The Song Book of Quong Lee of Limehouse.docx
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The Song Book of Quong Lee of Limehouse.docx
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TheSongBookofQuongLeeofLimehouseTheSongBookofQuongLeeofLimehousebyThomasBurkeBuyingandSellingThroughoutthedayIsitbehindthecounterofmyshopAndtheodoursofmycountryareallaboutme-Arecanut,andbetelleaf,andmanioc,Lycheeandsueysen,Li-unanddriedseaweed,Tchahandsam-shu;Andthesecarrymymindtohalf-forgottendaysWhentaleswereplentifulandcarewashardtohold.AlldayIsellfortriflingsumsthewaresofmyownland,Andbuyformanycashsuchthingsaspeoplewishtosell,ThatImaysellthemagaintoothers,Withsomeprofittomyself.Onenightawhite-skinneddamselcametomeAndoffered,withfairwords,somethingshewishedtosell.NowifIdesireajacketIcanbuyitwithcoin,Orbarterforitsomethingofmystock.IfIdesirerice-spirit,that,too,Icanbuy;Andelegantentertainmentsanddelightsarealltobehadforcash.Butthereisonegoodthingaboveallprecious,Thatnomanmaybuy.AndthoughIbuyreadilymostthingsthatIdesire,ThisthingthatthewhitemaidofferedatmyownpriceIwouldnotbuy.ThePowerofMusicInthelittleroombehindmyshopIrefreshmyselfofaneveningwithmymachine-that-sings.Twosongshasmymachine-that-sings:
AndtheseareHitchyKooandWedontwanttoloseyou.When,intheevening,afriendhonoursmewithavisit,IengagehisearswiththeairofHitchyKoo;ButwhenIamafflictedwithavisitFromthosewhofillmewithaspiritofno-satisfaction,Icommandmymachine-that-singsTorenderthemusicofWedontwanttoloseyou.ThenoisethatatthismomentgreetstheearOftheelegantvisitortothisdespicablehovelIstheincomparablemusicofHitchyKoo;Andthepriceofthispersonstea,mister,Isbutapaltrysixshillingsthepound.TheLamplighterThedarkdaysnowbegin,wheninafternoonTheGreatNightLanternmakesarazor-edgeOfblackandwhiteinthestreets.Andonecomes,calledtheLamplighter,AndthestraightstifflampsofthesestiffLondonstreets,Athisquicktouchburstintolight.AtthisshyhourIseefrommyunshadedwindowBrightgirls,hairflowing,gobywithshutteredfaces,Holdingclosecaptivetheirwarminsurgentbosoms.Andthen,atthecorner,SomeslenderladofboldanduprightcarriageGreetsthem,andtheshutteredlanternsoftheirfacesBurstwithlightatthetouchofthelamplighter.Oh,kindingeniouslamplighter,Willyoupleasestepthisway?
InReplytoanInvitationDontthinkofmeasoneofnocourtesyOelegantandrefinedforeignone,IfIdonotacceptyourhigh-mindedinvitationTodrinkrice-spiritwithyouAtthelittleplacecalledTheBlueLantern,nearPennyfields.Pleasedontregardmeaslackingingraciousbehaviour,OrasinsufferablyignorantoftheteachingsoftheBookofRitesButIamsojourninghereinastrnageland,Andamnotfullyinformedoftheusagesofyourdignifiedpeople.AsthewiseMenciusobservedinoneofhisinspiredhours,Doubtlessthinkingforwardtosituationofthisperson:
Childwhohasoncesufferedunpleasantsensationofburning,Everafterwardreluctanttoapproachstove.Wherefore,asthispersononceacceptedaninvitation,Inwordsasaffableandpolishedasyours,Mister,Todrinkrice-spiritatTheBlueLantern,AndwastheresubjectedtoacustomofthiscountryOfanentirelydisturbingandunpleasingnature,KnownasCeremonyofConfidence,Hehas,sincethatday,viewedTheBlueLanternWithafeelingofmostdecidedrepugnance.ANight-PieceIclimbedtheotherdayuptotheroofOfthecommandingandpalatialHomeforAsiaticsAndlookedacrossthecityatthehourofno-light.AcrossgreatspaceofdarkIlooked,Buttheskirtofdarknesshadahundredrents,Madebythelightsofmanypeopleshomes.Mylifeisagreatskirtofdarkness,Buthumankindlinesshastornitthrough,SothatitshowstenthousandgapingrentsWherethelightcomesin.ASmileGivenInPassingAsIwalkedthestreetinthepurringeveningAlittlemaidwithyellowcurlsTossedmeasmile;andsuddenlyPennyfieldsGrewfromdarknesstolight,andthelightofthestarsGrewpale.Imaynotseeheragain,butIholdhersmileinmyheart,Andsheiswithmeinmyshopandaboutthestreets.Myshopmaytumbledown;WestIndiaDockmaysometimesufferadrought;GriefandJoycomeforaday;AndHopeandFear,andDesireandDeedAriseandpass,andarenomore;ButthebeautybornofherquickenedsmileCanneverdie.OfaNationalCashRegisterLastweekthisperson,desiringtomakeitknownThathewasinallwaysmovinguptothedate,IntroducedintohisinsignificantshopAmachine-that-counts,CalledaNationalCashRegister,WhichannouncestorefinedandintelligentcustomersTheamountsoftheirpurchases.Thisweekthispersonpurchasedawholedaysamusement;Andtheamounthepaidforthiswasanothersdiscomfitureandpain.And,afteranightofcogitation,Heismovedtoreflectonthefar-