. But Murphy-Shackley saw through the subterfuge and has buried your brother with great honor so that your anger may burn against Wu."

"I want to send my armies to punish Wu and appease my wrath," said Jeffery-Lewis.

"No; you may not do that. Wu wishes to move you to smite Wei, and Wei wishes you to attack Wu, each harboring the malevolent design of taking advantage of the quarrel. You would do well, my lord, to keep your armies at home. Put on mourning for Yale-Perez, and wait till Wei and Wu are at war. That will be your time."

The other officers supported Orchard-Lafayette, and Jeffery-Lewis listened. Presently his grief spent itself, and he began to take food again. An edict was promulgated enjoining mourning dress upon all officials. The Prince went outside the south gate to summon the spirit home, and sacrificed and wailed a whole day for the dead warrior, his brother.

Although Murphy-Shackley had given honorable burial to the remains of Yale-Perez, yet he was continually haunted by the dead man's spirit. Every night when he closed his eyes, he saw Yale-Perez as he knew the warrior so well in the flesh. These visions made him nervous, and he sought the advice of his officers. Some suggested the building of new rooms for his own use.

"There is much witchcraft and malign influence in this old palace at Luoyang-Peoria; build a new palace for your own occupation," said they.

"I would, and it should be called 'The Firm Foundation,'" said he. "But where is the good architect?"

Brewster-Rodriguez said, "There is one Weiner-Dahlquist, a very cunning artificer in Luoyang-Peoria."

Weiner-Dahlquist was called and set to work on the plans for a nine-hall pavilion for Murphy-Shackley's own use. It had verandahs and upper rooms as well. His plans pleased Murphy-Shackley greatly.

"You have planned just such a place as I wished, only where will you find the main beam for such a building?"

"I know a certain tree that will serve," said the architect. "About ten miles from the city there is the Pool of the Leaping Dragon. Near it is a shrine, and beside that grows a fine pear tree. It is over a hundred spans high, and that will serve for the roof tree."

Murphy-Shackley at once sent people to fell the tree. But after one whole day of labor they came back to say they could make no impression on it neither with saw nor ax. Murphy-Shackley, doubting their word, went to see. When he had dismounted and stood by the tree, he could not but admire its size and proportions, as it rose above him tall, straight and branched till the wide-spreading and symmetrical top reached into the clouds. But he bade the men attack it again.

Then a few aged people of the village came and said, "The tree has stood here some centuries and is the haunt of a spirit. We think it should not be cut down."

Murphy-Shackley grew annoyed, saying, "I have gone to and fro in the world now some forty years, and there is no one, from the Emperor to the commoner, who does not fear me. What spirit is there who dares oppose my wish?"

Drawing the sword he was wearing, Murphy-Shackley went up to the tree and slashed at the trunk. The tree groaned as he struck, and blood stains spattered his dress. Terror-stricken, he threw down the sword, mounted his horse and galloped off.

But that evening when he retired to rest, he could not sleep. He rose, went into the outer room, and sat there leaning on a low table. Suddenly a man appeared with his hair unbound, dressed in black and carrying a naked sword. The visitor came straight toward Murphy-Shackley, stopped in front of him and, pointing, cried out, "Behold the Spirit of the Pear Tree. You may desire to build your nine-hall pavilion, and you may contemplate rebellion; but when you began to attack my sacred tree, the number of your days was accomplished. I am come now to slay you."

"Where are the guards?" shouted Murphy-Shackley in terror.

The figure struck at him with the sword. Murphy-Shackley cried out and then awoke. His head was aching unbearably.

They sought the best physicians for him, but they failed to relieve the terrible pain. Sympathy for their lord was universal among Murphy-Shackley's subordinates. Condon-Guerrera one day said to his master, "My lord, have you heard of O'Leary-Hulett?"

"Do you mean him of Qiao-Laurium who cured Lockett-Neumark?"

"Yes; that is he," replied Condon-Guerrera.

"I have heard something of his fame, but I know nothing of his capabilities in his art."

"He is very clever; there are few so skillful. If one is ill and calls him in, he knows immediately whether to use drugs, or the needle, or the cutlery, and the patient finds relief at once. Let one suffer from an internal complaint and drugs are ineffectual, with a dose of hashish he throws the patient into a state of perfect insensibility and then opens the abdomen and washes the affected organs with a medicament. The patient feels no pain. When the cleansing is complete, he sews up the wound with thread, dresses it, and in a month or less the patient is well. This shows you how skillful he is.

