NEWS FROM KWAIBA
Kwaiba was reported as ill; very ill. His friends and dependents who had
to pay visits of condolence, spoke of this illness with awe and terror.
To understand what follows something must be said of the past of this
man. The actor, drawing on the presumed knowledge of his audience as to
the story in the gross, can pass this over with a speech or two; a
horror-struck gesture and allusion. Not so the _ko[u]dan_ writer, who
perforce must lay before his reader all the _minutiæ_ of the case.
Ito[u] Kwaiba did not brag when he spoke of his beauty as a boy, his
handsome figure as a young man. These had brought him wealth and
position; gained, it was whispered, in vilest service to his lord. In
these days he had in his employ a _chu[u]gen_ named Isuké, or as some
say Kohei. Engaged before the mirror Kwaiba was applying the paint and
powder which of late had become necessary adjuncts to fit him to appear
before his lord. A gesture of pain and discomfiture, and then Kwaiba
turned irritably toward his satellite. "Isuké, you are a clever fellow.
Kwaiba has needed no aids to his looks--up to recent days. Now paint and
powder, all the armoury of a woman, or paraphernalia of an actor, hardly
avail to conceal the blotches which disfigure Kwaiba's face and body.
The voice broken and husky, the lightning pains in limbs and joints,
these violet patches--in such state it soon will be impossible to act as
attendant on his lordship's household service, as _kami-yakunin_. What
disorder eats into the life and happiness of Kwaiba?"
For a time Isuké made no answer, beyond a bow at his master's
acknowledgment of his cleverness, and in which he heartily concurred. He
seemed engaged in a close contemplation of the end of his nose. "Hei!
Hei!" It was all that Kwaiba could get out of him for the moment. Then
noting the growing anger Isuké began with--"Condescend beforehand to
pardon this Isuké. Though the anger of the Wakadono (young lord) is hard
to bear, yet a faithful servitor should speak. Deign to step this way."
He conducted Kwaiba to one of those small retired rooms, opening on an
inner garden and common to every properly built house of any size in
Nippon. He closed the few rain-doors, shutting out the light. Then
fetching a piece of camphor, he set fire to it. When the thick yellow
light flared strongly he took up a hand-mirror and passed it to Kwaiba.
Kwaiba was frightened at what he saw. His face was dark as that of a
peasant of Satsuma. Said Isuké--"The darkness is shown up by the light
of the burning camphor. The colour is due to the poison circulating
between the body and the outer skin. The white sunlight does not show up
this symptom. But there is another test." Lighting a candle, he took a
long steel _kanzashi_ needle and heated it to redness. Holding the cold
end by his head towel he grasped the arm of Kwaiba. The latter drew
back, afraid. "Nay, it will give no pain," said Isuké. He thrust the hot
length of the needle several inches under the skin. As far as Kwaiba was
concerned he might as well have thrust it into the straw matting
(_tatami_) at his feet. Isuké withdrew the needle and carefully pressed
the arm. A brownish liquor oozed out; not blood. "The Danna has a
nose--as yet." Kwaiba hastily applied his arm to that member. He turned
his face to one side in disgust and horror--"Is this Kwaiba already dead
and rotten? In such condition all is lost. Duty no longer can be
performed. Service and income cease together. Isuké, there remains
naught but to get out the mats. Kwaiba will cut belly."
Isuké examined him carefully and quizzically. Satisfied with his
inspection, he said--"Deign to have confidence in Isuké. In former days
he was not Isuké the _chu[u]gen_. Son of a doctor of the Dutch practice
at Nagasaki; gambling, wine, women have reduced Isuké to the state of a
servant. Family and friends long since have discarded and cast him out.
The severance of relations between parent and child was formal. Isuké
owes naught of service or duty to any but his master Kwaiba. Here is his
refuge. Deign to give Isuké three silver _ryo[u]_. The disease is
curable. Trust the matter to Isuké. _Soppin_ (mercury) duly applied will
remove the poison, and with it all the disastrous symptoms. The two
hundred and thirty _tawara_ of income are enjoyed by the Wakadono.
