Chiushingura (1880)/Book 4

n accordance with the sentence of seclusion pronounced against Yenya Hanguwan, that nobleman was strictly confined in his mansion of Ogiga-yatsu, all communication with which was rigorously prohibited. While things were thus, the ladies of the household in the inner apartments passed the time in all manner of elegant diversions. One day, shortly after the event mentioned in the Third Book, young Rikiya was in attendance upon the Lady Kawoyo, and in the hope of cheering his lord had brought a basketful of rare eight and nine-fold wild-cherry blossoms, gathered upon the hills around Kamakura; himself more pleasing for the eyes to dwell upon than the flowers themselves. Presently Hara Goyemon, the chief of the retainers, passing under the verandah in front of the willow-room,^[1] followed by Ono Kudaiu, approached the son of Yuranosuke.

​“Ho there, young sir,” cried the chief of the retainers, “you are eatly in your attendance.”

“It is my duty, as you know, sir,” replied Rikiya, “to be at hand from morn till night until my father returns from the provinces.”

“And well you perform that duty.” So saying, Goyemon prostrated himself, and addressing Lady Kawoyo, exclaimed, “We venture to inquire after our lord’s health.”

“I thank you heartily, gentlemen,” said the wife of Yenya. “Of late my lord has looked far from well, and I am in sad trouble lest some illness should declare itself. Night and morning he keeps his eye fixed upon yonder mound, now brilliant with flowers: and seems to take so much pleasure in the contemplation of their bright hues that I have caused rare cherry blossoms to be sought out, and have had them arranged as you see, in the hope of affording him some distraction.”

“Ah! lady,” cried Goyemon, “I understand your thought. As the flowers open out so will the gates be thrown open, and the order of confinement rescinded. It is well thought of. Would that your servant, Goyemon, too, were a less clumsy fellow, and could hit upon some such mode of alleviating our lord’s distress. However, lady, I would ask your attention for a moment. I have something of importance to communicate to you. I understand that commissioners are to come here to-day, and I do not doubt but that their orders are to set our lord at liberty. What do you think, Kudaiu?” turning suddenly to his companion.

“Well,” answered the latter, “if you ask my opinion, Goyemon, why—do you see those blossoms there? they are pleasant enough to look upon just now; but let a puff of wind come, and their beauty is all blown away in a moment. So too with your wards. They are pleasing enough to hear, but think you it is fitting that you, a samurahi, should utter such honeyed phrases, as devoid of meaning, if stripped of their show, as mere New Year’s compliment? You know what I mean. You know the gravity of our lord’s offence, how, honoured by His Highness with a post at Court, in connection ​with the festivities at Tsuruga-oka, he yet dared to lift his hand against the Shiuttô! Within the palace precincts too! The punishment for such a crime is banishment, if viewed leniently; if not, an order of self-dispatch. What but misfortune can be expected to result from opposition to the Lord Moronaho?”

“Enough, enough,” broke in Goyemon. “You talk of banishment and self-dispatch as if you rather desired our lord should be so punished——”

“Not so! iya!” exclaimed Kudaiu, in some haste; “I desire nothing of the kind. But I am a man of plain speech, and speak the plain truth. And let me tell you, Goyemon, that all this trouble is caused by your own parsimony. If you had but plastered Moronaho’s face with gold, things would never have come to this pass;” trying to dissimulate the mean expression of his face, that displayed so plainly his true nature.

“No, samurahi,” said Goyemon; “no one wearing the two swords of a gentleman could condescend so to grovel before any one. Rikiya will bear me out in what I say.”

Desirous of keeping matters smooth, Kawoyo interfered:—

“Pray let there be no quarrelling, gentlemen. It is I, in truth, who am the unfortunate cause of my husband’s distress; and I only. Some few days ago, at the festivities at Tsuruga-oka, Moronaho, who is an unmannerly fellow, dared to speak to me, a wedded wife, of unlawful love. Pestered by his importunity, but without saying a word to my husband, I tried to make him understand how shameful was his conduct, and how vain were his attempts, by a few lines from a well-known song which I sent to him. Enraged by my refusal, he wreaked his vengeance upon my husband by covering him with insults, and Yenya, who is of a hasty temper, at last lost command of himself, and so committed the offence for which he is now confined.”

The cause of their lord’s disturbance of mind was now plain to Goyemon and Rikiya, and their faces betrayed their concern. At this juncture the sound of voices was heard proceeding from the parlour by the entrance porch, and presently the arrival of the Commissioners was ​announced, who were demanding to be at once conducted to the inner apartments. The Lady Kawoyo upon this came down into the body of the apartment, and with Goyemon and Rikiya advanced to meet the Commissioners, who presented themselves the next moment. The Commissioners—there were two of them—were an esquire of Moronaho’s named Ishido Umanojô, and a samurahi called Yakushiji Jirôzayemon. As they were on duty they did not return the salutations offered them, but seated themselves at once at the upper end of the apartment. Hardly had they done so when a partition was moved back, and Yenya Hanguwan entered the room with dignified composure.