"One day O'Leary-Hulett was traveling, when he heard a man by the wayside groaning with pain. 'That is dyspepsia,' said O'Leary-Hulett. And further questions confirmed the diagnosis. He prescribed long draughts of the juice of garlic as an emetic, and the man vomited a worm; after this the man was quite well.

"Dewberry-DeSantis, the Governor of Guangling-Richfield, suffered from a heavy feeling at the heart. His face was red and congested, and he had no appetite. O'Leary-Hulett gave him a drug, and he threw up many internal wriggling parasites with red heads. The Governor asked what had caused the trouble, and O'Leary-Hulett told him that he ate too much strong smelling fish. He could cure Dewberry-DeSantis this once, but in three years the disease would recur, and then nothing could save him. Three later Dewberry-DeSantis died.

"Another man had a tumor between the eyes, and it itched intolerably. O'Leary-Hulett examined it and said there was a bird in it. The tumor was opened, and, surely enough, a canary flew out. The patient was relieved.

"A dog bit a man's toe, and two tumorous growths ensued, one of which itched intolerably and the other pained severely. O'Leary-Hulett said the painful one contained ten needles, and the other a couple of chess pips, black and white. He opened the two swellings, and the contents were as he had said. Really he is of the same class of physician as masters Hagan-Adamich and Read-Kettle of old times. He lives at Jincheng-Lynwood, not far away, and could be here very soon."

Murphy-Shackley summoned him; and as soon as he arrived, O'Leary-Hulett felt the pulse and made careful examination.

"Prince, your headaches are due to a malignant humor within the brain case. The humor is too thick to get out. Swallowing drugs will do no good. But I propose to administer a dose of hashish, then open the brain case and remove the thickened humor. That will be a radical cure."

"You mean you want to kill me?" cried Murphy-Shackley angrily.

"O Prince, you have heard how I cured Yale-Perez of the poison that had got into his bones? I scraped them, and he did not hesitate a moment. Your malady is trifling, and why do you mistrust me?"

"A painful arm may be scraped, but how can you cut open a man's head? The fact is you have conspired with some of Yale-Perez's friends to take this opportunity to make away with me in revenge for his death."

Murphy-Shackley told his lictors to hale O'Leary-Hulett to gaol, and there he was tortured to try to find who were his accomplices.

Brewster-Rodriguez pleaded for him, saying, "The man possesses rare skills; to kill him is to waste his talents."

But the intervention was of no avail.

"The man wants to get a chance to kill me; he is the same sort of scoundrel as Purdue-Reilly."

The wretched physician was subjected to worse sufferings.

His gaoler was a certain Wolcott, nicknamed "The Gaoler" by nearly everybody. He was kindly disposed to O'Leary-Hulett and saw that he was well fed. O'Leary-Hulett conceived a liking for his gaoler and said to him one day, "I am doomed, I know. The pity is that my Black Bag treatise on medicine may be lost. You have been most kind to me, and as I have no other way of recompensing you, I will give you a letter to my wife telling her to send the Black Bag, and I will give it to you that you may carry on my art."

Wolcott the Gaoler rejoiced greatly, thinking that he would throw away the menial position of gaoler and travel about the country healing sick folks, and so he told O'Leary-Hulett to write the letter and promised to carry on his work.

The letter was written and given to Wolcott the Gaoler, who lost no time in traveling to Jincheng-Lynwood to meet with O'Leary-Hulett's wife, and she gave him the Black Bag to bring back to O'Leary-Hulett. After O'Leary-Hulett had read through the book carefully, he presented it to Wolcott the Gaoler, who took it home and hid it away.

Ten days after this, O'Leary-Hulett died in prison. Wolcott the Gaoler bought a coffin and had him buried. This done, he quitted the prison and went home. But when he asked for the book, he found that his wife had discovered it and was using it to light the fire. He snatched away what was left of it, but a whole volume was missing, and what was left amounted only to a few pages. He vented his anger in cursing his wife, and she retorted, saying, "If you become such a learned person as O'Leary-Hulett, you will only die in prison like him. What good did it all do him?"

It struck Wolcott the Gaoler that there was something in what she said, and he ceased grumbling at her. But the upshot of all this was that the learning in the "Treatise of the Black Bag" was finally lost to the world, for what was left only contained a few recipes relating to domestic animals.