Service can be performed; and Isuké preserves such a good master."
Flattered and frightened Kwaiba at once handed over the money. Isuké
disappeared to secure the drug necessary to the "Dutch practice." Baths
and potions, potions and baths, followed in due course. The promises of
Isuké were fulfilled. The fearful symptoms gradually were alleviated. In
the course of six months Kwaiba was himself again; his position was
assured to him. He heaved double sighs--of relief from the nightmare
which had pursued him; of anxiety at the nightmare substituted for it.
Kwaiba was a rake and a gambler. So was Isuké. The two hundred and
thirty _tawara_ of income was saved to Kwaiba--and Isuké. Not long after
the cure was thus assured Isuké disappeared. Kwaiba sighed gently, with
relief at the departure of one who knew too much of his affairs, and
with a scared feeling on losing the only "doctor" in whom he had
confidence. "These fellows come and go, like leaves on a tree. Isuké has
grown tired, and deserted. Some day he may return. This Kwaiba is a good
master." Isuké did return--in the form of a note from the Yoshiwara.
Twenty _ryo[u]_ were needed to pay his debts to pleasure and gambling.
Severely reprimanded, Isuké opened his eyes in astonishment.
"Respectfully heard and understood: has the income been reduced? But
that does not affect the share of Isuké. He keeps well within his
limit." This was the first intimation Kwaiba had of Isuké's views as to
his rôle of physician. In those days the doctor usually had the pleasure
of performance, not of payment. Moreover with the great--like
Kwaiba--performance was carried out at a distance; the pulse felt by the
vibration of a string attached to the wrist, or at best by passing the
hand under the coverlet. For a time Kwaiba's strange medical attendant
devoted himself to his more prosaic duties of _chu[u]gen_. Within ten
days his master ransomed him from a resort in Shinagawa; price, ten
_ryo[u]_. A few weeks later he was heard from at a gambler's resort in
Shinjuku. The note was peremptory--and for fifty _ryo[u]_. Kwaiba lost
all patience. Moreover, just then he held office very favourable for
bringing this matter to an issue. But he must have Isuké; and have him
in Yotsuya. As usual payment secured the presence of a repentant Isuké,
full of promises of amendment. Kwaiba smiled, used soft words; and
shortly after Isuké was confined to the jail on a trumped up charge of
theft from another _chu[u]gen_. Kwaiba, then acting as magistrate for
the district, had full power. On notification he assured Isuké of a
speedy release. This the unhappy man secured through a poisoned meal,
following a long fast. He died raving, and cursing his master. No one
heard him but his two jailers, who considered him crazy--this man of bad
record.
Years had passed, but Isuké merely lay dormant in the mind of Kwaiba.
Then came up the affair of Tamiya--the threatening curse of O'Iwa San.
Iémon's counsel lasted but over night. With soberness and morning Kwaiba
straightway showed the results of wrecked nerves and distorted
imagination. Sleepless nights he now visited on his friends by an
increasing irritability. The first few days of this state of Kwaiba were
laughable. He spoke of O'Iwa San; not freely, rather with reticence. He
made his references as of jesting expectation of her advent. Then he
passed to boisterous tricks; springing out on the maids from dark
corners or the turns in the corridors. Alarmed by these manifestations
of the old man--not entirely strange, for he was a terror to the female
element in his household--they soon noted that there was an unnatural
wildness in his amusement at their discomfiture. Now he would talk of
nothing but O'Iwa. From this hysterical mirth he passed to an hysterical
fear. Afraid of visions of the Lady of Tamiya he stayed awake at night.
To be alone appalled him. He would have others keep awake with him. He
was now at the gibbering stage. "Night in the house of Kwaiba is to be
turned into day. The day shall be the time for sleep. Lights! Lights!
More lights!" He sat surrounded by his household, until the white light
of dawn filtered through the spaces above the rain-doors. One of his
women, her hair down for washing, met him unexpectedly in the corridor.
