Transcriber's Notes

• Footnotes have been renumbered and placed at the end of the Introduction and the end of each Act.
• Vertical and horizontal Japanese text on the publisher/author page has been converted to left-to-right horizontal text. All other horizontal text retains its original reading order.
• Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this text. For a complete list, please see [the bottom of this document].

Transcribers Note: The frontispiece image is a large wood-block fold-out by Utagawa Kuniyoshi (歌川 國芳) attached to the inside cover of the book. The Japanese text is ‘The Treasury of Loyal Retainers: The Faithful Ronin Withdraw to Takanawa (忠臣蔵義士高輪引取之図). It has no English caption.

CHUSHINGURA,
OR, THE
TREASURY OF LOYAL RETAINERS

BY

TAKEDA IZUMO,

MIYOSHI SHORAKU, and NAMIKI SENRYU

TRANSLATED BY

JUKICHI INOUYE

ILLUSTRATED

THIRD EDITION

TOKYO

NAKANISHI-YA

1917.

All Rights Reserved

PREFACE.

Seventeen years ago appeared a translation of the Chushingura, in which I omitted three acts of the play with the object of making the thread of the story continuous. The edition, which was a small one, was soon exhausted. I was lately asked by Messrs. Nakanishiya to touch up my old translation for republication. I have, however, taken this opportunity to make a new and complete translation of the play; and I may say that the omissions in the present translation do not exceed ten lines, if so many, such omissions being unavoidable as where the passages convey no coherent meaning or where, notably in the bantering of Yuranosuke with Okaru in the seventh act, they are too indelicate for translation. In spite of its numerous defects, I trust the present work will at least give the reader some idea of the most popular version of the most famous vendetta in Japanese history.

With a view to assist the reader to understand the spirit of the play, I have prefaced it with a lengthy introduction, in the preparation of which I received valuable assistance from Mr. Sosaku Nomura, of the Meiji Gakuin, Tokyo, to whom my best thanks are due.

JUKICHI INOUYE.

Tokyo, Japan,

September, 1910.

TABLE OF CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

THE PECULIARITIES OF THE JAPANESE LANGUAGE.

Language, the vehicle of thought as it is, conveys not unfrequently different impressions to different persons; especially is this the case when that language is not the hearer’s mother tongue. We may take in the general drift of what is said to us in a foreign tongue, but fail to understand the meaning which lies hidden beneath the surface. In reading a novel we may be unable to discriminate between a national characteristic and a personal idiosyncrasy; the rhythm and cadence of poetry may appeal to us in vain; and we may take too seriously humourous language and mistake the vulgar and coarse for the refined and elegant.

The Japanese language, which comes of a stock totally different to the Indo-European languages, has grown in a state of almost complete isolation, and in course of time, developed characteristics of its own. One of these is the abundance of vowel-sounds, for the consonants are almost invariably accompanied by vowels. Another is the frequency with which connective enclitics occur in a sentence. The Japanese is an agglutinative language, and the repetition of meaningless form-words naturally deprives the language of force and allows of little change in the order, of speech. Although there are other characteristics, the frequency of enclitics and form-words and abundance of vowels in individual words are the most important.

It is hardly necessary to dwell here upon the difficulty of translating a joruri, or semi-lyrical drama, like the Chushingura, especially as it abounds in word-plays. In the phonetic system of the Japanese language, which has a comparatively few consonantal sounds, such sounds being, as has already been stated, seldom unaccompanied by vowels, the variety of syllables is small and so, accordingly, is the number of their combinations, with the result that there is an abundance of homonymous words. The identity or similarity of sound is utilised to produce words that may be taken in more senses than one. Often, also, sentences that sound sweet and graceful are taken wholesale from literature of a former age and inserted so skilfully that one fails to detect any incongruity in the mosaic so formed; and yet, unless one is versed in the literature which has been drawn upon, it would be difficult to make out the drift of the passages in which they occur. These peculiarities are not, it is true, confined to joruri, for they may be found in all other works of lyrical nature; but they give a characteristic charm to joruri, and make it a very difficult task to translate a joruri into a European language. Thus, the eighth act of the Chushingura, which is made up of sentences and phrases of this description, fails to convey much meaning when translated into English.

THE PERIOD OF THE AKO VENDETTA.

In spite of these linguistic difficulties, an attempt has been made, it is to be hoped not altogether without success, to give in the present work the plot and spirit of the Chushingura; but for the full comprehension of the play and its motif, the reader should possess some acquaintance with the social condition, manners, and ideas of the time to which it refers.

The vendetta of the retainers of Ako, which forms the subject of the play, took place early in 1703; and the play saw the light forty-five years later, in 1748. It was a production of the golden age of Tokugawa literature. During the little more than a century and a half that have since elapsed, remarkable changes have come over society. The peace which had lasted under the Tokugawa Shogunate for two centuries and a half was rudely broken by the cannon’s roar off the coast of Uraga; and soon after, with the Restoration of the Imperial authority, the nation began to introduce the civilisation of the West. Our wars with China and Russia have greatly influenced the whole society, and our customs and manners undergone marked changes. In these days it is difficult to form a clear idea of the state of society under the feudal régime. Few of those people to-day who leave Shimbashi by the night express to awake next morning at Kobe have a definite conception of the daimyo’s procession that used to be borne on the shoulders of coolies across the River Oi which they pass in their sleep. The postal halting-places have become railway stations, and express couriers have been replaced by telegraph. And we can hardly imagine how cheap life was held in the old times when, for the loss of their lord’s treasured article, retainers who had faithfully served him and his fathers had to surrender their lives and family estates; and we can hardly bring ourselves into sympathy with those lovers who, taking their lives into their own hands, have become subjects of songs for their suicide. When even we Japanese at the present time are thus out of touch with much that was of common occurrence in our forefathers’ days two centuries ago, it is only to be expected that Old Japan should appear almost incomprehensible to the Western peoples whose manners, customs, and ways of life are totally different to ours. It is therefore believed that it would not be an altogether needless task to make a few remarks here on the condition, manners, and thought of society at that time.

THE TOKUGAWA SHOGUNATE.

Before treating, however, of the Genroku age in which the vendetta of the Ako retainers took place, which has left such a mark upon the history of this country, we must glance at the period of the Tokuwaga Shogunate. That period lasted two hundred and sixty-four years from the appointment to the Shogunate of Tokugawa Iyeyasu in 1603 to the surrender of political power to the Emperor by Tokugawa Yoshinobu in 1867. Towards the close of the Ashikaga Shogunate (1338-1573), the country was torn by factions and plunged in civil war. But the great hero Toyotomi Hideyoshi, better known as the Taiko, gave the country a brief respite from war. The predominance of his house, however, lasted only for two generations; and on the defeat of his son by Iyeyasu in 1600 at Sekigahara, supreme power fell into Iyeyasu’s hands, and the campaigns of Osaka in 1614 and 1615 put an end to the Toyotomi line. The nation now bowed to Iyeyasu’s authority, and his house ruled over it for more than two centuries and a half.

THE IMPERIAL COURT.

Society during the Tokugawa period may be generally divided into four classes, the kuge, the samurai, the common people, and the lowest classes. The Emperor reigned over the country at Kyoto; and around him were the Imperial princes, some of whom were qualified to succeed to the Throne in case of failure of Imperial issue. The kuge, or Court nobles, numbered about one hundred and thirty; their titles and offices were hereditary. They were jealous of their social position. They attended daily at the Imperial Court; but their duties mostly concerned the grant and deprivation of Court rank, various ceremonies, and Court etiquette. Administrative affairs were entirely in the hands of the feudal government. All business between it and the Imperial Court was transacted by a few high officials.

The political authority over the whole nation was held by the feudal government. The feudal system was first established by Minamoto no Yoritomo towards the close of the twelfth century; at first there was no intention of replacing the Imperial Court in the government of the country; but from various causes the political and military power fell into the Shogun’s hands. The Emperor merely watched over the sacred treasures of his House and delegated political power to the feudal government. During the civil wars the fortunes of Imperial Court seriously declined; but Ota and Toyotomi, who were loyal to the Throne, presented landed estate to the Court when they had brought the country into peace. Tokugawa frequently built Imperial palaces and presented funds for household expenses; and the Imperial House was placed in easier circumstances. But it was the policy of the Tokugawa family to hold the real power over the nation. In 1614, Iyeyasu established regulations for the control of the kuge, by which although the real power of the Imperial House was diminished the principle of loyalty to the Throne and distinction of lord and subject were strictly maintained, and Tokugawa himself set the example to the nation by his reverent treatment of the Imperial Family. Although this attitude towards the Throne was a policy of Iyeyasu, it was also an expression of the innate loyalty and patriotism of the people. Thus, the dignity of the Imperial Family remained unimpaired; and it may be seen from the original cause of the Ako revenge how high the importance was attached to the reception of Imperial envoys.

THE SAMURAI.

The samurai were all under the control of the feudal government. Those whose annual stipends were not less than ten thousand koku of rice were called daimyo, those below them were hatamoto, and the lowest were kenin. The daimyo were of three classes, lords of provinces, lords of castles, and lords of domains without castles. They ruled over their domains. Asano Takumi-no-Kami, the vengeance for whose death forms the subject of the Chushingura, was the lord of the castle of Ako in the province of Harima; his annual income was 50,000 koku; he belonged to the second category of daimyo. The daimyo came in turn to Yedo for a short stay; and among their retainers, some remained permanently in Yedo, while others accompanied their lords on their journeys to and from the Shogun’s city. The samurai who left their clans and drifted about, or for some reason, lost their stipends, were known as ronin. Such were the retainers of Ako who lost their stipends through the fall of their lord’s house.

THE COMMON PEOPLE.

By common people were meant the merchant and agricultural classes. They were not permitted to wear swords or have family names; and they were known only by their individual names. Thus, merchants and artisans were called by their trades and farmers by their villages.

Besides the above-mentioned kuge, samurai, and the common people were the lowest classes. Although there were in this way four grades of society, such grades did not regulate the material circumstances of the people belonging to them; but as a whole the kuge were poor and the daimyo wealthy. With the samurai wealth was considered contrary to the principles of Bushido; and while they made it their pride that they possessed no more than a hat to shelter them from wind and rain, few tried to accumulate wealth; but as the samurai spirit began to decline, there were many who sought for wealth. The most wealthy were to be found among the common people, for, debarred from the rights and privileges enjoyed by the samurai, they directed all their energies to money-making; it must, however, be added that many of them also lived in abject poverty.

