Ugetsu Monogatari or Tales of Moonlight and Rain (Routledge Revivals)

by Ueda Akinari

  mine shizuka naru On the ridge, abiding in silence

  akebono ni In the early dawn,

  aogite kikeba I lift up my head and hear

  buppōsō naku?311 The bird of paradise cry.

  ‘It is handed down in legend that long ago, when High Priest Enrō,312 of the Saifukuji Temple, was the outstanding master of the Lotus Sutra, the deities of Matsuo ordered this bird to serve him always, and ever since then it is supposed to have nested in the precincts of their shrine. We have already heard the first of tonight's mysteries – the cry of the bird. Being on this spot how can I resist the inspiration !’313

  He cocked his head to one side for a moment, and in seventeen syllables of the haikai mode,314 which was one of his perennial pleasures, he recited,

  Tori no ne mo Even a bird's call

  himitsu no yama no Tells how the sacred mountain

  shigemi ka na315 Has flourished and grown.

  Taking out his travelling ink stone,316 Muzen recorded the verse by the light from the lantern hall. He strained his ears, hoping to catch the bird's cry once more, but to his surprise, from a long way off in the direction of the cloisters he heard instead a solemn shout to clear the way. Gradually the voice drew nearer.

  v Bird of Paradise: At Mt Kōya the samurai announces the approach of Toyotomi Hidetsugu and his party

  ‘What sort of person could be coming to worship this late at night ?’ Muzen exclaimed in fear and wonder. Father and son exchanged glances, and afraid even to breathe, they fixed their gaze in the direction of the voice.

  At last, a young samurai herald stamped noisily across the wooden bridge and advanced toward them. Terrified, they crouched down and hid by the right side of the hall, but the warrior quickly found them.

  ‘You, there! Who are you?’ he said. ‘His Highness approaches. Get down immediately.’

  They scurried down from the veranda and bowed low, huddling to the ground. Presently, they heard the echo of many feet and the loud reverberation of shoes.317 A nobleman wearing linen cap and court dress ascended to the hall, and four or five warriors who were with him seated themselves to his right and left.

  ‘Why haven't the others come ?’ the nobleman asked, turning to his companions.

  ‘No doubt they will soon be here,’ came the reply.

  Thereupon, more footsteps sounded, and a warrior of distinguished bearing, surrounded by Buddhist acolytes with shaven heads, made his obeisance and mounted to the hall. The nobleman, turning to the warrior who had just arrived, addressed him, saying:

  ‘Hitachi,318 why are you so late ?’

  ‘Two samurai, Shirae319 and Kumagae,320 wished to prepare some wine for your lordship,’ he replied, ‘and since they were so thoughtful, I decided to try to fix you a dish of fresh fish, and that is why we lagged behind the rest of the party.’

  As soon as they had brought out the food and drink, the nobleman called, ‘Mansaku,321 pour my wine.’

  In response, a handsome young samurai slid forward on his knees and did the honours. The wine was passed around to everyone, and great merriment ensued. Then once again the nobleman spoke:

  12 ‘Let us pass the hours meditating at the shrine of the founder’ (p. 140). Facing the Lantern Hall, behind which the actual shrine is situated.

  13 ‘When Muzen was crossing the Sanjō Bridge, he remembered about the Mound of Beasts’ (p. 149). An eighteenth century view of the area. The Zuisenji temple in the far left is also shown in detail. (From Miyako meisho zue.)

  14 ‘The men plowed in the spring and reaped in the autumn, and their household grew prosperous’ (p. 150). Painting by Yosa Buson, ‘Planting and Harvesting in the Countryside,’ paired screens made during the years 1754-57. (Kyoto Prefecture, Yano Nirō; from Buson ihō.)

  15 The Kibitsu Caldron (p. 151). (Okayama, photograph courtesy of Kadokaw.)

  ‘We haven't enjoyed Jōha's conversation lately.322 Call him.’

  The summons was relayed, and from behind the place where Muzen and his son had prostrated themselves323 a priest of huge build, broad of face and with vivacious features, straightened his priestly robes and advanced to the edge of the assemblage. When the nobleman asked him to explain a variety of points about classical matters, the priest gave a detailed reply to each question, after which his inquirer, enormously pleased, said, ‘Let him be rewarded.’