reachingandwholesomevalueOfaNationalRegisterwhichwouldannouncetothefaceThecostofsuchpleasuresasthis.UnderaShiningWindowAlamplitwindow,AtthetopofatenementhousenearPoplarHighStreet,Shinesfluentlyoutofthenight;AndlookingupwardIseeThatthebricksofthehousesarebrightandfairtotheeye.TherearenoflowersinWestIndiaDockRoad;Nothingbutbrickandstone,andironandspentair.Butwhenroughbrickandstoneareashrineforbeauty,Theybecomethemselvesbeautiful.PerhapsifthispersonencloseswithinhimselfBeautifulthoughtsandamiableintentions,HisinsignificantframemayacquireThenobleoutlinesofthattenementhouse.ExchangeofComplimentsAttenoclocklastnightanuglyfellow,Ofskinnyexteriorandmostungraciousmanner,WasthrownwithatotallossofgravityFromtheflappingdoorsoftheBlueLantern.Helurchedinmostungainlyfashionpastthispersonsshop-Thispersonstandingathisdoor-Andusedbaselanguageofanunpolishednature,CallinghimUglyYellowBastard,HopFiendandDirtyDoper,EaterofDogsandCheateratPuckapoo,Son-of-a-Bitchanddevoteeofvice.Thispersondidnotrespondinlikemanner,Knowingthatheisnothimselfall-perfect,NorevenineveryhourAdevoutfolloweroftheteachingsoftheFourBooks.Hecontentedhimselfwithrepeatinginafar-reachingtone,ThewordsoftheloftyLaoTzu:
Whenpotuponstovereprovethkettleforblackness,Potspeakingoutofturn.ASongofLittleGirlsIwanttomakeasongofthelittlegirlsThatliveaboutthisquarter.Icouldmakeasongofboysquiteeasilywithwords,Butwordsaretoobluntforsuchdelicatethingsasgirls.Iwouldliketomakemysongofthemwithbeesandbutterflies.Onelooksattheboy,andsaysBoy;Andlo,onehasdescribedhim.Butlittlegirlsaremorninglightandmelody;Theirhappyhairfluttersandflies,orcurtainstheirlaughingfaces-Facesgladasthesunatdawn.Theirclear,coolskinislikewinetotheeyes,Thelinesoftheirfluentlimbsrunlikeasong,Andeverystepisanoteofgracewhichthefrockrepeats.Dontyouthinkitapity,andgreatlytobedeploredThattheseshouldlosethisbeauty,Andpassfromittotheguileandtrickeryofwoman?
OfShopWindowsLookingcloselyattheglasswindowsofmyshop,Iseeinthemthewholeofmyshopreflected.Lookingatmywindowscloselyfromthestreet,Iseeinthemthelifeofthestreetreflected.YetifIstandaway,theglassremainstransparent,AndIseeclearlythroughittothethingsbeyond.IfIlookwithclosevisionIntotheheartsofmen,Iseemyownsmallheartreflected.Iwilltryhenceforthnottolookatthemtooclosely.AttheFeastofLanternsLithelyontheirstringsswingthemany-colouredlanterns,ForthisistheFeastofLanterns;AndPennyfieldsandWestIndiaDockRoadAreto-nightapartofmyowncountry,AglowwiththehuesofthePeacocksTail,Veryamiabletotheeye.InarecessofmyheartIsapoorstreethungwithlanterns.Theselanternsaremythoughts,Andtheyarelightedatthelasthoursoftheevenings,WhenthroughthisstreetWalksthewillowymaidenfromthetea-shopacrosstheroad.OneServiceBreedsAnotherOneofthispersonswhite-skinnedfriends,BillHawkins,Wholaboursatthewaterside,Hadoccasion,atthetimeofunkindweather,TorescuefromthecertainperilofdrowningOnewhohadslippedfromtheedgeofawharftothedock.Withoutrewardtheflowerservesthebee.Themotherservesthechildwithpainandtoil.Thesoldierserveshiskingwithoutkingsgratitutde.Andthispersonhasnotedwithmuchprivateamusement,How,sincethisoneservicerendered,BillHawkinsgoeseverfromhisaccustomedpathToaddservicetoservicetotheoneherescued;WhiletherescuedonelookseveruponBillHawkinsWitheyesofno-approval,indeed,withintensedisgust.AnOfferofaLodgingLittlemaidoftheyellowcurlsYoulooksadasyoupassmywindow.Youlookasthoughyouwouldliketocreepintosomewarmnest,Andhideyourgoldenhead.Oh,look,littlemaid!
Ihavemadeyouanest!
Creepintoit,andIwillhideyouaway,Quietly,inthenestofmyheart,Iwillwrapyouaroundwithversesandcoveryouwithfairthoughts.Thereisyetonelittlecornerleft,Freefromtheworldsdefilement;OnelittlecornerwherenotabreathofwrongShallentertodisturbyourslumbering.AndIwillcherishyouthereInthenestyouwillmakesopure.Iwillholdyouandguardyousafefromthesnaresofthestonystreets.Beatpeace,littlemaid,andlieintrust;Forthoughmyfeetmaystumble,andImayfall,ThecornerthathousesyouIwilleverkeepwhole.OfTwoDwellingsAtthelowerendofLimehouseCausewayIsahousewheregirlssurrendertheirbodiesTothepleasuresofbase-mindedandunpolishedmen,Inreturnforshillings.AndonthewallsaboutthishouseBlossomsatsummerthewildwhiterose.InatinyroomatthetopofatenementLivesawhitemaidofsurpassingvirtue,Gentleinmannerandquietanddutiful,CombinghergoldencurlseachmorningBeforeawindowthatlooksou
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