7.
Finally Ming Huang left Li Po and repaired to the apartment of Yang Kuei-fei. She had never seemed more desirable. Warmed by the wine, he took her into his arms. Her anger was spent; now she was sad and wistful and teardrops still glistened in her eyes.
"Why did you neglect me?" she whispered moodily. "Have I done aught to offend you?"
"No, no," he said hastily. "I would not neglect you for anyone. But this morning at Court a celebrated poet named Li Po was presented to me. I lingered in the garden with him. We had much of mutual interest about which to talk."
"Am I, then, to be cast aside for every vagrant poet?"
"When you see Li Po, I will be forgiven."
"I hate him I" she exclaimed.
"How can you hate a poet you have never met?"
"He kept you from me!"
"Is your heart a fragile vase that may be easily broken? Don't forget, even though I love you, I am still Emperor of China."
She refused to be mollified.
"If you have banished me from your thoughts, why not again banish me from the Palace?"
"Because I cannot banish you from my heart."
He tried to grasp her body, inflamed by the sheer silk garment she wore, but she evaded him.
"I want to go away," she said, "I am unhappy here."
"It is my wish that you remain."