  Then a warrior addressed Jōha, saying, ‘This mountain was opened by a person of great virtue, was it not ? I've heard that although every single rock and tree here has its own spirit, the waters of the Brook of Jewels324 nevertheless contain poison, and whenever people drink it they drop dead; so Kūkai wrote,

  Wasuretemo In case you forget,

  kumi ya shitsuran And partake of these waters –

  tabibito no Travellers who ascend

  Takano no oku no Into the high recesses,

  Tamagawa no mizu325 Where the Brook of Jewels begins.

  ‘At least this is how it has been handed down. In spite of his great virtue, why couldn't Kūkai make this poisonous stream dry up ? How can you explain such a disturbing contradiction?’

  ‘Your verse,’ Jōha replied with a smile, ‘is preserved in the imperial anthology, Fūgashū. An introductory note says, “Along the path to the inner cloister of Mt Kōya, there is a stream called the Brook of Jewels, on the surface of which326 dwell numerous poisonous insects, and in order to keep people from drinking these waters, Kūkai left the following poem for posterity.” This is how it is interpreted, and the verse is just as you remembered it. Yes, one can easily understand why you should harbour doubt, because Kūkai possessed such bountiful supernatural powers. He could employ invisible deities to make paths where none had been before. He penetrated rock as easily as a normal man digs through earth. He subjugated great serpents. He tamed fabulous birds. When one recalls all the exploits for which everyone under heaven admires him, the note in front of this verse obviously fails to ring true. Since ancient times in various provinces327 there have been streams called the “River of Jewels,” and all the verses written about them praise their pure water. So, the Brook of Jewels here can hardly be poisonous. Rather, the idea of the verse is more likely that a brook of such famous name also exists on this mountain, and even though people who come here to worship may have forgotten about it, charmed by the clear running water, they will scoop it up with their hands. One may conclude that the note in front of the verse was most likely derived from some later person's mistaken report about the presence of poison. Besides, should one pursue his doubts more deeply,328 he will find that the tone of this verse is not in the style of the time when the capital was moved to Kyoto.329

  ‘But also, in the classical language of our country expressions such as “garland of jewels,”330 “jewel-bedecked curtains,”331 and “bejeweled finery”332 were used in praise of purity or beauty. “Clear water” was called “jewel water,” “jewel springs,” or “jewel brook.” Why would anyone attach the prefix “jewel-” to a stream that was contaminated ? A person who devotes himself to Buddhism333 does not necessarily understand poetry and can very easily make such mistakes. Your suspicions about the meaning of this verse show that you are very perceptive, even though you yourself do not write poetry.’

  Thus did Jōha warmly praise the warrior, and the nobleman as well as all the others in the assemblage most heartily approved of the explanation.

  From behind the hall came the cry, ‘Buppan! Buppan!’ It sounded nearby. The nobleman raised his winecup aloft and said,

  ‘This bird sings but rarely. How glorious that it does so for our drinking party tonight. Jōha! Let us have a poem.’

  ‘My short verses,’334 the priest replied politely, ‘must sound rather hackneyed to your lordship's ear. There is a traveller spending the night here, and he can write poetry in the haikai style335 that is now so popular. It may seem fresh to your lordship, so I suggest that you call on him for a stanza.’

  ‘Then send for the man,’ came the reply.

/>   A young samurai went to where Muzen knelt and said, ‘You have been summoned. Go to his lordship.’

  Unable to decide whether he was dreaming or awake and hardly able to control his fear, Muzen crept up to where Hidetsugu sat. The priest turned to Muzen and said,

  ‘Recite to his lordship the verse that you composed a short while ago.’

  ‘I'm sorry, but I can't remember what I wrote,’ said Muzen, in fear and trembling. ‘I only beg of you, forgive me.’

  Thereupon Jōha said, ‘Did you not record something about the sacred mountain ? His Lordship wishes to hear it. Quickly, recite it for him.’

  Even more afraid, Muzen replied, ‘Please tell me who this nobleman may be, that you address him in such manner and hold for him in this mountain recess a nocturnal banquet. I feel that something most strange has taken place.’