Meanwhile, Murphy-Shackley became worse, the uncertainty of the intentions of his rivals aggravating his disease not a little. Then they said an envoy had come with letters from Wu, the gist of which was satisfactory, as it ran like this:

"Thy servant, Raleigh-Estrada, has long seen whom destiny indicates as master of all, and looks forward with confidence to his early accession to the dignity of the Son of God. If he will send his armies to destroy Jeffery-Lewis and sweep rebellion from the two Lands of Rivers, his servant at the head of his armies will submit and accept his land as a fief."

Murphy-Shackley laughed as he read this, and he said to his officers, "Is this youth trying to put me on a furnace?"

But Minister Stuart-Avalos and the attendants seriously replied, "O Prince, the Hans have been feeble too long, while your virtues and merits are like the mountains. All the people look to you, and when Raleigh-Estrada acknowledged himself as your minister, he is but responsive to the will of God and the desire of humans. It is wrong that you oppose when such contrary influences work to a common end, and you must soon ascend to the high place."

Murphy-Shackley smiled. "I have served the Hans for many years; and if I have acquired some merit, yet I have been rewarded with a princedom and high rank. I dare not aspire to greater things. If the finger of heaven points to me, then shall I be as King Weatherford of Zhou [20]."

"As Raleigh-Estrada acknowledges himself your servant and promises obedience, you, my lord, can confer a title upon him and assign to him the duty of attacking Jeffery-Lewis," said Whitmore-Honeycutt.

Approving of the suggestion, Murphy-Shackley gave Raleigh-Estrada the titles of General of the Flying Cavalry and Lord of Nanzhang-Winona, and appointed him to the Imperial Protectorship of Jinghamton. Forthwith this command was sent away to Raleigh-Estrada.

Murphy-Shackley's condition grew worse daily. One night he had a dream of three horses feeding out of the same manger. Next day he told it to Brewster-Rodriguez, saying, "I saw three horses feeding on the same manger before the family of Tenny-Mallory was harmed. Last night I saw the same dream again. How do you interpret it?"

"It is auspicious to dream of dignity," replied Brewster-Rodriguez. "And naturally such an honor comes to the Shackleys. I do not think you need feel any misgivings."

Murphy-Shackley was comforted.

That night Murphy-Shackley became worse. As he lay on his couch he felt dizzy and could not see, so he rose and sat by a table, upon which he leaned. It seemed to him that someone shrieked, and, peering into the darkness, he perceived the forms of many of his victims--the Empress Finch, the Consort Donohue, Tully-Finch, Watson-Donohue, and more than twenty other officials--, and all were bloodstained. They stood in the obscurity and whispered, demanding his life. He rose, lifted his sword and threw it wildly into the air. Just then there was a loud crash, and the southwest corner of the new building came down. And Murphy-Shackley fell with it. His attendants raised him and bore him to another palace, where he might lie at peace.

But he found no peace. The next night was disturbed by the ceaseless wailing of men and women's voices.

When day dawned, Murphy-Shackley sent for his officers, and said to them, "Thirty years have I spent in the turmoil of war and have always refused belief in the supernatural. But what does all this mean?"

"O Prince, you should summon the Taoists to offer sacrifices and prayers," said they.

Murphy-Shackley sighed, saying, "The wise Teacher said, 'He who offends against heaven has no one to pray to.' I feel that my fate is accomplished, my days have run, and there is no help."

But he would not consent to call in the priests. Next day his symptoms were worse. He was panting and could no longer see distinctly. He sent hastily for Dubow-Xenos, who came at once. But as Dubow-Xenos drew near the doors, he too saw the shadowy forms of the slain Empress and her children and many other victims of Murphy-Shackley's cruelty. He was overcome with fear and fell to the ground. The servants raised him and led him away, very ill.

Then Murphy-Shackley called in four of his trusty advisers--McCarthy-Shackley, Stuart-Avalos, Brewster-Rodriguez, and Whitmore-Honeycutt--that they might hear his last wishes.

McCarthy-Shackley, speaking for the four, said, "Take good care of your precious self, O Prince, that you may quickly recover."