BUSHIDO AND ITS CHARACTERISTICS.

The vendetta of the retainers of Ako was an outward expression of the spirit of Bushido. A few words must be here added regarding Bushido, a peculiar product of our country, which reached its highest development under the Tokugawa régime.

The people of the Eastern Provinces, the centre of which was Yedo, were from the oldest times noted for their fearless courage. Moreover, when Yedo became the seat of the feudal government, the samurai who had been engaged in rapine and slaughter during the wars preceding the Shogunate of Tokugawa, flocked to the city and made it their place of residence. The city became the second home of the simple and intrepid samurai of Mikawa, the province, of which Tokugawa Iyeyasu was originally daimyo; and the retainers of other clans also repaired thither in great numbers. In fact, Yedo was the centre of neither commerce nor industry; it had been established solely for the residence of samurai; and there hundreds of thousands of samurai gathered to practise military arts. In short, in Yedo, Bushido was in greatest vigour. The principal elements of Bushido were three in number:—

The first of these was the high esteem for military valour and practice of military arts. It was the most important of the samurai’s accomplishments. In remote antiquity, the two families of Mononobe and Otomo took to the profession of arms and guarded the Imperial Court. It became their hereditary office to act as the Imperial bodyguard. All their descendants were trained in military arts and grew up to be men of high resolution and integrity. They were taught to refrain from all acts likely to bring dishonour upon their family name. When, however, the Fujiwara family came into possession of the political power, military affairs began to decline and give place to civil affairs which were then held in high esteem. The military profession was regarded with contempt and looked upon as fit only for barbarians. This slighting of the military calling was due to communication at this period with China, whose civilisation so dazzled the Japanese that they caught the literary effeminacy which then afflicted that country. The samurai of Kyoto the capital gradually lost their former military spirit. But Bushido was not seriously affected by its decline in Kyoto; for this effeminacy was confined to the capital and its immediate neighbourhood. Those, for whose ambition Kyoto was too small, mostly migrated into the country where they strengthened their position. And Bushido found its home in the country and there it developed without obstruction. These ambitious men lived in different provinces; and when their families grew too bulky, the members established themselves in other places. Most of them became powerful men with large domains. They had many followers, who became their private soldiers. The relations between these local magnates and their adherents continued unchanged for ages. The lord took care of his adherents and instructed and encouraged them so that they might prove of service to him in an emergency, and they, on their part, trained themselves in military arts so that they might be able to show their loyalty to their lord. Thus, Bushido was driven out of the political centre of the land by the introduction of Chinese civilisation and grew up in the country, especially in the Eastern Provinces, because those provinces were lower in the degree of civilisation and at the same time retained a spirit peculiar to them. Military training was pursued to the highest pitch in the East; the samurai, whether leader or follower, considered it cowardly to show the back to the enemy, and always feared to bring dishonour upon their family name. They looked upon it as shame to themselves not to die when their lord was hard pressed and not to help another in his difficulty. Their own shame was the shame upon their parents, their family, their house, and their whole clan; and with this idea deeply impressed upon their minds, the samurai, no matter of what rank, held their lives light as feather when compared with the weight they attached to the maintenance of a spotless name. In their breasts was always present the thought that an unstained reputation was of highest value to those whose profession was of arms, and it was disgrace upon a samurai to be spoken of as having fled for fear of the enemy. Especially, when the Minamoto and Taira clans became the two great military families in the eleventh century, was this spirit carefully instilled into the hearts of their followers; and the characteristics of the samurai became more highly developed and the path of conduct of the subject towards his lord, of the soldier towards his commander, and of samurai towards each other became clearly defined to a degree unparalleled in any other age or country of the world. This path was called the path of loyalty, which was the second essential element of Bushido Thus, by failure to follow this path, the samurai forfeited the name, he was despised and held up to scorn as a leper and a man of no spirit. Such contempt, once a man was exposed to it, was heaped upon him to the end, and he himself felt it keenly until death; and however wealthy he might subsequently become, he was too ashamed to hold up his face in public. If, on the other hand, he strictly followed the path of loyalty, he was constantly praised by friend and foe alike; and consequently, if a man was born of an unexceptionable lineage and had any military prowess of his ancestors to boast of, he would, in the battle-field even when a question of a few minutes was of vital importance, stand up before the enemy and make boast of it to them. The third essential element of Bushido to be mentioned is the high estimation of honesty and integrity and disregard of pecuniary profit. It was considered most despicable to change one’s mind for lucre. Even when he was offered a thousand pieces of gold, the true samurai should not for a moment alter his original intention. The samurai gave money, but did not lend it; and he received money, but did not borrow it. To borrow money with a promise of repayment was to rely upon one’s life continuing till the morrow, which was unworthy of a samurai. At the time of the invasion of Korea towards the close of the sixteenth century, Hineno Hirotsugu, before he set out on his mission to that country, borrowed a hundred pieces of silver from Kuroda Josui, and upon his return he went to Kuroda to repay the money; but the latter told him that he had not lent it in hope of its being repaid, and in the end he absolutely refused to take it back.

The essential elements of Bushido may appear, when only these three are mentioned, to be very simple; but that is far from being the case, for there are many other minor elements which go to its making. But one that deserves special mention, and may indeed be deduced from the elements above described, was the keeping of one’s word. Once anything was undertaken, it was dishonourable not to carry it out even at the sacrifice of life, property, and all that one possessed. Thus, in a bond of debt often appeared the words “in case of failure to repay this money, I shall be no longer looked upon as a man,” or “if I should by any chance neglect to repay this money, I should not utter a word of protest even if you laughed at me before company.” From these words the honesty and simplicity of the samurai may be readily inferred. The contempt for money and money-making which they expressed at all times had no doubt been handed down from the period of civil wars, when the whole country being overrun by soldiery, those who possessed wealth were in constant danger of attack and robbery. To the warriors whose lives could never be called their own, money was only a means of temporary gratification of their senses; for if they fell into straits, they merely robbed, and in war time money was of less value to them than a mouthful of food or a sword, and it was only natural that they should be utterly indifferent to its acquisition. Kono Moronao is made in the Chushingura to take bribes, because the authors wished to exhibit him as a man utterly bereft of the Bushido spirit and so contrast him with the loyal retainers who are the mirror of chivalry and single-heartedness; for the same reason he is shown up as a poltroon. The qualities above referred to are the characteristics of Bushido; and that they composed the spirit peculiar to our country will be patent to all who study the history of Japan from the oldest times. But Bushido underwent slight changes with the progress of the times, and coming under the influence of Buddhism and Confucianism, it was brought to perfection under the Tokugawa régime, especially in the Genroku era in which the Ako vendetta took place.

“SEPPUKU.”

It would be tedious to describe one by one the customs of the samurai, which may be taken as the outward expressions of Bushido in its most developed form; but perhaps the most conspicuous among them was the vendetta, to which, on account of the important part it plays in the Chushingura, we will refer later on. Another custom was the seppuku (or harakiri), or self-disembowelment. It was an act inspired by the spirit of Bushido which urges loyalty and considers life light as compared with the preservation of one’s honour. Death was looked upon as an atonement for all faults and errors. One who had acted contrary to the principles of Bushido did not wait for others to lay their hands upon him, but slew himself without hesitation; and he who showed fear or irresolution on such occasion was looked upon as bringing dishonour upon the samurai’s name. The death of Kanpei in the sixth act of the Chushingura is an instance in point. A samurai guilty of a serious offence which deserved capital punishment was sentenced to commit seppuku. In such case the order to commit seppuku, instead of being beheaded like a common criminal, was looked upon as an honour, as may be seen in the fourth act of the Chushingura where Enya Hangwan is condemned to death. A curious form of seppuku was the junshi, the suicide of a retainer upon the death of his lord in order to serve him still in the other world. This custom, which was in great vogue in the early years of the Tokugawa régime, was founded upon the principle of Bushido that it was dishonourable for a samurai to serve a second master. Some went so far as to look upon it as a stain upon their honour to serve the heir of their dead master and so followed him to the grave. The feudal government, however, prohibited this practice by law and threatened with severe punishment all who violated it; and by the Genroku era the junshi was entirely discontinued.

VENDETTA.

We may now proceed to touch upon the custom of vendetta. Among the most marked social products of the Tokugawa period must be mentioned vendetta. It was the favourite subject for the novels, ballads, and plays of the period and was treated so frequently that it seemed to be the peculiar product of that period. But the vendetta was not peculiar to that age. It made its first appearance some fifteen centuries ago and was known in every period of our national history. The revenge of the Soga Brothers, for instance, who killed their enemy in 1193 seventeen years after their father’s murder, is the most famous of our vendettas and was sung in songs, played on the stage, and treated in novels, of the Tokugawa period. There were many vendettas before the Tokugawa age; and what made them appear peculiar to that age was the strong contrast they presented to the idle, luxurious life which was resulting from the long-continued peace under the Tokugawa rule; and for that reason they attracted the greatest attention of the nation.

A vendetta is the wreaking of vengeance upon a man’s murderer by his relations, friends, or retainers. It took place not only when the murderer killed his victim with his own hand, but also when he incited another to the act, or even when one struck and killed a man without intent to murder. Strictly-speaking, it was of course the duty of the state to punish a murder and not to leave it to private vengeance; a vendetta was, in fact, an act done in defiance of the punitive right of the state and subversive of the social order. In the Yedo period, society was, it is true, kept in strict order, and the relations between lord and retainer and between father and child were rigorously observed; but it was also a period in which an intimate connection subsisted between morality and law, and the vendetta was recognised as an unavoidable act originating in the intense feelings of loyalty and filial piety. It was permitted on moral grounds as the result of the teachings of Bushido and Confucianism. It may here be added that although the vendetta of the Ako retainers was a subject of discussion among contemporary and later scholars, the question turned upon whether the retainers were justified in looking upon Kira Yoshinaka as their true enemy; no doubt was ever expressed upon the legitimacy of vendetta itself.