“Ha! Ishido dono, you come officially? I am ashamed of being the cause of so much trouble to you. Ho, there! offer saké to the gentlemen. There can be no harm in a draught to chase away bad spirits; and the purport of your visit can meanwhile be explained to me.”

“Capital!” cried Yakushiji; “I have no objection, I am sure. But,” he continued with a sneer, “if you knew the purport of our visit, I think the saké would stick in your throat.”

Ishido now said: “We are ordered to make an official communication to you, to which we demand your attention.”

So saying, the Commissioner drew a paper from his breast, and unfolded it, while Hanguwan arranged himself on his mat, and assumed an attitude of respectful attention. Ishido then read out the paper, which was to the following effect:—“Lately, Yenya Hanguwan Takasada, following the promptings of private malice, drew his weapon on the Shiuttô, the Lord Moronaho, and created a tumult within the precincts of the palace, on account of which crime his estates are hereby ordered to be confiscated, and himself is decreed to commit self-dispatch.”

As the Commissioner concluded, the Lady Kawoyo and the assembled retainers were filled with sudden terror, regarding each other with trembling amazement. Hanguwan, however, remained unmoved. Without changing a muscle of his countenance he exclaimed, quite calmly, “I understand perfectly. But now,

​gentlemen, will you not take some refreshment, one draught of saké after your labours?”

“How now, Hanguwan?” exclaimed Yakushiji. “Silence! Your crime merits decapitation like a common criminal; but His Highness, in his clemency, permits you to expiate it by self-dispatch, for which you ought to be grateful, I think. Let the usual preparations for self-dispatch be made without delay. But what means this? You are still wearing your usual long upper dress trailing behind you. Are you drunk, or have you had a stroke? You are failing in respect to the Commissioner Ishido and to myself.”

And the brute chuckled gleefully as he concluded his insolent speech.

“I am not drunk,” said the condemned nobleman, “neither have I had a stroke. As soon as I heard that a communication was to be made to me I knew what the end would be, and so I have caused everything to be prepared beforehand—as you will see.”

Throwing off his upper dress, and casting away from him both his swords as he spoke, Yenya revealed himself attired in short-sleeved white garments with a kamishimo bare of device, and completely prepared for death. A thrill of horror ran through all who were present, and even Yakushiji was unable to utter a word, silenced by the angry expression of his colleague, who, approaching the condemned man, exclaimed gently, “I can well understand your feelings, sir. My duty I must fufil; but I pray you not to be hurried in your preparations.”

“I am deeply grateful for your kindness,” said Yenya. “Ever since my attack on Moronaho,” he added in a passionate tone, “I knew this would be the result, and have therefore made ready beforehand. Through the intervention of Kakogawa Honzô, Moronaho, to my bitter disappointment escaped me at the palace; and an inextinguishable rage filled me to the very marrow of my bones. Like Kusunoki Masashige of Minatogawa—who, in his agony, still possessed with an intense longing for vengeance upon his enemy, swore that he would come to life again to have it—I, too, living or dead, will have my revenge upon Moronaho.”

​Meanwhile a confused sound of knocking in the partition resounded from the adjoining apartment, and the voices of a number of clansmen were heard clamouring for permission to look once more upon their lord’s face while in life, and begging Goyemon to obtain that favour for them. Goyemon, accordingly, asked the condemned nobleman to allow the retainers to enter.

“What is this?” cried Yenya. “Yet their request is proper enough! But they must wait until Yuranosuke returns.”

Goyemon bowed assent, and addressing himself to the clansmen, exclaimed: “You have heard our lord’s will. You cannot enter yet; not one of you.

They did not utter a word in reply, and complete silence reigned in the apartment in which they still remained assembled. Rikiya, meanwhile, at a sign from Yenya, had placed the sword with which the self-dispatch was to be accomplished, and which had been previously got ready, before his lord, who, after composedly throwing back the shoulder-folds of the kamishimo, arranged himself in a suitable position.^[2]

“And now, Sirs,” said Yenya, addressing the Commissioners; “I call upon you to be witnesses to my obedience.”

He drew a three-cornered stand towards himself as he spoke, and taking up the short sword that lay upon it, lifted it respectfully to his forehead.

“Rikiya, Rikiya.”

“My lord.”

“Yuranosuke?”

