At the moment of separation, Trong Thuy was filled with a strange emotion. His wife, in her love and confidence in him, had unconsciously betrayed her father and country.
The separation was heart-rending; after many bitter tears and vows of love and devotion, he left with an unbearable pain in his heart, for he loved the princess and had to betray her ignominiously for the sake of his father and his country.
* * *
Trong Thuy then rejoined his father and gave him the holy claw. Trieu Da was overjoyed, and at once led a strong army across the land to Au Lac.
The sunlight glittered on the lances and spurs of the Chinese soldiers and their multicolored banners fluttered in the wind.
The army wound its way out of the land of Tan like a gigantic snake, and the beating of the war drums resounded in the distance like thunder.
An Duong Vuong and his daughter were playing chess when the tower watchman entered and flung himself at their feet.
"Son of Heaven and Daughter of the Dragon, the enemy is coming!"
"Let them come!" said the king, roaring with laughter at the thought of these bold and foolish men coming to meet certain death. "Have no fear, my beloved daughter, the magic crossbow will again work miracles."
And he let the enemy approach without going forth to meet them; nor did he give orders for the defense of the capital. When the sentry from the summit of the ramparts reported that the Chinese hordes obscured the horizon, he was content to say:
"Has my neighbor forgotten the magic crossbow?"
And he continued the game of chess.
When the enemy was at the very gates of Co Loa Thanh, the king arose and aimed the crossbow. But after the first shot he realized he had been betrayed. He fired again and again, but the enemy continued to flow forward like a devastating flood.
Deciding to escape, An Duong Vuong barely had time to mount his horse, bringing My Chau up behind him.
They galloped swiftly to the South, leaving An Duong Vuong's capital and kingdom behind them.
They rode past many field and marshes, and as they approached the crossroads, My Chau left a trial of goose down so that Trong Thuy might follow.
Back at the palace, Trang Thuy perceived that the king and his daughter had fled, and immediately gave chase. Guided by traces of down, he was not long in picking up their trail.
An Duong Vuong crossed plains and forests like a tornado; he scaled hills, cascaded down slopes, and crossed rivers. Each time he slowed the pace, he would hear the gallop of his pursuer. Then he would spur his horse anew, and the wild flight would begin again.
On went the king's horse, carrying them farther and farther away, until at last they came to a great sea. Not a boat was to be seen and it was apparent that there was no way to cross. The king lifted his face to the sky and cried in despair:
"O gods, have you forsaken me? And you, Holy Tortoise, where are you in my hour of need?"
Out of the deep blue sea arose the golden tortoise and cried in a powerful voice:
"Beware of the treacherous enemy who sits behind you."
The king turned around in his saddle and gazed at the princess. My Chau shivered like a leaf in a storm and large tears rolled down her cheeks.
While the princess looked at him imploringly, An Duong Vuong grasped a dagger and stabbed her ruthlessly in the heart. Then drawing his great sword, he cut off her head.
Filled with horror at his shameful deed, the king followed the golden tortoise into the storm-tossed waters, and disappeared.
When Trong Thuy arrived at the scene and discovered the severed body of My Chau, his anguish knew no bounds. Shedding bitter tears he gathered up the fragile body and carried it back to the capital for burial.
One day, unable to bear his grief any longer Trong Thuy threw himself into the deep pond where My Chau had loved to bathe. In this way his soul would go to the other world with the one he had loved.
The blood that flowed from the princess' body was washed away by the rolling sea and absorbed by the many oysters of that shore. Since that time they have produced many beautiful pearls, and legend has it that these pearls became more brilliant when dipped into the pond where Trong Thuy drowned himself.
The reputation of the pond water spread as far as China, and the emperor demanded that a vase containing the liquid be added to the triennial tribute.
* * *
Today we can see a small temple on a mountain near the seashore where Princess My Chau met her death. But it is particularly at Co Loa Thanh, the Ancient City of the Conch, that tradition keeps alive the cult of An Duong Vuong and My Chau. There, in the sanctuary of the temple, a flame has burned for 2000 years before the tablet of heroes who have fought for national independence. Farther on, a sacred banyan tree, several centuries old, covers the humble altar of Princess My Chau.
LITTLE STATESMAN LY
THERE WAS once a famous Vietnamese statesman whose name was Ly. He was very short of stature; in fact, he was so short that the top of his head was no higher than a man's waist.
Statesman Ly was sent to China to settle a very important political problem with that nation. When the Emperor of China looked down from his Dragon Throne and saw this little man, he exclaimed, "Are the Vietnamese such little people?"
Ly answered: "Sire, in Vietnam, we have both little men and big men. Our ambassadors are chosen in accordance with the importance of the problem. As this is a small matter, they have sent me to negotiate. When there is a big problem between us, we will send a big man to speak with you."
The Emperor of China pondered: "If the Vietnamese consider this important problem only a small matter, they must indeed be a great and powerful people."
So he lessened his demands and the matter was settled then and there.
THE BUFFALO BOY AND THE BANYAN TREE
COUI WAS of a very, very poor family. He had no education and the only job he could get was that of buffalo boy for a rich farmer. Every day he would look after the water buffaloes in the rice fields, prepare food for the pigs, and collect firewood in the forest. For these tasks the farmer gave him food and clothing and enough money to live on.
One day, while gathering wood in the forest far from home, Cuoi came upon a tiger cub that was frolicking in the sun. He picked up the cub intending to have some sport with it. As he did so, he heard a frightful growl from a nearby thicket. It was the mother of the cub, who had momentarily left her little one to search for game. Cuoi threw the cub to the ground and scrambled in terror up into the sheltering branches of the nearest tree. A moment later the tigress came crashing through the underbrush and growled ferociously as she saw the motionless body of her dead offspring; for Cuoi, in his haste to escape, had thrown the cub to the ground with such force it had been killed.
Up in the tree, Cuoi held his breath, for he knew that he could expect the worst. But then a strange thing happened. The tigress walked to a nearby stream and gathered the leaves from a certain banyan tree. She chewed them into a pulp which she then applied to the head of the dead cub. Immediately the young tiger jumped to its feet and ran about