The formal procedure for carrying out a vendetta in the Tokugawa period was first for the avenger to apply for permission, if he lived in Kyoto, to the deputy-governor, if in Yedo, to the city magistrate, and if in the provinces, to the local lord; and these reported it to the central government, which then entered it in the official register and gave the required permission. Now, the murderer seldom remained quietly in the locality where the act was committed, but almost invariably fled to other territories; and therefore it was probable that if the avenger killed him as he always did regardless of time or place immediately he discovered him, he would cause a disturbance there and might be brought to account for it. If, however, his vendetta was entered in the official register, he was permitted to kill his enemy anywhere. In such case, the local officials came as soon as they heard that a vendetta had taken place, and if they were satisfied that it had been officially registered, they took no further note of the matter. However, even when it had not been registered, they usually let the avenger go if it was shown that he had not been actuated by malice, but had done the deed from loyalty or filial piety.

If, after the official permission had been obtained, the enemy died before the revenge could be taken, it had to be reported with satisfactory proofs of his death. Such procedure was considered necessary, because after the official registration, the avenger took leave of his lord, who assisted him in every way and made him parting presents, and the avenger naturally set out full of hope; but it sometimes happened that when he was unable to find his enemy after a long search and at the same time his purse became lighter every day, he longed for home and with his first resolution now gone, he grew anxious to give up the fruitless search. In such cases he might come home, pretending that his enemy was dead. And it was to prevent such fraud that satisfactory proofs of the enemy’s death were required to free the avenger from the duty which he had voluntarily undertaken.

The avenger was usually the murdered man’s inferior, although sometimes he was his superior in position. He was in most cases his son, younger brother, relative, servant, pupil, or intimate friend.

The person upon whom vengeance was to be wreaked was not necessarily a bad man. In the early years of the Tokugawa régime, duels were of frequent occurrence among the samurai; they seldom discussed which were right and which wrong in a dispute. If there was a difference, one would exclaim, “Come, let us fight it out;” to which the other would as lightly express his willingness, and they drew their swords on the spot. Thus, a duel was an appeal to arms made by mutual agreement; and the vanquished had no cause of resentment against the victor. Yet his surviving family often took up his cause and revenged themselves upon his adversary. Sometimes justice was on the enemy’s side and the avenger was entirely in the wrong. Such cases were unavoidable when vendetta had the moral sanction of the nation and was practically a duty imposed upon the nearest relative of the murdered man.

Although the vendetta may be said to have been concluded when the avenger had killed his man, yet the avenger himself was sometimes looked upon as the enemy by his victim’s family, who, thereupon, commenced a vendetta against him. Next, the first avenger’s family would upon his death take revenge upon the second avenger, and so on, so that the feud would become as interminable as a Corsican vendetta. To put a stop to such endless vendettas, the Tokugawa Government strictly prohibited secondary vendettas.

Again, in a duel between the avenger and his enemy, the former was not unfrequently killed. Hence, the avenger sometimes was accompanied by his second. The second usually fought the enemy when the principal was in danger of being beaten; but in some cases he fought side by side with the principal. That was mostly the case when the avenger was a child or a woman, who had no chance against the adversary. It may be mentioned that when the government was reorganised upon the accession of the present Emperor, a law was issued in 1873 strictly prohibiting vendettas.

EARLY YEARS OF THE TOKUGAWA PERIOD.

In the early years of the Tokugawa period, the samurai still retained the rough and violent manners of the period of civil wars; they despised gentleness as characteristic of the effeminate people of Kyoto and luxurious living as peculiar to the merchant class, while they trained themselves in military arts and fostered military spirit. Such was the turbulence of those times that even merchants wore swords when they walked the streets. They had indeed need of them; for innocent men were cut down in the streets at night to try the temper of swords. Servants who were guilty of theft, had failed to accompany their master as he came home on horseback, or eloped with female fellow-servants, were punished at the will of their master, who tested the edge of a new sword upon their necks. The feudal government frequently issued laws to put an end to these violent acts.

THE “OTOKODATE.”

This prevalence of strong military spirit gave rise to a peculiar class of men, known by many names, the most common of which was otokodate. In all classes of society in the beginning of the Tokugawa rule, rough manners and turbulent spirit prevailed; but more especially among the hatamoto, or immediate feudatories of the Shogun, was it the case. They were samurai of Mikawa, the native province of Tokugawa Iyeyasu, and retained the simple manners and intrepid spirit of their country home; they prided themselves upon the fact that small as their stipends were, they were under the direct command of the Shogun, and in their pride, they lorded it over the streets of Yedo. Among the merchant class were some who were indignant at the arrogance of the samurai and their contemptuous treatment of the merchant and agricultural classes; they also trained themselves in military arts and opposed the tyranny of the military class; and they formed a special class under the name of otokodate. These otokodate mostly lived by gambling; they made it their business to take up other people’s quarrels or to mediate in them; and they spent their lives to a large extent in the pleasure-quarters. Yet their ideal was not inconsistent with the principles of Bushido; for they took pleasure in helping the weak and crushing the strong, they kept their word with the most scrupulous care, and if a mere stranger respectfully begged for their assistance, they would help him even at the risk of their lives. They refused to be beaten in anything by others, a word of insult was enough to draw their sword out of the scabbard, and the least grudge was repaid; they hated to work for profit and thought it undignified to count money. They went to eating-houses and ate their full; and if they had no money, they went away without paying. If they were pressed for payment, they used their fists; but if they were treated with respect and allowed to leave without payment, they came again when they had money and repaid more than their debt. These otokodate infested every part of the city in the early years of the Tokugawa period and so much damage was caused by their quarrels that they were suppressed in the Genroku era. They were punished with such severity that their number gradually diminished; but their customs did not altogether disappear. Among the ordinary citizens of Yedo were many who esteemed the samurai spirit of the first years of Tokugawa and the manners of the otokodate. In what is called the Yedo spirit is to be detected much which originated with the otokodate; for the true-born natives of Yedo show to this day the same hatred of being beaten by others, love of quarrel, contempt for skin-flints, and inability to keep the day’s earnings until the next day. Amakawaya Gihei, in the tenth act of the Chushingura, is a good sample of a chivalrous-spirited merchant after the manner of the otokodate.

THE GENROKU PERIOD

Some eighty years after the establishment of the Tokugawa Shogunate began the Genroku period. The Shogun at the time was the fourth of Iyeyasu’s line. No insurrection was feared at home and there was as little danger of the country’s isolation being disturbed by foreign invasion, for no foreigner was allowed to trade in Japan with the exception of the Dutch and Chinese, whose trade was confined to Nagasaki. The country, in short, enjoyed absolute peace and grew in wealth and prosperity. Such was the condition of the land in the Genroku period, which takes its name from the Genroku era (1689-1701) and extended over some fifty years beginning with the Tenna era in 1681 and ending with the Kyoho era in about 1735. It was a period of great importance in the history of Japanese manners, institutions, and literature. The first years of the Tokugawa régime were a period of turbulent militarism and its last years that of indolence and immorality; in the Genroku period, however, the rough militaristic spirit was nearly gone, but the people had not yet fallen into weak and effeminate ways; luxury and extravagance had commenced their sway, but the brave military spirit had not yet vanished. It marked, like the Heian period of the ninth and tenth centuries, the highest stage of Japanese civilisation; and with the dark age of internecine wars intervening between these two periods, it was, indeed, our age of renaissance.

During this period, Bushido, in spite of some evils that attached to it, reached its highest level. This peculiar spirit of Japan had been influenced in the earlier ages by the doctrines of Buddhism; but coming under the influence of Confucianism when the Tokugawa family came into power, it became a cult of complete growth and took its final form early under the Tokugawa rule. But Bushido, like all other institutions, was bound to undergo changes as time went on. Under Shogun Iyetsuna (1650-1680), the fourth of the Tokugawa line, the old sturdy military spirit began to decline in Yedo; and under his successor Tsunayoshi (1680-1709), the Genroku period came in with its love for luxurious living, display, and immorality, with the result that Bushido which had been developed to the highest degree among the warriors of the Eastern Provinces left Yedo, the centre of those provinces, and sought refuge in the country, where it remained unimpaired among the simple samurai of the daimiates. The Ako vendetta was a striking instance of its hold upon the country samurai.

The changes of manners under the Tokugawa Shogunate spread as a rule from Yedo to the provinces. But in the early years of that Shogunate Yedo was not yet the centre of Japanese civilisation; for though it held the foremost position in military arts, it was in literature, art, and other things inferior to Kyoto and Osaka which were as cities far older. The Eastern Provinces changed their manners by imitating those of these two western cities. But the manners and customs of the latter cities were at the time almost directly opposite to those of Yedo. They were soft, frivolous, and elegant to effeminacy; Kyoto had, since it became the capital of the country in 794, been the centre of Japanese civilisation, while Osaka which had been from the oldest times an important port for vessels sailing to and from the western provinces, became especially prosperous from the days of Hideyoshi the Taiko (1536-97); and while they had long lost the simplicity and straightforwardness of more primitive districts, they were less moved by a sense of honour, more impelled by desire for wealth, and became more and more luxurious as they advanced in civilisation, and naturally grew more fond of ostentation.

The characteristics of the Genroku period were then represented by the manners and tastes of Kyoto and Osaka. In that period, though Yedo was firmly established as the political centre of the country, it had to import from Kyoto and Osaka their literature and customs, which were thereupon acclimatised in Yedo. The true Yedo spirit and manners did not come into being until a century later, that is, the beginning of the nineteenth century.

THE MERCHANT CLASS.

The centre of the literature and customs of Kyoto and Osaka was not, as in Yedo, the samurai, but the merchant. The merchant who had, until a generation or two previously, been oppressed by class distinctions, came in the long period of peace to acquire wealth and extravagant habits as the standard of living rose. For as the means of transportation and communication developed, many of them made large fortunes by engaging in building and public works. There were not a few of these noted men of wealth in Osaka and Kyoto. In Osaka the world was the merchants’; and the samurai, however high he might hold up his head, had to yield in actual power to the common people.

As there were many wealthy men among the merchants who spent money freely, they were the best customers in theatres and in pleasure-quarters. The samurai, too, grew in time to envy the merchant’s popularity and began finally to imitate his ways. The manner in which Yuranosuke is drawn as a man about town in the seventh act of the Chushingura, may be due partly to the fact that the authors were all of the merchant class; but it also serves to show the general behaviour of samurai in pleasure-quarters.

THE PLEASURE-QUARTERS.