  ‘I wish to inform you,’ responded the priest, ‘that his lordship is the chancellor,336 Hidetsugu. The remaining gentlemen are Kimura Hitachi-no-suke, Sasabe Awaji,337 Shirae Bingo, Kumagae Daizen, Awano Moku,338 Hibino Shimotsuke,339 Yamaguchi Shōun,340 Marumo Fushin,341 the Lay Priest Ryūsai,342 Yamamoto Tonomo,343 Yamada Sanjūrō,344 Fuwa Mansaku, and myself, Jōha,345 Transmitter of the Law. You stand here on miraculous trial. Quickly now. Recite what you earlier wrote.’

  Indeed, if he had had any hair on his head, it surely would have stood on end, so frightened was Muzen, and he felt as though his very heart and soul were about to ascend the heavens. Trembling desperately, he removed from his pilgrim's bag a sheet of fresh paper. He wrote on it with a shaky brush and held out the document.

  Yamamoto Tonomo took it and recited in a clear voice,

  Tori no ne mo Even a bird's call

  himitsu no yama no Tells how the sacred mountain

  shigemi ka na Has flourished and grown.

  ‘Quite a fine verse,’ said the nobleman. ‘Now let us have someone to compose the last two lines.’

  Whereupon, Yamada Sanjūrō drew himself slightly forward and said, ‘Let me try my hand at it.’

  After pausing briefly to collect his thoughts, he wrote:

  Keshi taki akasu With burnt offerings we wait

  mijika yo no yuka346 For the brief night to end with dawn.

  ‘How is this?’ he asked, handing the verse to Jōha.

  ‘It's very good,’ said Jōha, and he gave it to Hidetsugu.

  ‘Not bad at all,’ said Hidetsugu by way of compliment,347 and he had the wine cup passed around once more.

  Suddenly the face of the gentleman named Awaji changed colour, and he screamed, ‘Now it's time to join battle. I hear the demons from the Hell of Fighting Beasts348 coming for us. Arise, my lord!’

  Every man assembled there grew as red as if bathed in blood. They all leaped to their feet and danced, crying out, ‘Tonight again we'll smash Ishida, Masuda, and all the rest.’349

  ‘We've shown ourselves to these good for nothing rascals, here,’ said Hidetsugu to Kimura. ‘Drag the pair of them along to the battle.’

  ‘It is not yet time for them to die,’ said several of the old retainers, who interposed themselves and forbade such action. ‘You'd better refrain from your customary evil tricks,’ and with these words, the forms of all the men seemed to vanish into the distant clouds.

  Father and son fell into a faint and for a time lay as if dead. The first signs of dawn350 broke across the eastern sky, and the falling dew, cold and wet against their skin, restored them to consciousness. But their fright remained unabated until it was fully light, and with all their heart they prayed in the name of Kūkai. When at last the sun arose, they hurried down the mountain and went on to Kyoto, where they employed medicine and acupuncture to recover their health.

  One day, when Muzen was crossing the Sanjō Bridge, he remembered about the Mound of Beasts,351 and gazing toward the Zuisenji Temple, he thought, ‘Even here in broad daylight, how ghastly it all seems!’

  Muzen told his story to people in the capital, and that is how the tale has come to be recorded.

  VI THE CALDRON OF KIBITSU

  (Kibitsu no Kama)352

  ‘You may hate the clamours of a jealous wife,353 but when you grow old you'll learn her true worth.’ Who was it that uttered those words? Even if a jealous wife does not cause you great misfortune, she will interfere with your business affairs, destroy your possessions, and bring down on you your neighbours’ criticism. And if she does cause you genuine calamity, you might lose your home, ruin your country, or become an object of ridicule for the whole world. Since ancient times the poison of jealousy has stricken untold multitudes of men.

  When a jealous woman dies, she may become a serpent. She can wreak her fury with a thunderbolt.354 Even if you should cut the flesh of a vengeful woman into mincemeat,355 it wouldn't help. True, these are extreme examples, and if a husband watches closely over his own conduct and educates his wife, he can surely avoid such disasters. Nonetheless, if a man is overcome by some capricious whim and arouses his wife's jealous nature,356 he may end up by doing harm to himself. ‘To tame a bird it takes determination; to tame a wife it requires a husband's native manliness.’ This saying is certainly true.

