Tales of Moonlight and Rain

by Ueda, Akinari

  Toyoo traveled back and forth to study with Abe no Yumimaro, a priest at Shingū. One day late in the Ninth Month, the sea was remarkably calm, with no trace of wind or wave, when suddenly clouds appeared from the southeast and a gentle rain began to fall. Borrowing an umbrella at his mentor’s house, Toyoo started toward home, but just as the Asuka Shrine came into distant view, the rain fell harder, and so he stopped at a fisherman’s hut that happened to be nearby. The old man of the house scrambled out to meet him: “Well, well, the master’s younger son. I am honored that you have come to such a shabby place. Here, please sit on this.” He brushed the filth off a round wicker cushion and presented it. “I shall stay for only a moment,” Toyoo said. “Anything will do. Please do not go to any trouble.” He settled down to rest. A lovely voice came from outside, saying, “Please be kind enough to let me rest under your eaves.” Curious, Toyoo turned to look and saw a woman of about twenty, resplendently beautiful in face, figure, and coiffure, wearing a kimono printed in fine colors with the distant-mountain pattern, and accompanied by a lovely servant girl of fourteen or fifteen to whom she had entrusted a package of some kind. Drenched to the skin, she appeared to be at her wits’ end, but her face flushed with embarrassment when she saw Toyoo. His heart leaped at her elegance, and he thought, “If such a noble beauty lived around here, I would surely have heard of her before this. No doubt she is from the capital, here for a look at the sea on her return from a pilgrimage to the Three Mountains. But how careless of her not to have a male attendant.” Moving back a little, he said, “Do come in. The rain will soon end.” The woman said, “Just for a moment, then; please excuse me.” The hut was small, and when she sat directly before him, he saw that her beauty at close range was scarcely that of a person of this world. His heart soaring, he said to her, “You appear to be of noble family. Have you been on a pilgrimage to the Three Mountains? Or perhaps you have gone to the hot springs at Yunomine? What could there be for you to see on this desolate strand? Someone wrote of this place in ancient times:

  How distressing this sudden fall of rain—

  and there is no shelter at Sano Crossing of Cape Miwa.9

  Truly, the verse expresses the mood of today. This is a shabby house, but my father looks out for the man here. Please relax and wait for the rain to clear. And where are you lodging on your travels? It would be impertinent for me to escort you there, but please take this umbrella when you go.” The woman said, “Your words cheer me, and I am most grateful. My clothing will surely dry in the warmth of your kindness. I do not come from the capital but have been living near here for many years. Thinking that today would be fair, I made a pilgrimage to Nachi,10 but frightened by the sudden rain, I came bursting into this house, not knowing that you had already taken shelter here. I have not far to go; I shall start now, during this lull in the rain.” “Do take the umbrella, please,” Toyoo urged. “I will come for it sometime later. The rain shows no sign of letting up. Where is your home? I shall send someone for the umbrella.” She replied, “Ask at Shingū for the house of Agata no Manago. Soon the sun will set. I shall be on my way, then, shielded by your kindness.” She took the umbrella and left. He watched her go and then borrowed a straw hat and raincoat from his host and returned home; but her dew-like figure lingered in his mind, and when at dawn he finally dozed off, he dreamed of going to Manago’s house, where he found an imposing gate and a mansion, with shutters and blinds lowered and the lady residing gracefully inside. Manago came out to welcome him. “Unable to forget your kindness, I have longed for you to visit,” she said. “Please come inside.” Leading him in, she entertained him elaborately with saké and small dishes of food. Enraptured, he finally shared her pillow, but then day broke and his dream faded. “How I wish it had been true,” he thought. In his excitement, he forgot breakfast and left the house in high spirits.