But a merchant could only be a merchant; the strict social distinctions could no more than the hereditary character of family occupations be set aside. And the only place where the merchants could spend money lavishly without fear of the samurai and without distinction of classes, was the pleasure-quarters. The attitude of the people of that time towards those quarters was different to the attitude of men of the present time. Love between the sexes was condemned by the moral teaching of the time; and it was not to be thought of that men and women should exchange love of their own free will. Not only women, but men, usually left entirely to their parents the arrangements for their marriages; and when the husband and wife lived together, they appeared to the world somewhat in the relations of master and servant, however much they might really love each other. Some of Chikamatsu Monzaemon’s plays depict men and women freed from all trammels and indulging in unfettered love. These plays won the admiration and sympathy of the world because they were written with peculiar skill by their great author. But otherwise, the people of the period regarded such characters as being immoral and licentious; and while they pitied them for their sufferings, they condemned no less their lack of chastity. In the pleasure-quarters was to be found a world free from social restraint and from fetters of morality, where could be seen women in their natural mood, untrammelled by restraints of any kind. These quarters were outlets for the depressed spirits caused by the pressure of the negative policy of the Tokugawa government, where all ranks and grades of society could associate freely and on equal terms. The quarters in Yedo, Kyoto, and Osaka were frequent subjects of plays and novels of the time; indeed, it may be said that more than half the literature of the Genroku period was devoted to these quarters and their inhabitants.

THE “CHUSHINGURA.”

The revenge of the Ako retainers took place in the twelfth month of the fifteenth year of Genroku (January, 1703); and few months later, a play founded on it was already on the stage. In 1706, the Takemotoza, the great puppet-theatre of Osaka, put up a ballad drama by Chikamatsu Monzaemon, called Kenkohoshi-Monomiguruma, upon the same subject, which the same great dramatist followed up with another, entitled Goban-Taiheiki, in which the story was carried back to the time of the first Shogun of the Ashikaga line in the middle of the fourteenth century. In this play occur for the first time the names of Kono Moronao and Enya Hangwan, noted warriors of that period, as those of the two enemies whose fatal quarrel gave rise to the great vendetta, and also the loyal chief councillor of Asano appears as Oboshi Yuranosuke and the humblest of the loyal retainers, Terasaka Kichiemon, is disguised under the name of Teraoka Heiyemon. After this, several plays of more or less merit were performed in Yedo, Kyoto, and Osaka. A noted actor of the time, Sawamura Sojuro, made a great hit with one of these plays in Osaka in 1746 and in Kyoto in the following year; and a famous writer of puppet-plays named Takeda Izumo, who saw these successes of Sojuro, produced in collaboration with Namiki Scnryu and Miyoshi Shoraku in 1748 the play, Kanadehon-Chushingura, which is translated in the following pages. It was put up, as originally intended, at a puppet theatre and afterward at an ordinary theatre. It became not only the most celebrated version of the vendetta, but also the most popular of all plays; and other plays upon the subject of the loyal retainers of Ako were entirely dropped. So great is even at the present time the fame of the play that the revenge of Ako retainers is better known as Chushingura and its hero Oishi Kuranosuke sounds less familiar to the ears of the common people than his play-name of Oboshi Yuranosuke. For the latter name which first appeared in Chikamatsu’s Goban-Taiheiki is adopted in the Chushingura, as also the names of Enya Hangwan, Kono Moronao, and Teraoka Heiyemon. The play still retains its popularity and it is even now, as it used formerly to be, in many theatres the stock play for the last month of the year since it is sure to draw large houses, just as the plays founded on the vendetta of the Soga brothers are the most commonly performed in the first month.

We will now proceed to discuss the plot of the play and compare it with the true story of the famous vendetta.

THE ATTACK IN THE PALACE.

It was the established custom under the Tokugawa rule for the feudal government to offer to the Imperial Court a large sum of money and other articles as presents when a messenger was sent there to tender the New Year’s greetings in the first month of every year; and the Imperial Court, too, despatched envoys to Yedo to inquire after the Shogun’s health. On such occasion the Shogun’s government specially appointed from among the daimyo officers to attend upon the Imperial envoys. On the day on which the Shogun received the envoys took place a great ceremony at which the Shogun himself received the Imperial message direct from the envoys; on the following day a performance of No was given in their honour, after which a grand banquet was held. On the third day the Shogun himself presented his reply to the Imperial message. Throughout these ceremonies the daimyo immediately connected with the Shogun and others then staying in the city presented themselves at the Palace in full Court dress.

In the second month of the fourteenth year of Genroku (1701), when it was announced that the envoys of the Emperor Higashiyama and the Ex-Emperor Reigen were coming to Yedo, Asano Takumi-no-Kami Naganori, Lord of Ako, in the province of Harima, and Date Sakyo-no-suke Muneharu, Lord of Yoshida, in the province of Iyo, were appointed officers to entertain the envoys, and the Kōke,[1] Kira Kozuke-no-Suke Yoshinaka and Otomo Omi-no-Kami Yoshitaka, were ordered to receive them. At first Takumi-no-Kami declined the appointment, for though it was a great honour to him and his family, he was, he pleaded, unused to Court etiquette; but one of the Court Councillors replied that there was not one daimyo who was used to such office, but as Kira Kozuke-no-Suke was well versed in these matters from having for many years taken part in the reception of the envoys, he could perform his duties by consulting him. And Takumi-no-Kami was obliged to accept the appointment.

Date Sakyo-no-Suke being still young, his councillors managed all his affairs; and knowing Kozuke-no-Suke’s character, they made him valuable presents when they asked him to instruct their lord in the ceremonies which he was to attend. Takumi-no-Kami’s councillors on duty in Yedo were Yasui Hikozayemon and Fujii Matazayemon; and though he told them to send presents to Kozuke-no-Suke, they, being unused to the world’s ways, made presents which were far smaller than Date’s and thereby aroused Kozuke-no-Suke’s anger. Kozuke-no-Suke then determined, when Takumi-no-Kami asked for instruction, to make him commit blunders and fall into disgrace. On the 11th day of the third month (April 6th, 1701), the Imperial envoys arrived in Yedo; and on the following day they proceeded to the Shogun’s castle and presented the Imperial messages; and on the 14th they were entertained at a banquet. All these ceremonies were concluded without a hitch. The 15th was the day on which the Shogun was to present a reply to the Imperial messages. Early in the morning, the Shogun’s near relatives and other daimyo and lower lords were awaiting the arrival of the envoys in the Pine Corridor (so called from pictures of pine-trees on the doors), when Kozuke-no-Suke began to abuse Takumi-no-Kami for his ignorance of Court etiquette. The latter, who had hitherto borne his insults in silence, now lost his temper and struck the other’s forehead with his sword. As Kozuke-no-Suke sank on the floor, he cut at him on the shoulder. As Kozuke-no-Suke then rose and fled stumbling, his enemy pursued him, but was prevented from striking him again by being caught from behind by Kajikawa Yosobei, an attendant of the Shogun’s mother. Kozuke-no-Suke’s wounds were slight and were immediately attended to by Court physicians. The Shogun, who had intended to show every respect to the envoys, was highly incensed when he heard of this attack and ordered an inquiry to be made into the matter. He appointed on the spot a daimyo to take Takumi-no-Kami’s place, and concluded without further accident the ceremony of presenting a reply to the Imperial messages. When the inquiry was held, Kozuke-no-Suke averred that he had given no cause for the attack, which Takumi-no-Kami had made in a fit of insanity, while Takumi-no-Kami asserted that Kozuke-no-Suke’s frequent insults were such that he could no longer bear them in silence and so had drawn his sword.

The above incidents afford the material for the attack scene in the third act of the Chushingura, and are the true cause of the vendetta of the Ako retainers. The story of Moronao’s love for Kaoyo is taken from the twenty-first book of the Taiheiki, which gives a romantic history of the wars and other events during fifty years from 1318 to 1367. The names of Kono Moronao and Enya Hangwan, which were first used by Chikamatsu in his play, were taken from that book. The story told in that work is briefly as follows:— The daughter of Prince Hayata, a connection by marriage of the Emperor Godaigo, was considered one of the most beautiful women of her time. She was given in marriage to Enya Hangwan Takasada in the province of Izumo; but Kono Musashi-no-Kami Moronao was also deeply in love with her. He made love to her, but was rejected. Piqued at her refusal, he pretended to the Shogun that Enya was plotting against him. The Shogun believed his words, and Enya was compelled to fly for his life to his province. He revolted in self-defence, but was attacked by the Shogun’s forces, and finally put an end to himself.

The first act of the play treats only of the collision between Moronao and Wakasanosuke; it is merely a byplay to prepare the spectator for an exhibition of the respective characters of Moronao, Enya, and Wakasanosuke.

The second act presents Honzo in his lord’s house and makes Wakasanosuke an indirect cause of Enya’s ruin. As Wakasanosuke corresponds to Sakyo-no-Suke, Honzo is made to act as the latter’s councillors did and offer valuable presents to Moronao. And to economise the characters of the play, Honzo takes Kajikawa Yosobei’s place and stops Enya when he pursues Moronao, and his daughter Konami is promised in marriage to Oboshi’s son Rikiya, all which leads to the tragedy in the ninth act.

TAKUMI-NO-KAMI’S DEATH.

Takumi-no-Kami had caused a disturbance in the Palace by giving vent to private resentment although he was on duty as officer for the entertainment of the Imperial envoys, and thereby shown great disrespect to the Imperial House; and on those grounds he was given in charge to Tamura Sakyo-dayu, Lord of Ichinoseki, in Mutsu, and ordered to commit seppuku on the same day. The inspectors and others to be present at the self-immolation were appointed on the spot. At Lord Tamura’s mansion, mattings were spread on the ground in front of a small reception-room, and upon them were laid mats, which were then covered with a rug, and curtains were hung all around. Takumi-no-Kami’s head-page, Kataoka Gengoemon, who had attended his lord to the Palace and waited for his return at the gate, ran back immediately to his lord’s mansion when he heard of the attack in the Palace; and after reporting it there, he went to Lord Tamura’s mansion and was permitted to be present at his lord’s death. Takumi-no-Kami composed an ode which ran:—

“Frailer far than the tender flowers

That are soon scattered by the wind,

Must I now bid a last farewell

And leave the genial spring behind?”

And calmly he put an end to himself. He was in his thirty-fifth year.

In the scene of Hangwan’s death in the fourth act of the Chushingura, Hangwan is made to wait impatiently for Oboshi’s arrival and to see him when he had just thrust the dirk into his body; but as a matter of fact, Yuranosuke and his son were at the time at Ako, in the province of Harima. The lamentations of Kaoyo in the same scene are equally fictitious. For Takumi-no-Kami’s wife was in his mansion at Teppozu near the River Sumida, and upon hearing of his death, she shaved her head at once and became a nun under the name of Yosen-in, and spent the rest of her life in prayers for her husband. The mansion in Yedo was confiscated.