With a howl of terror he started to flee. Then recognizing her, he flew
on her and beat her almost to a jelly in his insane rage. People began
to talk of the eccentricities of Ito[u] Kwaiba--the honoured ward head.
Barely three weeks after Iémon's visit a violent scene occurred in the
mansion of the _Kumi-gashira_. Shouts and screams, the smashing of
screens and sounds of a terrific struggle were heard in Kwaiba's room.
Kibei, who with the men preferred night for sleep, rushed in. He found
the old man standing, stark naked and alone. His attendants had fled--to
a woman. His pillow sword drawn, Kwaiba was dancing to this side and
that. "Isuké! O'Iwa! Pardon! This Kwaiba is a wicked fellow! Isuké was
poisoned by Kwaiba. O'Iwa San? Kwaiba sold her for a street whore. For
seven lives they pursue him. Ah! A merry chase! But Kwaiba deals not
with night-hawks. His game is higher. Away with the huzzy!" He had
grasped in both hands the flower vase standing in the alcove
(_tokonoma_). Kibei dodged, and catching him by a wrestler's hold, threw
him to the ground. Kakusuké, just entering, was knocked flat by the
heavy missile. Groaning, he rose, and with other servants came to the
aid of the Wakadono. Kwaiba was overpowered and guarded during the
remainder of the night.
With daylight he knew nothing of what had occurred; at least he made
no reference to it, no response to the talk of others. His fear was now
full on him. He babbled of nothing but Isuké and O'Iwa San. Now he was
incapacitated, downright ill. There was no more turning of day into
night, and _vice versa_. He was in the hands of his nurses. But to
humour him Kibei marshalled the women. Their beds were made encircling
that of Kwaiba in the midst. Kibei and Kakusuké were present. Thus they
lay in this room brilliant with its scores of lanterns, its wax lights
blazing on the lamp-stands. At the sides and in each corner were placed
the scrolls of the holy _sutra_. Kwaiba in despair sought a sleep which
would not favour him. "Some one walks in the corridor.... Namu Amida
Butsu! Namu Amida Butsu!... Kibei! Kibei!" The appeal to the man would
bring quicker response than that to the Buddha. Indeed there was a
sound, as of hair rubbing across the paper screens, of some one or
something trying to peer through the opaque material. There was a rattle
and dash of rain. A gust swept through the corridor, the _sho[u]ji_
slightly parted. Kwaiba gave a shriek--"O'Iwa! O'Iwa San! Ah! The
bloated face, the drooping eyelid, the corpse taint in the air. It
catches Kwaiba's throat. O'Iwa the O'Baké would force away Kwaiba the
living. Ha! Ha!" A stronger gust, and the _sho[u]ji_ dislodged from its
groove whirled round and fell noisily into the room. Terror gave
strength to the sick man. Kwaiba sprang madly forward. It was horrible
to see the ghastly renovation of this tottering, flabby, emaciated man,
who yet inspired the fear of a maniac's reckless strength. The
frightened women huddled and crouched in the now darkened room, lit but
by a single _andon_ near the alcove. Was Kwaiba mad? As the men fought
over the ruins of the _sho[u]ji_, in the darkness of the corridor, at
first faint as a mist, then distinctly seen, the women were assured of
the presence of O'Iwa. In long black robe, face wide and bloated, of a
livid greenish tint, hair in wild disorder, bulging forehead, swollen
eyeless lids, she stood over the struggling men. Suddenly she thrust the
severed head she carried into the face of Kwaiba, leering horribly at
him the while. With a yell he fell flat on his back. The braver entered
with lights. All gathered round the unconscious Kwaiba.
This scene was the crisis of his disorder. The disease, once dormant,
now fell on him suddenly and with full force. Perhaps these mental
symptoms were its first indication. More annoying to his comfort, ulcers
broke out all over his body. The itching drove the man nearly frantic.