  Arriving at Shingū, Toyoo asked for the house of Agata no Manago, but no one had heard of it. He continued his inquiries wearily into the afternoon, when the servant girl approached him from the east. Overjoyed to see her, he said, “Where is your house? I have come for the umbrella.” The girl smiled and said, “You were good to come; please follow me.” She led the way and in no time said, “Here it is.” He saw a high gate and a large house. Everything, even the shutters and the lowered blinds, was exactly as he had seen in his dream. Marvelous, he thought as he went through the gate. Running ahead, the servant girl said, “The gentleman has come for his umbrella, and I have led him here.” Manago came out, saying, “Where is he? Show him this way.” Toyoo said, “There is a Master Abe in Shingū, with whom I have been studying for some years. I am on my way to see him and thought that I would stop here for the umbrella. It was rude of me to call unexpectedly. Now that I know where you live, I shall come again.” Manago detained him. “Maroya, do not allow him to leave,” she said. The servant girl stood in his way, saying, “You forced us to take the umbrella, did you not? In return, we shall force you to stay.” Pushing him from behind, she guided him to a south-facing room. Woven mats had been placed on the wooden floor; the curtain stands, the decorated cabinet, and the illustrated draperies—all were fine antiques.11 This was not the home of any ordinary person. Manago entered and said, “For certain reasons, this has become a house without a master, and so we cannot entertain you properly. Let me just offer you a cup of poor saké.” Maroya spread delicacies from the mountains and the seas on immaculate stands and trays, presented a flask and an unglazed cup, and poured for him. Toyoo thought that he was dreaming again and must awaken. That everything was real made it all the more wonderful for him.

  When both guest and host were feeling the effects of drink, Manago raised her cup to Toyoo. Her face was like the surface of a pond that warmly greets the spring breeze and reflects the limbs of the cherry, laden with luscious pink blossoms; and her voice was as bewitching as the song of the warbler, fluttering from treetop to treetop, as she said, “If I keep my shameful thoughts to myself and fall ill as a result, which god will carry the undeserved blame?12 Do not imagine that I speak flippantly. I was born in the capital but lost my parents early and was reared by my nurse. Already three years have passed since I married a man named Agata, an assistant to the governor of this province, and came down here with him. This spring, before completing his term, my husband died of some trifling disease, leaving me with no one to rely on. When I learned that my nurse, back in the capital, had become a nun and set out on ascetic wanderings, that place, too, became for me an unknown land. Take pity on me. From your kindness yesterday as we took shelter from the rain, I know that you are a truehearted man, and so I ask that I may devote the rest of my life to serving you. If you do not dismiss me in disgust, let us initiate, with this cup, a vow of one thousand years.” Since in his agitated longing for her he had hoped for exactly this, Toyoo felt his heart leap with joy, like a bird soaring from its roost, but then he recalled that he was not yet on his own and did not have permission from his father and brother. Now joyous, now afraid, he could not find words with which to reply right away. Seeing his hesitation, Manago looked forlorn and said, “I am ashamed at having spoken, from a woman’s shallow heart, foolish words that I cannot take back. Miserable creature that I am, it was wrong for me to trouble you instead of sinking beneath the waves. Although I did not speak flippantly, please take my words as a drunken jest and cast them into the sea.” Toyoo said, “From the first, I thought that you were a high-ranking lady from the capital, and I was right. How often can someone who has grown up on this whale-haunted shore expect to hear such joyful words? I did not answer straight away because I still serve my father and my brother and have nothing to call my own but my nails and hair. I can only lament my lack of fortune, for I have no betrothal gift with which to welcome you as my bride. If you are willing to put up with all adversity, then I will do anything to stand by you, forgetting filial obedience and my status for the saké of the mountain of love, where even Confucius stumbled.“13 “What joyful words
I hear,” she said. “In that case, do please come and stay from time to time. Here is a sword that my late husband cherished as his greatest treasure. Wear it always at your waist.” She handed it to him. Decorated with gold and silver, it was a wonderfully tempered antique. To refuse a gift at the start of their relationship would be inauspicious, he thought, and so he accepted it. “Stay here tonight,” she said, eager to detain him, but he replied, “My father would punish me if I slept away from home without his leave. I shall make some clever excuse tomorrow night and come.” He departed. That night, too, he lay awake until dawn.