Takumi-no-Kami’s domain was also to be forfeited. When his death became known at Ako on the nineteenth of the third month, that is, four days after the attack, Oishi Kuranosuke, who was in charge of the castle, convoked a meeting of all the retainers of Ako and informed them of the whole affair. From sympathy for his lord’s feelings at the time of his death, he said to them that as it was the loyal subject’s duty to die if disgrace fell upon his lord, they must discuss how they should put an end to themselves. Some of the loyal retainers exclaimed with indignation that they should proceed at once to Yedo and cut off Kozuke-no-Suke’s head to appease their lord’s angry spirit, while others as firmly urged that they should not surrender the castle, but hold it to the last against the government officers until they were killed to a man. After heated discussion, it was finally decided to surrender the castle. And when, on the eighteenth of the following month, the officers came to take possession of it, the retainers remained quiet, and after putting their account-books in order and making an inventory, they formally made over the castle to the officers on the nineteenth in the grand hall of the castle. The retainers then all dispersed and became ronin.

It will be seen that the incidents in the fourth act of the play have no foundation in fact beyond the suicide of Takumi-no-Kami. It is only important as introducing Yuranosuke, the hero of the play, and showing the great confidence placed in him by both his lord and his fellow-retainers.

PREPARATIONS FOR THE REVENGE.

Thus, the retainers of the clan lost their stipends upon the ruin of their lord’s house and became ronin. Oishi Kuranosuke began to make preparations for the revenge, and at the same time made every effort to bring about the restoration of his lord’s house. When he found all his efforts were unavailing and the Government refused to restore the forfeited domain and title to Takumi-no-Kami’s younger brother, he decided definitely to take revenge upon Kozuke-no-Suke. Such of the late retainers as were filled with great loyalty gradually formed a league; and Kira Kozuke-no-Suke, too, took strict measures to provide against sudden attacks and sent spies and detectives to watch the movements of the loyal retainers. The retainers, also, underwent untold hardships in their efforts to inform themselves of their enemy's condition. Many of them separated from their families and engaged themselves to tradesmen or became artisans, and so disguising themselves, obtained entry into Kira’s mansion. In the meantime, several of the retainers lukewarm in their loyalty left the league one by one until the forty-seven men of matchless fidelity were left behind to carry out their plot amid almost insuperable difficulties.

Oishi placed under the care of his maternal uncle, Ishizuka, at Toyooka, in Tajima Province, his wife and four children, the eldest of whom was Matsunojo, afterwards known as Chikara Yoshikane (called Rikiya in the play), then in his fourteenth year. For a while he lay concealed in a neighbouring village; but towards the close of the sixth month, he left his native province and arrived in the following month at Yamashina, a village lying east of Kyoto, to which he brought his wife and children, and made it look as if he intended to settle permanently in that place. He received offers to take him into service from great daimyo like Nabeshima of Hizen and Hosokawa of Higo, and from other lords; but he declined them, one and all. And to show that he had no intention of re-entering service, he purchased a house and land at Yamashina, and brought carpenters and plasterers from Kyoto to build a retreat within the grounds, while he himself took pleasure in rearing tree-peonies in his garden. It looked quite as if he would in course of time make over the headship of the house to his son Matsunojo and retire into his retreat, there to pass the remainder of his life in admiring the beauties of nature. He was all the while waiting for the opportunity to carry out his plot.

Meanwhile, Kira still kept strict guard. No one was taken into service in his mansion without careful inquiry into his antecedents; and from retainers and sandal-carriers even to common servants, no one but a native of Kira’s domain was engaged except in unavoidable cases. Tradesmen were strictly forbidden to enter the premises and the gate-keepers were required to examine carefully all who came to the mansion. And at the same time Oishi’s movements at Yamashina were carefully watched.

Now, Oishi determined to throw the enemy completely off the scent by leading a dissolute life and pretending that he had given up the revenge in despair. He took to pleasures against his inclination; he became a noted profligate. He frequented the pleasures-quarters of Kyoto and Fushimi and then, those of Osaka. Ronin as he was, he had been the chief retainer of Ako; and he seemed to have inexhaustible supply of money, which he spent with lavish liberality and became notorious for his dissipation in Kyoto and elsewhere. His confederates, too, decided to show to the world how dissolute they had grown in their despair, and vied with their chief in profligacy. And while these loyal retainers pretended to the world that they had given themselves up utterly to debauchery, their leaders held consultations in these pleasure-quarters and matured their plan amid the revelry of their comrades.

The dissolute life, which Oishi was now leading, exposed him to the abuse of the world, which condemned him for apparently sinking into dissipation, forgetful of his lord’s death. Next, Oishi sent away his family with whom he had lived in great affection. He did this, partly to show that he had no thought beyond his pleasures and partly to prepare for the revenge. According to the law in those days, for a serious crime not only the offender himself, but also his family, were punished; and he feared that his wife and children might suffer from his act. He, therefore, divorced his wife, who went away with their three youngest children. He became more dissolute than ever. He brought to his house a woman named Okaru, who was noted throughout Kyoto for her beauty and made her his mistress. Kira’s spies grew weary of watching him and became less vigilant. Meanwhile, the retainers’ plan matured, and finally Oishi left Yamashina in the tenth month for Yedo, where he arrived early in the following month.

The above furnishes the material for the seventh and ninth acts of the play. Oishi’s mistress, Okaru, appears in the play as Hayano Kanpei’s wife and Teraoka Heiyemon’s sister, and so connects her story with the death of Kanpei in the sixth act and with the night-attack in the eleventh. It makes her of more interest than if she only remained a mistress whom Oishi brought home to conceal his true designs. The seventh act also reveals Oishi as a man of great loyalty, who conceals his plot under cover of dissipation. It is an act which shows him in his true character and one that calls for fine acting on the part of the player who assumes the role of the hero.

THE SUICIDE OF SANPEI.

All the loyal retainers, after their great hardships and perseverance, succeeded in carrying out their object at last; but there was one who died before the revenge was taken. His name was Kayano Sanpei Shigezane, who appears in the play as Hayano Kanpei. He was the second son of Kayano Shigetoshi, a retainer of Oshima Dewa-no-Kami; and when he was twelve years old, he was, at Dewa-no-Kami’s recommendation, taken into Takumi-no-Kami’s service as page. When Takumi-no-Kami was condemned to death for the attack in the Palace, Sanpei was in the mansion in Yedo; and immediately the sentence was passed, he left with another retainer for Ako, where he arrived in four days and a half and reported to Oishi. After the surrender of the castle and dispersal of the retainers, Sanpei returned to his native village to mourn for his mother who had lately died. As his village was only about thirty miles from Yamashina, he went often to see Oishi and consulted him on the revenge. In the following winter, he ashed his father’s permission to proceed to Yedo and seek a new situation; but his father refused as he was sure, he said, that Sanpei was going to take revenge upon his lord’s enemy, and added that such an act on Sanpei’s part might implicate not only his own family, but even bring trouble upon Oshima Dewa-no-Kami, which he could not allow as he was no less loyal to his lord than Sanpei was to his. Then, Sanpei asked him to sever their relation of father and son; but this also his father refused, saying that nothing worthy could be done by one who cut off natural ties. Sanpei could do nothing; and seeing that he could not revenge his lord’s death, he resolved to die and apologise to his lord in the other world. On the fourteenth of the first month in the following year, he sent a letter to Oishi and before daybreak next day, he killed himself while the family were asleep. His father, fearing that the Ako retainers’ plot would be discovered if his son’s death became known, had his body secretly buried in a neighbouring hill. Sanpei was twenty-six years old at the time of his death. He was perhaps over-hasty in rushing to his death; but the principles of Bushido left him no choice; a man of knightly spirit could do nothing but die under the circumstances.

In their eagerness to enlist the sympathy of their audience, the authors of the play have brought love-interest into his story and weakened his character by attributing to him an act of disloyalty. Still, his failure in duty in the third act for the love of a woman was necessary for showing his deep repentance in the fifth act and its incidental consequences, the sale of his wife and his tragic end in the sixth, which lend peculiar pathos to Okaru’s story in the seventh act.

AMANOYA RIHEI.

Amanoya Rihei was a merchant of Osaka, whose family had for generations enjoyed the patronage of the lord of Ako. When the loyal retainers held council after their lord’s death, Rihei hied to Ako to offer his services. And when they had formed the plan for the revenge, they kept it strictly secret from all except Rihei; and later Oishi secretly asked Rihei to procure all the weapons and other implements that were needed for the night-attack. The retainers lay concealed in Kyoto, Osaka, and Yedo; and Rihei in Osaka, went himself, without the knowledge of his family and servants, to different shops and works to have the necessary weapons made, and as soon as they were ready, he forwarded them to Yedo. One of the smiths reported to the authorities that he had received an order for a special description of weapons; and Rihei was soon after arrested and examined. Rihei replied that the weapons of the special make had been invented by a certain samurai; and other smiths, upon hearing of Rihei’s arrest, also reported that they had received orders from him. Rihei was, then, put to the torture; but still he would not tell the truth. His wife and children were also tortured; but they all answered that they knew nothing. Rihei told the prison officers that his family knew nothing of his purchases and begged them to torture him instead of his family. He was then put to such tortures that he was more than once on the point of death. He told the officers that he had from the first been prepared for death when he entered upon the undertaking, but that when the new year came, he would confess all or submit to any punishment they might inflict. He spoke with such composure that they took his word and refrained from further tortures. When the new year came, the revenge of the Ako retainers was everywhere talked of; and when Rihei heard of it in prison, he went up to the officers and confessed that as his family had for generations enjoyed the patronage of the lord of Ako, he had been asked by Oishi to procure the weapons for their night-attack upon Kira’s mansion, and it was for that revenge that he had ordered the smiths to make weapons for him, and now that the revenge had been successfully carried out, the time had come for him to receive his just punishment; and he added that from fear of the plot being discovered and of the punishment for his offence being extended to innocent persons, he had concealed it from his family, and he therefore begged that his family might be spared while he himself would willingly submit to the severest punishment. The officers were greatly struck by his manly spirit and released him. They restored to his son Rihei’s property which they had confiscated and made him follow his father’s trade. Rihei himself renounced the world and peacefully ended his days in a temple closely connected with the Asano family.

