µ»³öScene 1
ÀÀúõ$ 
Master of ceremonies:
Wangziyu


ÀÀú÷¹þã¬
¼À ì¼û¤± ®
(Master of ceremonies:
witness to the proceedings
and official for the execution
of rites)

¹v­ úí 
What an antique I have
become!

·wm ú°ü½¬¹ü
For now, though made neither
of bronze nor of jade, I am as worn
as any of my curios.
¾z »&(
ö¾·¸ &Á½?
The sorrows and regrets that
afflict others have no effect
on someone like me; for as
long as there is drink and
song, I am happy anywhere.
ÀÀ
ø þ© ?»÷± 
I am the master of
ceremonies. When I was an
official in Nanjing, I
witnessed the great events
of that era.
+½0
¿´»±¾³ö´«
Yesterday, while I was
visiting the Taiping Gardens,
I happened to see a new
play about those times.

ûª¡¶ »¨ !·
¾ ÷³¯) þ©½ü 
It was called The Peach
Blossom Fan, and related
the end of the Ming Dynasty.

½Àú®
4 ö®¸
It used a romantic story of
parting and reunion to relate
the rise and fall of an empire.

µ µ  ¾>
The facts and personalities
were true to history. Nothing
was invented.

õ0³ ÿ»»&»»
m»»»»
Ah! How it made me weep,
laugh, rage, even curse!

úù±ö¿
õþµÀ÷² ÷®
And the audience must have
been surprised to see me take
the stage as well!
µÀ ´Áúkuó¡
Á»ô ô
But here I haven't even
finished talking, and the
scholars have arrived.
Kindly direct your attention
to them.

ºýa­©÷ 
Hou Fangyu: Shi Xiaming

ºýú
þ}®㬿~þ©
(Hou Fangyu, son of an
influential minister, currently
visiting Nanjing)


¡¾ÀÁ»­ü¡¿
go· ú½­
»¨À3ø/x
The recent warmth lays a
thin mist over the riverlands.
Among flowers, we sip from
jade goblets.

µ ù´µ¿3¦
The melancholy flute
troubles the heart.

*¹ý
ñü»­Áº
No need to wander where
the old families once resided,
for their houses have passed
to others.

! úzû·½
±³¯
My name is Hou Fangyu,
and I am a scholar as well.

¼ûá³­ Á÷¿Á¬°9qø
½¥±¾©¦ -
I saw a dispatch yesterday:
the rebels are routing the
army and threaten the capital.
No force protects the nation.

´ r»¿ 
¿´´º¹
What can be said about the
disordered affairs of state?
We ought instead to enjoy the
glory of spring.

¡¾¹¡¿
íü ²»°z ¥±
We beauties paint our
eyebrows, keeping the gates
to the pleasure quarters open.
³¤°w´¹ø
ÿÿã 
Over the bridgehead, the thin
and weeping willows lure the
visitors on horseback with
their silken catkins.

½«½õ ° 
The strings of our zithers are
tightly stretched, the pipes
prepared for playing.

õ¡­¡­ö 
Yang Wencong:Zhou xin

À Àö¡­¡­õÀö 
Li Zhenli: Wang Yueli

õ£º°y>ã¬
À Àö¾ :
(Yang Wencong, relieved
from an official post and
living a life of leisure. Has a
long- standing liaison with
Li Zhenli.)

À Àö£ºÀþý®¡°8¡±,
¶þ®¶þ 쥥÷
(Li Zhenli, Li Xiangjun's
mother by adoption. Twenty-
two years old, she is the
proprietress of the
courtesan's quarters.)


ý}¾°k¹©|»­
Áù´ú·Á÷ · 
Nanjing's scenery makes for
glorious painting, its history for
exquisite tales.

Àè i²
´º;´Á½°¶±
Pear blossoms like
snowflakes, the faint and
sprouting grass like mist.
Spring has conquered
both banks of the river.

¹õ ±Áú
°Á°°>
My humble name is Yang
Wencong. Once a county
official, I was relieved of my
post, and pursue leisure
instead.

ª À ± Àö
ý¶þ®6þ
My name is Li Zhenli. I am
twenty-two years of age.

;¨¿ ·û°
ð³µ>z
Ah, Li Zhenli! Most splendid
among the courtesans,
famed for her elegance. Our
liaison Is of long standing.

À¯

-Won't you step in, Mr. Yang?
-Don¡¯t mind if I do?

Á±Áý¼ »¨ð»¤
If you look through the
curtain, a free bird might
seem caged. Flowering trees
shield the fish captive in the
bowl.

 Á.ñ¥
ýùÀ%Á
These are your foster
daughter's chambers. But
where is the girl herself?

º¢¶ù³öÀ´ À¯´
Come out, my child. Yang
Wencong has honoured us
with a visit.

Àþý¡­¡­µ¥ö© 
Li Xiangjun£ºShan Wen

Àþý£º
¥À Àö¡°n¡±£¬
®Áù
(Li Xiangjun: courtesan
and adoptive daughter
of Li Zhenli. Sixteen
years old.)