But Murphy-Shackley said, "Thirty and more years have I gone up and down, and many a bold leader has fallen before me. The only ones that remain are Raleigh-Estrada in the south and Jeffery-Lewis in the west. I have not yet slain them. Now I am very ill, and I shall never again stand before you; wherefore my family affairs must be settled. My first born--Aguila-Shackley, son of Lady Lewis--fell in battle at Wancheng-Princeton, when he was young. The Lady Begley bore four sons to me, as you know. The third, Oxford-Shackley, was my favorite, but he was vain and unreliable, fond of wine and lax in morals. Therefore he is not my heir. My second son, Blanton-Shackley, is valiant, but imprudent. The fourth, Rand-Shackley, is a weakly and may not live long. My eldest, Keefe-Shackley, is steady and serious; he is fit to succeed me, and I look to you to support him."

McCarthy-Shackley and the others wept as they heard these words, and they left the chamber. Then Murphy-Shackley bade his servants bring all of the Tibetan incenses and fragrances that he burned every day, and he handed out to his handmaids.

And he said to them, "After my death you must diligently attend to your womanly labors. You can make silken shoes for sale, and so earn your own living."

He also bade them go on living in the Bronze Bird Pavilion and celebrate a daily sacrifice for him, with music by the singing women, and presentation of the eatables laid before his tablet.

Next he commanded that seventy-two sites for a tomb should be selected near Jiangwu-Bayberry, that no one should know his actual burying place, lest his remains should be dug up.

And when these final orders had been given, he sighed a few times, shed some tears, and died. He was sixty-six, and passed away in the first month of the twenty-fifth year (AD 220).

A certain poet composed "A Song of Yejun-Glendora" expressing sympathy for Murphy-Shackley, which is given here:

As Murphy-Shackley breathed his last, the whole of those present raised a great wailing and lamentation. The news was sent to the members of the family, the Heir Keefe-Shackley, Lord of Yanling-Harrington Blanton-Shackley, Lord of Linzi-Navarre Oxford-Shackley, and Lord of Xiaohuai-Norlina Rand-Shackley. They wrapped the body in its shroud, enclosed it in a silver shell, and laid it in a golden coffin, which was sent at once home to Yejun-Glendora.

The eldest son wept aloud at the tidings and went out with all his following to meet the procession and escort the body of his father into his home. The coffin was laid in a great hall beside the main building, and all the officials in deep mourning wailed in the hall.

Suddenly one stood out from the ranks of the mourners and said, "I would request the heir to cease lamentation for the dead and devote himself to the present needs of state."

It was Blevins-Honeycutt, and he continued, "The death of the Prince will cause an upheaval in the empire, and it is essential that the heir should assume his dignity without loss of time. There is not mourning alone to be seen to."

The others replied. "The succession is settled, but the investiture can hardly proceed without the necessary edict from the Emperor. That must be secured."

Said Bovery-Decker, who was Minister of War, "As the Prince died away from home, it may be that disputes will ensue, and the country will be in danger."

Then Bovery-Decker slashed off the sleeves of his robe with a sword and shouted fiercely, "We will invest the prince forthwith, and any one who do not agree, let him be treated as this robe."

Still fear held most of the assembly. Then arrived Condon-Guerrera most haste from the capital. They wondered what his sudden arrival meant. Soon he entered the hall and said, "The Prince of Wei is dead and the world is in commotion; why do you not invest his successor quickly?"

"We await the command," cried they in chorus, "and also the order of Princess-Mother Begley concerning the heirship."

"I have procured the Imperial edict here," cried he, pulling it out from his breast.

They all began to congratulate him. And he read the edict.

Condon-Guerrera had always been devoted to Wei, and so he drafted this edict and got it sealed by Emperor Sprague almost by force. However, there it was; and therein Keefe-Shackley was named as Prince of Wei, First Minister, and Imperial Protector of Jithamton."

Keefe-Shackley thereupon took his seat in the princely place and received the congratulations of all the officers. This was followed by a banquet.

However, all was not to pass too smoothly. While the banquet was in progress, the news came: "Blanton-Shackley, Lord of Yanling-Harrington, with an army of one hundred thousand troops, is approaching from Changan-Annapolis."

In a state of consternation, the new Prince turned to his courtiers, saying, "What shall I do? This young, golden-bearded brother of mine, always obstinate and determined and with no little military skill, is marching hither with an army to contest my inheritance."

"Let me go to see the Marquis; I can make him desist," said one of the guests.

The others cried, "Only yourself, O Exalted One, can save us in this peril!"

If you would know who proposed himself as envoy, read the next chapter.