All the other incidents of the play, such as the story of Kanpei and Okaru, the marriage of Konami and Rikiya, and the death of Honzo, are more or less connected with the main plot of the play; but the story of Amanoya Rihei, who appears in the play under the name of Amakawaya Gihei, is the least connected. The tenth act was written to exhibit the manly spirit of a merchant and to show that even among the mercantile class were men who could help the retainers in their great undertaking. Amanoya Rihei was, in fact, a fine example of the otokodate, to whom reference has been made in a former page, and his character, as it appears in the play, has been the boast of his class. It is a vindication of the commoners by writers who belonged to that class.

THE REVENGE.

The loyal retainers willingly submitted to every hardship and privation in their efforts to carry out their long-cherished plan of revenge. The league which was originally composed of more than a hundred persons, gradually dwindled by defection to less than half the number, and made more onerous the labours of the loyal men. Some of them became doctors, others taught fencing and similar arts, and others again turned rice-dealers and merchants; but they devoted all their energies, so far as they could do so without arousing suspicion, to watching the enemy’s movements and keeping in communication with one another. The labour and trouble they took to obtain information regarding the interior of Kira’s mansion was such as would hardly be believed in these days. One of them who was versed in the art of tea-making, obtained news from time to time of the goings-on in the enemy’s mansion from a professor of that art who was patronised by Kira. He ascertained from him that there was to be a tea-party at the mansion on the fourteenth day of the twelfth month of the fifteenth year of Genroku (which corresponded to the 20th January, 1703), On that night, then, their enemy was sure to be at home; and the retainers decided to carry out their long-planned scheme early the following morning. From about two o’clock they began to gather at their trysting-place; and at about four o’clock they all arrived in the snow under a clear moonlight in front of Kira’s mansion. Here they divided into two companies; one under Oishi made for the front gate and the other under Yoshida Chuzaemon for the back gate on the west side. They entered the mansion and making the capture of their enemy Kira their sole object, they only cut down those who offered resistance. They searched the whole mansion for him, but apparently without success. They feared that he had escaped them; but one of them, hearing a man’s voice in a shed near the kitchen, went in and dragged him out and found he was the enemy they had undergone so many hardships to seize. They cut off his head. Then, they marched out in order without losing a single man. It was about six o’clock, so that the fight had lasted two hours.

The eleventh act merely serves to bring the story to a conclusion. The true climax would have been the suicide of the loyal retainers; but it was doubtless felt by the authors that they would give the greatest satisfaction to the sympathetic audience by ending the play when the loyal men were at the height of their joy after accomplishing their long-cherished object.

THE CONCLUSION.

Although the story of the famous vendetta in the play concludes with the departure of the retainers from the mansion with their enemy’s head, we may, to complete the story, here give a brief account of the subsequent events.

The loyal retainers of Ako marched in order through the city and arrived at the temple of Sengakuji, their lord’s burial-place, in the south of Yedo. There they washed Kira’s bloody head and placing it in front of their lord’s grave, reported as to a living person all the circumstances of the revenge. Oishi sent two of his men to the Chief Censor, Sengoku Hoki-no-Kami, to report their late attack, while a similar report was made by the superior of the temple to Abe Hida-no-Kami, the Commissioner of Temples and Shrines; and both these officers went to the Shogun’s palace to report the matter. Officers were then sent to inspect Kira’s mansion to verify the report. Universal sympathy was expressed for the retainers; and pending the decision of their case, they were given in charge, seventeen to Hosokawa Etchu-no-Kami, Lord of Higo, ten each to Mori Kai-no-Kami, Lord of Chofu and Hisamatsu Oki-no-Kami, Lord of Matsuyama, and nine to Mizuno Kenmotsu, Lord of Okazaki. All these daimyo received them into their mansions with willingness and treated them with great consideration. It will be seen that the number of retainers taken charge of by these daimyo was forty-six, because one of them, Terasaka Kichiemon, the Teraoka Heiyemon of the play, was sent immediately after the attack to report to Takumi-no-Kami’s widow, and his name did not appear in the report made by Oishi to the Chief Censor.

The fate of the brave retainers became the burning question of the day. Opinion was divided among the scholars and government officials on the way they should be treated. Some were for pardoning them as vendetta was permitted by the state, while others advocated that as they had broken the law of the land from private motives, they should be condemned to death and that an order to commit suicide would show that their great loyalty was duly appreciated since they were not to be beheaded like common criminals. Finally, on the fourth of the second month of the following year (10th March, 1703), they committed seppuku by order in the mansions of the respective daimyo who had them in charge, and were buried at Sengakuji beside the tomb of their lord whom they had served so well.

[ [1] A high officer versed in Court etiquette. The office was hereditary.

ACT I.

CHUSHINGURA

忠臣藏

ACT I.

RECITATIVE.

Though there may be delicate food, we cannot relish it unless we taste it, and so, when peace has been restored, the loyalty and valour of gallant warriors remain unrevealed, like the stars which are hidden from view by day, but appear at night scattered through the heavens. And here is an instance in point.

Now peace reigns over the land. It is the latter part of the second month of the first year of the Era Ryaku-o.[1] The Lord Shogun Ashikaga Takauji[2] has overthrown Nitta Yoshisada[3] and has built a palace in Kyoto. His virtuous rule has spread in all directions and the whole nation bows before his might as

the grass before the wind. In the glory of his power, he has raised a Shrine to Hachiman at Tsurugaoka, which being completed, his younger brother, Lord Ashikaga Sahyoe-no-Kami Tadayoshi, has arrived at Kamakura as his deputy to celebrate its opening. Kono Musashi-no-Kami Moronao, Governor of Kamakura, haughty and overweening, and the officers appointed to receive the noble guest, Wakasanosuke Yasuchika, the younger brother of Momonoi Harima-no-Kami, and Enya Hangwan Takasada, Lord of Hakushu, they all sit in state in the curtained front of the Shrine.

Yoshitada. How now, Moronao? In this box is laid the helmet bestowed by the Emperor Godaigo[4] upon Nitta Yoshisada, who was lately overthrown by my brother Takauji. Enemy as he was, still Yoshisada was a lineal descendant of the Seiwa Genji[5]; and the helmet, though it was thrown away, cannot be left unheeded. And my brother commands us to place it in the treasure-house of this Shrine.

Moronao. I am surprised at my lord’s words. If we must respect Nitta’s helmet because he was a descendant of the Emperor Seiwa, there are many daimyo and shomyo [6] under my lord’s standard who are of the Seiwa Genji line. I think it not well to treasure the helmet.

Wakasanosuke. Nay, I do not agree with you. It seems to me that this is a stratagem of my Lord Takauji to strike those adherents of Nitta who have escaped death with admiration at His Highness’s benevolent virtue and make them surrender of their own accord. You are overhasty in opposing it.

Moronao. You are presumptuous to call me overhasty. When Yoshisada died in battle, forty-seven helmets lay scattered around his corse. We do not know which of them was his; and if we treasure what we believe to have been his and afterwards find that it was the wrong one, great will be our shame. We have no need for the opinion of a stripling like you; keep your distance.

Recitative. Secure in his lord’s favour, he speaks with arrogance, and Wakasanosuke glares at him with angry eyes. Enya sees his look.

Hangwan. Though there is truth in my Lord Moronao’s words, still what Lord Momonoi says is a stratagem which we should employ in time of peace. We submit, then, to the wise decision of my Lord Tadayoshi, who is great both in war and peace.

Recitative. Tadayoshi looks pleased.

Tadayoshi. As I thought you would say so, I have summoned for the purpose Enya’s wife. Call her forth.

Recitative. Soon after the order is given, appears Kaoyo, the wife of Lord Enya, bare-footed on the sand of the approach to the Shrine; the skirt of her over-dress sweeps the ground like the sacred broom of the Shrine; lightly powdered and beautiful as a jewel, she bows to the ground at a distance. Moronao, a lover of women, calls out to her.

Moronao. My Lord Enya’s consort, Lady Kaoyo, you must be fatigued with waiting so long. His Highness has summoned you; pray, come nearer.

Tadayoshi. I have summoned you for this. As the Emperor Godaigo bestowed on Yoshisada the helmet His Majesty wore in the capital during the war of the Genko Era[7], we have no doubt that Nitta donned it in his last hour. But no one here can identify it. You, I have heard, were at the time one of the twelve maids of honour and were in charge of the armoury. You, surely, must know the helmet; and if you remember it, come, identify it.

Recitative. To a woman he gives his order gently; and softly she answers.

Kaoyo. Gracious is my lord’s command. His Majesty’s helmet have I held in my hands many a night and morning. It was bestowed upon Yoshisada, together with a rare incense called Ranjatai. It was I, Kaoyo, who handed it to him. Upon receiving the gift, he said, “Man lives for only one generation, but his name endures for ever. When I go forth to die in battle, I will, before I put on the helmet, burn all this incense in its inside so that it may leave its perfume on my hair. If, then, Your Majesty hears that the enemy has taken a rare-scented head, know that Yoshisada has fought his last.” And I do not think he has belied his word.

Recitative. Hanging upon her words, Moronao who has designs upon her, listens with dilated nostrils.

Tadayoshi. Clear indeed is Kaoyo’s answer. As I thought such would be the case, I have had the forty-seven helmets that lay scattered put in this box. Now examine them.

Recitative. At these words the attendants bend their hips and unlock the box. Impatient to see the helmets, Kaoyo approaches boldly and without fear. She sees many a noted Kamakura helmet of divers shapes. The helmet-signs differ with the fashion of the

families. Some are plain, and others are without camail for ease in bending the bow. Among these many which vary with the tastes of their wearers appears at last a five-plated helmet with a dragon-head. Before Kaoyo can say that this is the one they seek, the scent of the rare incense pervades all around.

Kaoyo. This is Yoshisada’s helmet which I have often held in my hands.

Recitative. She brings it forward, and her word is taken.

Tadayoshi. Let Enya and Momonoi place it in the treasure-house. Come this way.

Recitative. He rises, and dismissing Kaoyo, passes by the steps. Enya and Momonoi follow within. Instantly Kaoyo, also, prepares to go.

Kaoyo. Lord Moronao, you will remain a little longer, and when your arduous duties are over, you will go home; but I, who have been dismissed, must not stay longer. I take my leave.

Recitative. But as she rises, Moronao approaches and holds her by the sleeve.