¡¾¹¡¿
» ²º '±»
I awoke from sweet dreams,
and slipped out of my
downy blankets.

54´½ ¬
´´8öü÷
Then I powdered my cheeks
and painted my lips, and
hurriedly coiled my hair.

:³õ 
´ ¼
But what can disperse this
vernal sorrow? My maidenly
passions find expression
only in song.

¸´º²¨ ±  >´°
Spring washes over the city,
emerald mist tinting the light
as it shines through the
window.

 º ÿúý
Apricot trees spread their
branches over walls, as if
they too wished to admire
the season's loveliness.

õ ÷ ¾ ÷
As you see, I am in the play,
just as I announced.

ÀÀp5µ} úµ
À¥ ú
I, the master of ceremonies,
appear in the guise of Su
Kunsheng, the flute player.

À¯ À¥À
-Greetings, Yang Wencong.
-Greetings, Su Kunsheng.

º¢¶ù ½«gÁðóö
¡¶5µ¤d¡·³ª »ú
Child, you've been learning
music from The Peony
Pavilion. Do sing something
for us.
?´
» g¸õµ
With a guest in attendance,
I dare not embarrass myself
with a poor rendition.

À¯²» 
¿?êÀ´
Child, Mr. Yang is no
stranger. Begin your song
at once.

³À¯ù
º¸¾
You should take advantage
of the presence of such a
connoisseur to improve
your singing.
³ªÀ´

-Start at once.
-Yes, mother.


¡¾á¿
-À´±:ê±
¡°Carmine and violet burst
into opulent blooms,
°¼¸¶öþ®+
Á¼³½À¾°º
though only dry wells and
crumbling walls bear
witness. The day is fine and
the scenery splendid.¡±
¹º
Well met, Fangyu.


 úþ}µ9«
ºï
That young man is the son
of Minister Hou. His name
is Fangyu.

¿8» 2û
ýÀkû­
Besides his considerable
affluence, he is thought to
be very talented. He has
travelled here to admire the
famous beauties.

¹û;ò
He certainly is striking.
þýý®Áù
ýº £
Now that she is sixteen
years old, the favours of
your foster- daughter
Xiangjun should be granted
to one patron alone.
k¼µ±´ ±
²»¹´ø £
To think that when I was that
age, no one asked me to
forego all other patrons.
¹´µ½
8ö¸À´ £ 
À¯ ª´µ
That was before my time.
Who would have dared claim
you for himself? Why, I'd
have given him such a...
ý ½ª%
± üºû
What nonsense! As it
happens, we are expected
for a courtesans' gathering
at Aunt Bian's today.

À¯
»l¸°»%°
Won't you come with us,
Mr. Yang?

ºû ýþû
À¯ú%µ
þý!& 
This kind of gathering is
only for courtesans. How
could I accompany you?
Xiangjun, you mock me!

²»ªÁ À¯
That's enough silly talk.
Thank you for your visit.

¶ö5²»¿t¹ý
ºõ=Á
-But we mustn't miss this
opportunity to arrange a
match!
-Marvellous!

¡¾i ÷¡¿
úÀ´·÷ § ø z»¨¶
We girls were born to the
courtesan's charms,

»´®¸: ð³½îµ
relying for our livelihood on
the sweetness of our voices.

*½«º¹ú
g¾þ·òù
We cannot abandon ourselves to a suitor;
I nstead we are consecrated to our arts.
»º: À ¶Á ôº´
ðõáõ 
Sound the clappers slowly as
we dance; no palace beauties
can compete with our charms.
Young noblemen hang their
bridles at our door.

¡¾}¡¿
½7´ûö uÁù³¯
As long as you are here,
grandeur still lives! How it
reminds me of bygone glory!
ú 2vó¦
And yet as far as the eye
can see, this city, once so
flourishing, has grown
barren.
´û¨} ·÷ 
Áôº¹
Oh, how I fear the winds and
rains will bring the flowers to
fall too early, and diminish
the radiance of spring.

! úºý
c®Áù|
I am a wanderer who knows
not when he will return home.
 ÿö²»¿°
4²´º p´
As an outsider, I am in a poor
position to speak of
courtship, but it is difficult to
escape spring passions.
! ú  »±ú
ù þý ª¶© ®
Today, I have brought a fan
with me as a gift. It shall
remain an eternal emblem of
our betrothal.

¡¾! º
´´ü4 #ù
I can scarcely tear my eyes
from your fairy-like beauty.

´ºü»¨s{
On a spring evening when
the moon is bright, one
mustn't make false vows.

Á¼5µ½ 
ü±¸ ¸°¸ 
Benevolent fate has led us
together, and will not lightly
let us go. Prepare yourself
for the bridal chambers.

o´¥ð·÷ 
Áù³¯·õ½¿µ
-A feminine fragrance
streams from the courtesan's
quarters.
-They have lost none of the
lustre of glorious old.

$9 %´º ó
÷À´»¨ú´²
-We part in this vision of
early spring, just as our
love is budding.
-efore long, flowers will
cover your nuptial bed.
2026Äê6ÔÂ
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