  In the province of Kibi,357 in the district of Kaya, in the village of Niise, there lived a man named Izawa Shōdayū. His grandfather had served the Akamatsu of Harima,358 but after the war in the first year of Kakitsu the old man fled from the Akamatsu castle and settled in Niise. Down to Shōdayū’s time three generations had passed; the men plowed in the spring and reaped in the autumn, and their household grew prosperous. But Shōdayū’s only son, Shōtarō, hated farming. He was drunken and dissipated, and he abandoned himself to lust, ignoring his father's admonitions. Because Shōtarō’s conduct upset them, his parents often discussed the problem with one another.

  ‘Surely,’ they decided, ‘if we can marry him to a lovely girl from a good family, he will straighten out of his own accord.’ They asked people to search everywhere throughout the province, and fortunately a matchmaker came and said,

  ‘The head priest of the Kibitsu Shrine, Kasada Miki, has a daughter named Isora, whom nature has blessed with great beauty. Even more, she serves her parents well, is clever at verse, and can play the zitheren. Her family descends from the Kamowake of Kibi359 and is therefore of good lineage; so, should she become connected with your house, it would be a good omen, and I ardently wish for such a union to take place. Now, sir, how do you feel about the proposition ?’

  ‘It sounds like a splendid idea,’ said Shōdayū, greatly pleased. ‘The match would be the opportunity of a thousand years for us. But the Kasadas are nobility in this province, and we are nameless peasants. And since our house hardly compares with theirs,360 I don't see how they could ever accept the offer.’

  ‘You mustn't depreciate yourself so much!’ laughed the old matchmaker. ‘I assure you that we'll raise a song in celebration.’

  Thereupon, the matchmaker went and talked to Kasada, who was also pleased, and when he told his wife, she encouraged the idea.

  ‘Our daughter is already in her seventeenth year,’ she said. ‘Morning and evening I've been praying that we can find her a good husband, and the problem has been on my mind. Let us quickly pick a day and send the Izawas our betrothal gifts.’

  So earnestly did she entreat her husband, that they decided immediately upon the marriage and prepared a response. With joy the betrothal gifts were made ready and dispatched. An auspicious day was chosen, and plans were set in order for the wedding ceremony.

  Now, people who worshipped361 at the Kibitsu Shrine customarily made an offering of various kinds of grain and prepared boiling water to seek an omen for good or ill. When the vestal virgins completed their prayers and the water came to a boil, if the omen were good the caldron sang with a sound like that of lowing oxen. If the omen were bad, the caldron remained silent. This was known as the test of the Kibitsu Caldron. Hoping that the gods meant to grant good fortune, Kasada summoned together vestal virgins and shrine at
tendants. The water was set to boil, but when Kasada performed the rite - perhaps because the gods disapproved of the marriage - there arose not even the chirping sound of an insect crying in an autumn field. Kasada felt upset and told his wife what had happened.

  ‘The caldron most likely gave no sound,’ she replied, with self-assurance, ‘because the attendants failed to purify themselves. We've already exchanged betrothal gifts, and once the scarlet cord is tied,362 you know, though the couple come from enemy houses or from different countries, nothing may be changed. Besides, the Izawas are descended from a long line of warriors, and we know they keep a strict household. Even if we tried to call the whole thing off, they would never stand for it. Isora has heard that her fiance is an elegant gentleman, and she has been counting each day - she can hardly wait.363 If we were to tell her now that something has gone wrong, there's no predicting what she might do. Then no matter how sorry we were, it would be too late.’

  How like a woman it is to inveigle a husband into agreeing. Kasada, himself, having originally favoured the idea of marriage, harboured no deep doubts. He followed his wife's wishes and continued to prepare for the wedding. Both of the families gathered with all their relatives to sing of the thousand years of the crane and the myriad ages of the tortoise364 and to wish the couple eternal happiness.

  When Isora went to her new home, she arose early365 each morning and went to bed late every night. She seldom left her father- and mother-in-law's side, and she made herself wise in her husband's ways, putting heart and soul into serving him. The older Izawas admired her filial virtues and enjoyed her companionship. Shōtarō also appreciated her efforts, and the couple lived in harmony.

  But there remained his old habit of playing around with women,366 and in due course Shōtarō fell in love with a courtesan named Sode from the port of Tomo.367 Eventually he ransomed her and set up a separate household in a nearby village, where he spent most of his days, rarely returning home. Vexed by his behaviour, Isora once tried to remind her husband that he was making his parents angry, and she accused him of being an unreliable fellow,368 but no good came of it. In fact afterward Shōtarō stayed away from home for several months.