Moronao. Nay, wait; I pray you, wait. I meant, as soon as my duties are over to-day, to call at your house, for I have something to show you. But Lord Tadayoshi who happily summoned you here to-day, is as a god who has brought us together. As you know, I take pleasure in composing poetry, and have asked Yoshida no Kenko[8] to be my teacher. We exchange letters daily. Here is a letter which I was going to ask him to send to you; I would gladly hear your answer from your lips.

Recitative. He slips from his sleeve to hers a letter tied in a knot. She starts when she sees it is a love-letter which is out of keeping with his aged face. But if she openly puts him to shame, her husband’s name will become common talk. Shall she take it home and show it to her husband? No, no; if Lord Enya feels resentment, a quarrel or other evil consequences may follow. So, without a word, she drops the letter on the ground. Loth to let it be seen by others, Moronao takes it up.

Moronao.

“Since her dear hand has touched it,

I cannot leave alone

This note she has rejected,

E’en though it is mine own.”

Until you give me a definite answer and a favourable, I will never cease to press my suit. Here am I, Moronao, in whose power it is to make the whole country rise or fall; and whether I kill Enya or let him live, it depends only upon Kaoyo’s will. Am I not right?

Recitative. Kaoyo can answer with naught but tears. At this moment Wakasanosuke chances to enter, and perceives at once that Moronao is, as is his wont, behaving outrageously.

Wakasanosuke. Lady Kaoyo, are you not yet gone? By remaining after you have been dismissed, you are disobeying His Highness. You had better go home at once.

Recitative. When she is thus urged to go home, Moronao sees that Wakasanosuke has guessed what he has been doing; still, he shows a brazen front and answers back.

Moronao. You are again presumptuous. When she may go, I will tell her so myself. Kaoyo, Enya’s wife, has besought me to see that her husband performs his duties without any mishap. That is as it should be. Even a daimyo’s wife acts thus. You, of low position as you are, to whom do you owe your pittance of a stipend? So precarious is your fortune that a word of mine could reduce you to beggary. And still do you call your-self a samurai?

Recitative. He abuses him in revenge for his interference. Bursting with anger, Wakasanosuke grasps the hilt of his sword with such fierce force as threatens to crush it; but he recollects that he is in front of the Shrine and in His Highness’s train, and he restrains himself; and yet, one word more, and he will cut him down. Attendants enter announcing His Highness’s return and clear the way. He is compelled to forgo his revenge for the moment; but he is bursting with indignation. Lucky in his evil course, Moronao escapes death; and Enya, who little dreams that he will be his enemy on the morrow, brings up the rear of the procession. Lord Tadayoshi walks with quiet dignity; and his stately bearing is like the dragon frontlet of the helmet which has been placed in the treasure-house of the Shrine.

[ [1]The first year corresponds roughly to 1338.

[ [2]The first Shogun of the Ashikaga line, which lasted from 1338 to 1573. Born in 1305 and died in 1358.

[ [3]A celebrated loyalist, born in 1301 and died in the Battle of Fujishima in 1338.

[ [4]Emperor Godaigo reigned from 1319 to 1338.

[ [5]Seiwa Genji: the name Minamoto, or Genji, was first bestowed upon Prince Tsunemoto, a grandson of Emperor Seiwa (856-877), when he suppressed Masakado’s rebellion in 940. The Seiwa Genji were the direct descendants of the prince, while the collateral lines were known as the Yamato, Settsu, and Kai Genji.

[ [6]Daimyo, or great names, were the great territorial lords; and Shomyo, or small names, were those immediately below them in rank.

[ [7]In this era (1331-3), the Emperor made war upon Hojo Takatoki, the last of the Kamakura Regents, who defeated and exiled him to the Island of Oki.

[ [8]One of the most noted poets of his day (1282–1350).

ACT II.

ACT II.

RECITATIVE.

It is an evening in the month of growing plants.[1] They are sweeping the grounds in the mansion of Momonoi Wakasanosuke Yasuchika. The Councillor, Kakogawa Honzo Yukikuni, who, in the mature manhood of fifty years, guards the mansion as the aged pine overlooks the garden, comes along outside the reception-room in formal dress. The servants on the ground, unaware of his presence, talk on.

First Servant. Why, Bekunai, our lord has for the last few days been making great preparations. The guest from the Capital visited the Shrine of Hachiman at Tsurugaoka yesterday. That meant tremendous expenses. Ah, I wish I had that lot of money; for if I had it, I would change my name Bekusuke[2] and enjoy myself.

Second Servant. What, change your name and enjoy yourself? that is strange! And what would you change it to?

First Servant. Why, I would change it to Kakusuke and have a fling.

Second Servant. Oh, you fool! Don’t you know? Our Lord Wakasanosuke, I hear, came to grief yesterday at Tsurugaoka. I don’t know the particulars; but it was talked about in the servants’ room that Lord Moronao put him to great shame. I suppose he said something unreasonable and humiliated our lord.

Honzo. Hi, what are you chattering so noisily about? You are talking of our lord, and that, too, when my lady is ill. If there is anything likely to bring shame upon the house, I shall not let it pass unheeded. Calamities arise from below; and servants should be discreet of tongue. When you have done sweeping, go away all of you.

Recitative. He speaks to them gently. A maid-servant brings him tobacco, which he inhales and sends up rings and clouds of smoke. In the passage he hears the rustling of a dress and scents its perfume; and softly comes out Honzo’s darling only daughter, Mistress Konami, with her mother Tonase.

Honzo. What, you two here? It is most unmannerly of you to be amusing yourselves, instead of waiting upon my lady.

Konami. Nay, father. My lady is in especially good spirits to-day and is just now fast asleep. Is it not so, mother?

Tonase. Ah, Honzo, my lady was saying something a little while ago. There appears to be a rumour that, at the time Konami went yesterday to Tsurugaoka in my lady’s place, high words passed between our lord and Lord Moronao. Somehow or other, it came to my lady’s ears and made her very uneasy. She asked if my husband Honzo, who must know all the particulars, meant to conceal it from her; and so I asked Konami, but she knew no more about it than I. If it is likely to aggravate her illness and bring shame upon the house......

Honzo. Come, come, Tonami. Why did you not make up an answer? Our lord is naturally of a hasty temper; and as to high words, they are common enough among women and children. It is the duty of our swords to put an end to our lives if this little tongue of ours makes a slip of one or half a word. Are you not a samurai’s wife? Could you not recollect yourself in such a trivial matter? Be more careful. But, daughter, when you went to worship in my lady’s place, was there not such a rumour? Or was there? What, there was not? I thought so. Why, it is nothing to speak of. Very well, I will go at once and see my lady and set her mind at ease.

Recitative. And as he rises to go, the officer on duty enters.

Officer. Master Oboshi Yuranosuke’s son, Master Oboshi Rikiya, has come.

Honzo. Ha, I suppose he comes as a messenger from Lord Hangwan to make arrangements for the entertainment of the guests. Show him in. Receive the message, Tonase, and deliver it to our lord. The messenger is Rikiya, our daughter Konami’s betrothed husband. Entertain him. I will see my lady.

Recitative. With these words he goes in; and Tonami comes close to her daughter.

Tonase. Dear Konami, your father is always stiff-mannered; but I thought he would tell you to receive the message. Instead of that, he says I am to receive it; in that he is of quite a different mind from me. You would like, I am sure, to see Rikiya and speak to him. Go and meet him in my place. What do you say, eh?

Recitation. Her mother repeats her question; but her only answer is the maiden blush that suffuses her face, and her mother surmises its meaning.

Tonase. Oh, how it hurts! My daughter, please, rub down my back.

Recitation. Konami is bewildered and assists her.

Tonase. Well, you see, my anxiety since the morning has brought on my old complaint. I do not think I can in this state meet the messenger. Oh, how it pains me! I am sorry to trouble you; but you will hear the message and entertain the messenger. There is no getting round our lord and ailments.

Recitative. She slowly gets up.

Tonase. Receive him well, daughter, but not too well, for fear you should forget the important message. I should like to see my future son-in-law; but.........

Recitative. But the lady, knowing her daughter’s feeling, goes within. Konami bows to her with gratitude.

Konami. How grateful I am, mother! How I have longed to see my betrothed!

Recitative. But when she sees him, what shall she say? And her maiden heart palpitates

with joy and expectation. Presently enters Oboshi Rikiya. Even in walking on the mat, he observes the etiquette. He is yet in his seventeenth year; his forelock stands erect; with his family crest of double-tomoe and his two swords, he looks fine and dignified. In his appearance he is worthy of his father Oboshi Yuranosuke. He sits down quietly.

Rikiya. I beg to deliver my message.

Recitative. He speaks with courtesy; and Konami suddenly lays her hands on the mat before her. They look at each other; each loves the other, but remains speechless. Their blushing faces are as one the plum-blossom and the other the cherry-flower. At last, Konami recollects herself.

Konami. Ah, you are welcome. I am ordered to hear your message; and will you give it to me direct from your lips to mine?

Recitative. And she approaches him, but he turns aside.

Rikiya. Nay, that would be discourteous. In delivering and receiving messages, etiquette is always of the first importance.

Recitative. He shuffles backward and lays his hands before him on the mat.

Rikiya. This is the message my master Enya Hangwan presents to Lord Wakasanosuke: “As we are to attend at the Palace of the Governor-General Lord Tadayoshi before daybreak to-morrow, it is believed that the guests also will arrive early. Lord Moronao has therefore ordered that Hangwan and Wakasanosuke should present themselves at the Palace without fail at the seventh hour[3]. And to provide against all chance of a mistake arising, my master Hangwan has sent me with the message. You will please, then, report to this effect to my Lord Wakasanosuke.”

Recitative. His words flow so smoothly that Konami gazes at his face in fascination and gives no answer.

Wakasanosuke. I have heard your message; and I am obliged to you.

Recitative. And with these words Wakasanosuke comes in.

Wakasanosuke. Since we parted yesterday, I have not been able to see Lord Hangwan. Yes, I will present myself punctually at the seventh hour. I thank Lord Hangwan for his message; and please present to him my compliments. I am also obliged to you.

Rikiya. Then I will take my leave, my lord. I am grateful to you, lady, for receiving my message.

Recitative. He stands up quietly, and without once looking back, adjusts his dress, and goes away. Immediately Honzo comes in from another room.

Honzo. Ha, are you here, my lord? I hear you must be present at the seventh hour to-morrow morning. It is close upon the ninth hour[4], and I beg you will take a rest.