  Tarō rose early to assemble the net boys.14 Glancing into the bedroom through a gap in the door, he saw Toyoo in bed and, beside the pillow, a sword glittering in the lingering lamplight. “Strange, where did he get that?” Suspicious, he opened the door roughly, and Toyoo awoke to the sound. Seeing Tarō there, he said, “Do you need me for something?” Tarō said, “What is that glittery thing beside your pillow? Valuables have no place in a fisherman’s house. How Father would scold you if he saw it.” Toyoo said, “I did not spend money to buy it. Someone gave it to me yesterday, and I have placed it here.” Tarō said, “Who in these parts would give you such a treasure? If you ask me, even these bothersome Chinese writings that you collect are a terrible waste of money, but I have held my tongue until now because Father has said nothing about it. I suppose you plan to wear that sword in the procession at the Great Shrine Festival.15 Have you lost your mind?” He spoke so loudly that his father heard him. “What has that useless boy done? Bring him here, Tarō,” he called. Tarō replied, “Where could he have gotten it? Buying a glittery thing such as a general should wear—it is not right. Please call him to you and ask him about it. As for me, the net boys are probably loafing.” With this he went out. The mother summoned Toyoo: “Why did you buy such a thing? Both rice and cash belong to Tarō. What can you call your own? We have always let you do as you please, but if Tarō were to turn against you over something like this, where in the world would you live? How can one who studies the wisdom of the past fail to understand a matter as simple as this?” Toyoo said, “Truly, I did not buy it. Someone gave it to me for a good reason, but Brother was suspicious when he saw it and said what he said.” The father shouted, “And what have you done to deserve such a gift? I am even more suspicious now. Tell us the whole story this moment.” Toyoo said, “I am too embarrassed. I shall explain through someone else.” His father said roughly, “To whom can you speak if not to your parents and brother?” Tarō’s wife, the mistress of the house, was seated to one side. She said, “Inadequate though I am, I shall listen to his story. Come with me.” Thus making peace among them, she stood and led Toyoo out of the room. “I had planned to tell you secretly, even if Brother had not seen the sword and questioned me, but I was scolded before I could. A certain man’s wife,16 now left defenseless, asked me to care for her and gave me the sword. For me to proceed without permission, when I am not on my own, could bring the heavy penalty of disinheritance, and so I regret all the more what I have done. Please, Sister, take pity on me.” The mistress of the house smiled: “For some time, I have felt sorry that you sleep alone. This is very good news. Inadequate though I am, I shall put in a good word for you.” That night she explained the situation to Tarō. “Do you not think it very fortunate?” she said. “Please speak with Father and work things out.” Tarō knitted his brows: “Strange. I have never heard of an assistant to the governor named Agata. Since our family is the village head, we could hardly have failed to hear of the death of such a person. Anyway, bring the sword here.” She returned immediately with the sword, and Tarō examined it closely. Heaving a great sigh, he said, “This is terrible. Recently a court minister presented a great many treasures to the avatar when his prayer was fulfilled,17 but the sacred objects quickly vanished from the shrine treasury, whereupon the head priest appealed to the provincial governor. In order to find the thief, the governor sent the vice governor, Fun’ya no Hiroyuki, to the head priest’s mansion; and I have heard that he is now devoting all his attention to this matter. However you look at it, this is not a sword that a mere provincial official would have worn. I shall show it to Father.” Taking it to him, he explained the dreadful circumstances. “What should we do?” he asked. His father blanched. “This is a wretched business indeed. What retribution from a former life could have aroused such evil thoughts in a boy who, until now, never stole so much as a hair? If this matter is exposed by someone else, our family could be wiped out. For the sake of our ancestors and descendents, I shall harbor no regrets over one unfilial child. Turn him in tomorrow morning,” he said. Tarō waited for dawn and then went to the head priest’s mansion, where he explained matters and displayed the sword. Astonished, the head priest said, “This sword was indeed an offering from the minister.” The vice governor heard and said, “We must find the other missing objects. Arrest him.” Ten soldiers set out with Tarō in the lead. Toyoo knew nothing of this and was reading when the soldiers rushed in and arrested him. “What is my crime?” he asked, but they paid no attention and tied him up. Now that it had come to this, father, mother, Tarō, and his wife all were lost in grief. “A summons from the government office! Hurry up!” the soldiers cried as they surrounded Toyoo and pushed him along to the mansion. The vice governor glared at him: “Your theft of sacred treasures is an unprecedented crime against the state. Where have you hidden the various other treasures? Tell me everything.” Finally understanding, Toyoo began to weep and said, “I have stolen nothing. For this and that reason, the wife of a certain Agata gave the sword to me, saying that her late husband had worn it. Please summon this woman, right away, and you will understand my innocence.” “We have never had an assistant named Agata. Such lies will only make your crimes greater.” “Why would I lie, when I have already been arrested like this? I beg of you, please find that woman and question her.” The vice governor turned to the soldiers and said, “Where is the house of Agata no Manago? Take him with you, arrest her, and bring them back here.”