“He is not yet returned, your lordship.”

“Alas! and yet I wished so greatly to see him once more in life. There is so much to be arranged—but now——”

As he uttered the last words the unfortunate nobleman grasped the sword, point downwards, in his bow-hand, and with one movement ripped himself open.

​The Lady Kawoyo closed her eyes with horror and anguish; and with the tears streaming down her cheeks, muttered to herself a Buddhic prayer for the dying.

Presently a panel of the partition that separated the apartment where this scene was being enacted from the outer corridor, was pushed suddenly back, and Ohoboshi Yuranosuke burst into the room, followed closely by Senzaki, Yazama, and a crowd of other retainers. As soon as he saw his lord’s plight he started, and then made his obeisance.

“Hah, Yuranosuke!—you see I could not longer delay.”

“At least I am thankful that I am in time once more to look upon my lord’s face in life.”

“And I, too, am glad to see you, Yuranosuke, ere I die. You know all, doubtless. ’Tis a pitiful story enough of unsatisfied vengeance.”

“Ay, my lord, I know all. But this is not the time to dwell upon the details of what has happened. My only prayer now is, that my lord’s death may be such as befits a brave samurahi.”

“Do not fear for that,” cried Yenya, and, seizing the sword with both hands, he widened the gash he had already inflicted upon himself. Gasping for breath he continued, speaking with difficulty: “Yuranosuke—this sword—my dying gift to you—you will exact vengeance. Then stabbing himself in the throat, he threw aside the blood-stained weapon with a last effort, and Yenya Hanguwan Takasada rolled over on his face—dead.

The Lady Kawoyo and the retainers present started back in affright, closing their eyes horror-struck at the terrible sight; while their sobs and the grinding of their teeth showed the grief and rage that were in their hearts.

Yuranosuke meanwhile dragged himself^[3] close to the corpse, and grasping the fatal weapon, lifted it reverently to his forehead. Fixing his eyes earnestly on the blood-stained point, he clenched his fist ​convulsively; while in a flood of tears he gave vent to the sorrow and passion that consumed him.

The misery of his lord’s agony had penetrated to the inmost depths of his retainer’s heart,^[4] and it was at this moment that there arose in Yuranosuke’s breast those sentiments of unswerving devotedness and loyalty to his dead chief’s memory, that have made the name of Ohoboshi famous for ever.

Yakushiji, springing suddenly to his feet, exclaimed:

“Now, my masters, Hanguwan is dead and done for. You can take yourselves off. Away with you.”

“You are too hasty, Yakushiji,” said his colleague. “Yenya Hanguwan was a lord of province and castle; and proper arrangements must be made for the funeral rites. Therefore,” turning to the clansmen, “pray understand that there is no intention of driving you hurriedly away from the castle. I will myself draw up a brief report showing that I have, in the execution of my duty, witnessed the self-dispatch of your master. And now, Sir Yuranosuke,” addressing himself to the Karô,^[5] “I fully understand your distress. If I can render you any service pray do not forget to avail yourself of my assistance.”

As he concluded, the Commissioner courteously saluted the retainers of Yenya, and composedly took his departure.

“For my part I want this dead body removed, at any rate,” cried Yakushiji. “Meanwhile I will snatch some repose within yonder. Ho! Some of you, throw these fellows’ rubbish out of doors. As to Yenya’s property—and you,” turning to the clansmen, “away with you and turn into rônin^[6] as fast as you please.” Glaring fiercely round, he then strode out of the apartment. As soon as he had gone the Lady Kawoyo suddenly lifted up her voice and exclaimed in a piteous tone:—

“Alas! alas! my friends, was ever condition more distressful than ​yours! Oh! that I had said all that I wanted to say to my lord in his agony! But I did not know what to do. I was afraid of exciting the contempt of the Commissioners; and so I have forborne from speaking until now. I cannot tell you how miserable I am.” And falling upon the corpse, her grief overwhelmed her, and she burst into a flood of tears.

Yuranosuke now called to his son: “Rikiya, you will accompany our mistress, and at once convey the body of our dead master to the family burying-place at the Temple of Kômyô. I shall follow close after you, and charge myself with the ordering of the funeral ceremonies. Hori, Yazama, Odera, Hasama, and the rest of the retainers will go with you as escort.”

A norimon was immediately brought forward, and the body reverently lifted and placed within, amid the tears of all present.