Wakasanosuke. Yes, yes. But Honzo, I have something to say to you in private. Send away Konami.

Honzo. Ah, daughter, we will clap our hands when we want you. And so go in.

Recitative. He sends away his daughter. And wondering at his lord’s strange look, he comes close to him.

Honzo. I have been wanting to ask you, my lord, for some time; now I beg you to tell me all.

Recitative. As he comes still closer, his lord also shuffles towards him.

Wakasanosuke. Honzo, now let me hear your solemn oath that you will absolutely submit to what I am going to tell you.

Honzo. Your words are indeed solemn, my lord. Well, I will submit; but..........

Wakasanosuke. Do you say that you cannot swear the samurai’s oath?

Honzo. No, I do not say so; but I will first hear you.

Wakasanosuke. And after hearing me, you will remonstrate, I suppose?

Honzo. No, that.........

Wakasanosuke. You disobey me? What do you say?

Recitative. Honzo bends down his head and remains speechless for a while; but

presently he comes to a determination. He draws his dirk, and then partly unsheathing his sword with the other hand, he strikes it with the dirk.[5]

Honzo. You see now Honzo’s spirit. I will neither stop you nor divulge your secret. I beg you to say what you wish to tell me without hurry, so that I may understand it completely.

Wakasanosuke. I will tell you. The Governor-General, Lord Ashikaga Sahyoe-no-Kami Tadayoshi, has come to Kamakura to celebrate the completion of the Shrine at Tsurugaoka, and Enya Hangwan and I have been appointed to entertain him. The Shogun Takauji has also ordered that, making Kono Moronao our adviser, we should act under his instruction in all things, as he is a samurai of mature age and wide experience. Inflated with the high favour he enjoys, he has become now ten times more arrogant than before. And in the presence of the samurai from the Capital, he took advantage of my youth to abuse and revile me. Often I thought to cut him in two; but as often I bethought me of the Shogun’s order and restrained myself. But to-morrow I will bear it no longer; I will put him to shame in His Highness’s presence and then cut him down. Be sure not to stop me. Both my wife and you have oftentimes remonstrated with me for my hasty temper; and I know well my defect. But think of my spirit, often as I have been humiliated. I am not unmindful that my act will ruin my house and plunge my wife into deepest grief; but it is the duty of my sword which I cannot shirk without punishment from the God of War. Even if I cannot die fighting in battle, for the benefit I shall confer upon the country by slaying Moronao I will bear the shame upon my house. I tell you all this because I know the world will surely think of me as one who lost his life by his hasty temper, and as a reckless fellow readily wrought upon by passions.

Recitative. He weeps with deep despair, and he is rent to his heart’s core. Honzo claps his hands with admiration.

Honzo. Well done, well done. I thank you, my lord, for your words. You have borne with great patience. If I had been in your place, I should not have borne so long.

Wakasanosuke. What do you say, Honzo? That I have borne so long, that I have been patient? Are you jeering at me?

Honzo. I did not think to hear that from my lord. It is a saying among townspeople that if we keep to the shade in winter and to sunshine in summer, we shall not run the risk of a quarrel or a fight in the streets; but the samurai walks straight on, and though I may be wrong, I should say that if once we gave up the road to another, there would be no end to his arrogance. I will show you that I have no intention of remonstrating with you.

Recitative. He draws a dirk, and slipping a foot into a sandal, he swiftly cuts off at a stroke a branch of a pine in front of the verandah. Quickly he sheathes the blade.

Honzo. There, my lord. Cut him down as surely as I have cut this.

Wakasanosuke. Yes, I will; but we may be overheard.

Recitative. They look around.

Honzo. It is still the ninth hour. Take a full rest; and I will set the alarm-clock. Go at once, my lord.

Wakasanosuke. I am pleased with the way you have listened to me. I will now go to my wife and see her without letting her know it is my last farewell. Then I shall never see you again.

Honzo. Farewell, my lord.

Recitative. With these words Wakasanosuke goes within. All-powerful is the samurai’s spirit. Honzo looks at him as he goes in, and then runs to the servants’ entrance, and calls out.

Honzo. Let my servants bring here my horse this minute.

Recitative. Immediately the horse, bravely arrayed, is brought into the ground and Honzo leaps upon it from the verandah.

Honzo. To Moronao’s mansion. Let my servants follow me.

Recitative. As he rides out, Tonase and Konami rush in and catch hold of the bridle.

Tonase. Where are you going? Tell us. We have heard it all. You, Honzo, old as you are, did not remonstrate with our lord. We cannot understand it and will stop you.

Recitative. The mother and daughter hang on to the bridle and stop him.

Honzo. You are too meddlesome. It is because I hold precious our master’s life and house that I do this. Be sure you say nothing to him; for if he hears of it from you, my daughter I will disown and Tonase I will divorce. Now, servants, I will give you orders on the road. Get out of my way, both of you.

Tonase and Konami. No, no, we will not.

Honzo. How troublesome you are!

Recitative. He kicks them both with his stirrups, and fainting, they fall on their backs. He does not look at them; but telling his servants to follow, he urges his horse and gallops out of sight.

[ [1]Refers to the third month of the lunar year, which corresponds roughly to April.

[ [2]A common servant’s name, which the man wishes to change for a better-sounding one.

[ [3]About four o’clock.

[ [4]Twelve o’clock.

[ [5]The samurai’s manner of taking an oath.

ACT III.

ACT III.

RECITATIVE.

Magnificent is the Palace which Lord Ashikaga Sahyoe-no-Kami Tadayoshi has newly built upon becoming the Governor-General of the Eight Eastern Provinces; the daimyo and the shomyo in their fine court dresses are arrayed as brightly as the stars at night on the hills of Kamakura. For the entertainment the no-performers[1] enter by the back-gate and the guests by the front. The officers for serving the banquet come to the palace at the seventh hour. Dazzling is the glory of the military families.

Now towards the West Gate, preceded by servants lighting his way with a lantern, comes Musashi-no-Kami Kono Moronao with a dignified gait. His air is haughty and overbearing; dressed in a blue garment with large crests, he wears an eboshi[2] which stands up as proud as himself. He has left his attendants at the offices on the way; and only a few servants walk before him. Behind him, with perked-up shoulders, struts Sagisaka Bannai, aping his master’s haughty demeanour.

Bannai. Please your lordship. You are in high favour to-day. Men like Enya and Momonoi may be proud enough at other times; but when it comes to etiquette and ceremony, they look as foolish as a puppy thrown upon a roof. Why, it makes my sides ache with laughter to see them. By the bye, I hear that Enya’s wife, Lady Kaoyo, has not yet given an answer to my lord. Do not take it to heart. She is fair, but I do not fancy her. What, between a fellow like Enya and the most powerful Lord Moronao..........

Moronao. Hush, do not talk so loud. Kaoyo remains faithful, and although I have often, on the pretence of teaching her poetry, pressed my suit, she will not consent. I hear that among her serving-women is a new maid, Karu by name; and I mean to coax her into taking my part. Oh, there is still hope. If Kaoyo really dislikes me, she would tell everything to Enya. But she has not, and I do not despair.

Recitative. While the master and servant are nodding and talking to each other in the shadow of the four-legged gate, a samurai on guard at the gate rushes in.

Samurai. We were sitting on the bench at the gate when Kakogawa Honzo, a retainer of Momonoi Wakasanosuke, came and said that as he desired to see Lord Moronao personally, he had gone to his mansion on horseback; but he found my lord had already left for the Palace. He has come with many servants and desires most earnestly to see my lord. What answer shall I give?

Bannai. It is presumptuous of him to desire a personal interview with Lord Moronao who is so busy to-day. I will see him.

Moronao. Wait, wait, Bannai. I see it all. In revenge for what I did to him the day before yesterday at Tsurugaoka, Wakasanosuke has, while keeping himself in the background, sent this fellow Honzo to humiliate me. Ha, ha, ha. Take care, Bannai. It is still before the seventh hour. Call him here. I will settle him.

Bannai. Yes, I see. Now, servants, be prepared.

Recitative. Bannai and the servants wet the rivets of their swords to prepare for a fight. At a word from Moronao, Kakogawa Honzo quietly enters. He makes his servants lay before Moronao the presents which they have brought; and retiring afar, he crouches on the ground.

Honzo. I take the liberty to address Lord Moronao. My master Wakasanosuke counts it a knightly honour beyond his desert that he should be appointed to a great office by the Shogun Takauji. We are anxious as Wakasanosuke, being still young, knows nothing of etiquette; but since Lord Moronao has condescended to instruct and guide him in all things, he has been able to discharge his duties without mishap. This is due to no merit on the part of my master, but is entirely owing to Lord Moronao’s kindness; and it has given unspeakable joy to my master, his wife, and the whole house. If, therefore, my lord will, as a slight token of our gratitude, deign to accept a few presents from our house, we shall feel most highly honoured. Pray, present the list to my lord.

Recitative. As he hands the list, Bannai takes it shyly and opens it with a perplexed look.

Bannai. (reads). “List of presents. Thirty rolls of cloth and thirty pieces of gold, from the wife of Wakasanosuke; twenty pieces of gold, from Kakogawa Honzo; ten pieces of gold, from the samurai of the house.”

Recitative. When Bannai has read out the list, Moronao remains open-mouthed and entranced. The two exchange glances and stare blankly around them; they look as foolish and awkward as disappointed merrymakers when the summer festivals have been postponed. Suddenly, Moronao speaks out.

Moronao. This is really most kind of you. What had we better do, Bannai?

Bannai. Well, if we were to decline the presents, we should be acting against their wishes, and above all, it would be a great breach of manners.

Moronao. Ah, though I teach etiquette, I do not know what to do in a case like this. Oh, what was I going to say? Well, Master Honzo, there is nothing really to teach. Besides, Lord Wakasanosuke is so clever that I, his teacher, am left far behind. Hi, Bannai, put away the presents. It is impolite of me, but on the road I cannot even offer you a cup of tea.

Recitative. Seeing this sudden change of front, Honzo feels that his plan has succeeded; but still he keeps his hands on the ground.

Honzo. It is now the seventh hour, and I will take my leave. To-day, the most important ceremony takes place in the Palace; and I humbly entreat my lord to honour my master with his guidance.

Recitative. As he rises, Moronao holds him by the sleeve.

Moronao. Do not go. Would you not like to see the nobles sitting around in the hall to-day?

Honzo. But it would be most disrespectful to His Highness for one of my low rank to.......