  The soldiers bowed respectfully and, pushing Toyoo along once more, went to the house. The posts of the imposing gate were rotting, and most of the roof tiles had fallen off and shattered; ferns had taken root and were trailing from the eaves.18 The place did not appear to be occupied. Toyoo was dumbfounded. Soldiers went around and assembled the neighbors. Old woodcutters, rice huskers, and the like knelt in terror. A soldier said to them, “Who lived in this house? Is it true that the wife of a man named Agata lives here?” An elderly blacksmith came forward and said, “I have never heard of a person by that name. Until three years ago, a man named Suguri lived here, and a lively, prosperous place it was, but then he sailed for Tsukushi with a load of merchandise and the ship was lost.19 After that, the remaining people scattered, and no one has lived here since; but the old lacquer maker here says that he was surprised to see this boy go inside yesterday and then leave a little while later.” “Let us take a good look, in any case, and report to our lord,” said the soldiers. They pushed open the gates and went in. The house was even more dilapidated than the exterior. They moved farther inside. In the spacious landscape garden, the pond had dried up, and even the water weeds had withered. A giant pine, blown over in the wind, lay ominously in the drooping thicket on the wild moor. When they opened the shutters of the guest hall, a reeking gust of air came at them, and everyone fell back in terror. Toyoo was speechless with fear and sorrow.

  Among the soldiers was a bold one named Kose no Kumagashi. “Follow me,” he said as he went in, stomping roughly on the floorboards. An inch of dust had piled up. Amid the rat droppings, beside an old curtain stand, sat a blossom-like woman. Addressing her, Kumagashi said, “The governor summons you. Come quickly.” When she did not reply, he approached and tried to grasp her. Suddenly there was a clap of thunder as violent as though the ground itself were splitting open. They had no time to escape; everyone toppled over. When they finally looked up, the woman had vanished
without a trace. Something glittered on the floor. Creeping forward, they found Korean brocades, Chinese damasks, shizuri weavings, katori weavings, shields, halberds, quivers, hoes, and the like—the lost sacred treasures.20 Gathering up these objects and carrying them back, the soldiers recounted the strange events in detail. The vice governor and the head priest, recognizing the work of an evil spirit, relaxed their investigation of Toyoo. Nevertheless, he could not escape his obvious offense. He was sent to the governor’s mansion and confined in jail. The Ōya family made large payments in an attempt to redeem him and were able to obtain a pardon after about a hundred days. Toyoo said, “Under the circumstances, I would be ashamed to mingle in society. I would like to visit my sister in Yamato and live there for a while.” His family replied, “Truly, one is likely to fall gravely ill after such a dreadful experience. Go and spend some months there.” They sent him off with attendants.