Yuranosuke tried to console the Lady Kawoyo, who was beside herself with grief, while the clansmen strove each to be one of the bearers, or, at least, to accompany the corpse. At last all was ready, the more fortunate bore off their dead lord, while their comrades, who remained behind, looked wistfully after them. As these seated themselves, Kudaiu, who was amongst them, exclaimed:

“Well, Ohoboshi, the office of Karô has been hereditary in your family ever since the days of your ancestor Hachiman Rokuro. And I, too, have been accorded a place at the right hand of him whom they are bearing off yonder. But now we are all made rônin; and as we have to find food for our wives and children, why should we not lay hands upon the treasure amassed by our lord, divide it amongst ourselves, and leave the castle without further delay? For Yakushiji is sure to be offended if we stop here much longer.”

“I think quite differently from Kudaiu,” said one of the clansmen, Senzaki by name. “It seems to me that as long as our enemy, the Lord Moronaho, lives, vengeance is our care. Let us wait here until he comes to dislodge us; and die, if necessary, upon our own ground.”

​“I say, No,” cried Sadakurô, son of Kudaiu. “The notion of dying upon our own ground is a silly one. I am of the same opinion as my father, let us ransack the place, divide what we find, and then get away. That would be really sensible conduct.”

Yuranosuke quietly intervened:—“I am quite of Yagorô’s opinion. We ought, according to old custom, to slay ourselves for the sake of our dead lord. But instead of a cruel self-dispatch, would it not be better to await the force which Ashikaga may send against us, and die in resisting it with our utmost determination?”

“Yah! what say you there?” said Kudaiu. “Is that your sage counsel? What, we miserable rônin puff ourselves up with the notion of drawing bow against Ashikaga! A silly proceeding enough that would be, and one in which Kudaiu, at all events, will have no part.”

“You are right, father,” chimed in his son, “you are right. What these gentlemen propose is to me unintelligible. However, what need to prolong this discussion? It is waste of time to remain here. Let us away, father.”

“We will, we will,” replied the latter. “And you, gentlemen, remain here if you choose! It won’t be for long,” he added derisively. Kudaiu and his son then took their departure together.

“Pah!” cried Senzaki, “what a covetous wretch that Kudaiu is! The pair were anxious to beat a retreat the moment they heard us talk of resistance. Cowards! But we need not concern ourselves with them, let us prepare ourselves to meet the attack.”

“Ah! not so fast, Yagorô,” broke in Yuranosuke. “What have we against Ashikaga that we should draw bow against him? What I said just now was only to find out the real sentiment of the precious pair who have just left us. Let Yakushiji take possession of the mansion, and bitter though it be to leave this place, let us make our way to Yamashina near Miyako; there I will unfold to you my designs, and we can then arrange upon some plan of carrying them out.” The last words were hardly out of his mouth, when Yakushiji suddenly made his appearance.

​“Ho, there!” he said with a snarl, “your conference seems long enough. If the body has been removed, what do you linger here for? Leave the place at once without further delay.”

“Hah!” broke in Goyemon, “your lordship cannot wait, it would seem? Well, there are our dead lord’s arms, armour, and horse gear, look them well over and take them. Come, Sir Yuranosuke, let us withdraw.”

Yuranosuke signified his assent; and rising to their feet, their hearts heavy with the thought that they were quitting for ever the castle where for generations their ancestors, and where they themselves for so long a time, had night and day done their duty as samurahi, the retainers of Yenya slowly and reluctantly, and with many a wistful look back, passed out through the castle-gate. Hardly had they turned their faces from their old home when they found themselves confronted by Rikiya, Yazama, Odera, and Hori, who, after escorting their lord’s body to the temple of Kômyô, had hastened back to the castle.

“Ah!” exclaimed the latter simultaneously, impetuously arresting as they spoke the progress of Yuranosuke and his companions, “has the castle then been taken possession of? We thought we were to make our last stand here against the force that Ashikaga might send to expel us.”

“Not so, not so,” said Yuranosuke; “we will not die here. Look, comrades,” displaying the short sword which Yenya Hanguwan had made him a dying gift of. “With this weapon our dead lord let out his lifeblood; with this weapon he gave escape to his indignant spirit; and with this weapon will I take the head of Moronaho, and thus fulfil the last command of our lord.”

“So be it! so be it!” they all exclaimed in a loud voice.

Yakushiji from within the gate heard the gallant cry, and, noisily putting up the bars, shouted out derisively:

“Your lord’s crime against Moronaho has met with its proper reward. You are in a pretty plight now. Ha! ha!”

His satellites backed up the fellow’s sneer with loud laughs, which so enraged some of the younger samurahi of Yuranosuke’s party, that ​they would have retraced their steps, if their leader had not prevented them by reminding them of the necessity of sacrificing everything to the accomplishment of vengeance upon Moronaho. Still they could not help often glancing back with angry looks upon the castle they were leaving in the possession of Yakushiji and his crew.