His mad scratching spread the sores. The boils developed. They ran with
pus. So terrible was the stench that few would stay by him. The women
fled the room in terror, driven away by the running stream of physical
corruption, the continual babble of lewdness from the corrupt mind. He
soon noted their absence. Kibei, attended by the sturdy and faithful
Kakusuké, remained to nurse him. Suddenly said Kwaiba--"O'Hana, the
harlot of Reigan; this Kwaiba would have talk and dalliance with her.
Summon her hither. Let wine and the _samisen_ be brought, a feast
prepared. O'Hana! O'Hana!" He raved so for the woman that Kibei thought
her presence would quiet him. A request was sent to the house of Iémon.
Wishing her to know nothing of the affair of O'Iwa, Iémon had kept
silence. He would have refused the mission--on the pretext of a quarrel
with Kwaiba and Kibei. O'Hana showed herself unexpectedly obstinate--"It
is to the favour of Kwaiba Sama that Iémon owes this Hana. She has a
duty to the past, as well as to the present." With a snarl she turned on
him, glowering. Iémon shrank back. He passed his hand across the eyes
into which O'Iwa had just looked. He no longer opposed her going.
O'Hana was still weak from repeated attacks of the fever which had
visited her ever since the night Iémon had cast forth the _aodaisho[u]_.
She said that the snake had bitten her. It was the poison, not fever,
working in her. Iémon had laughed at her proposal to try the exorcisms
of the priest. Behind the irritation aroused by his scepticism was that
peculiar clinging of a woman to an old lover, to a man with whom she had
been intimate. In the heart of O'Hana there still remained a strong
leaning to the man who had removed her from the rapid and nauseating
life of the Fukagawa brothel, which cast her into the arms of anyone who
paid the price and raised his finger. With time and the old conditions
probably she would have been as unfaithful to Iémon as she had been to
Kwaiba. The latter showing his desire, she would have answered his call.
Even before this disease-eaten swollen mass of dropsy, she showed but
temporary repugnance. Leaning over him, almost overcome by the stench,
with endearing terms she strove to rouse him to consciousness and
recognition of her. It seemed fearful to have him die without the word
of parting. Kibei aided her by raising the old man. The result was a
horrible frightened stare in eyes made large by fever and delirium. Long
he gazed at her. Said the woman--"'Tis Hana; Hana once the intimate of
Kwaiba. Deign to take courage. This is but a passing affliction. With
Hana as nurse recovery to health is assured." She laid her hands on his
shoulders. In so doing her hair, come loose, fell down around her wan
face. Kwaiba was as galvanized. With a howl the old man pushed her
violently away. "Scrawny wench! What impudence to show your face here!
Ah! To the last moment, waking and in dreams, she pursues this Kwaiba. I
sold you. 'Tis true--I sold you for a night-hawk--to Toémon of Honjo[u].
Does Kwaiba consort with wenches of such ilk?" Raising his fist he dealt
her blow after blow, all the time shouting--"O'Iwa! O'Iwa! The O'Baké
solicits Kwaiba. Broken loose from Hell and the waters of Warigesui she
would force away Kwaiba. Help! Help! Aid for Kwaiba! Away with the
O'Baké!" The old man again had broken into his mad fit. The shouts of
Kibei brought Kakusuké. Kwaiba's hands were detached from the masses of
O'Hana's hair. The wounds on her face were not so deep as those
inflicted on her mind. At last the secret was out. In bare feet she fled
along the muddy street toward the Samoncho[u] house.
It was true that the vileness of the disease, the vileness of Kwaiba's
tongue, had driven the women from attendance in the sick room to the
remotest quarters of the house. But there was a deterrent even to their
now limited service. All said the place where Kwaiba lay was haunted.
Under press of necessity a maid had brought needed medicaments to the
sick man's room. Putting down the light she carried on the _ro[u]ka_,
she pushed open the _sho[u]ji_ to enter the outer chamber. Her robe
caught as she did so.
Turning to release it she gave a fearful shriek. Standing in the
corridor, at the open screen behind her, were two tall figures robed in
black. With dishevelled hair, broad white flat faces, bulging brows,
eyelids swollen and sightless, yet they gazed through and through the
onlooker and into the farther room. One creature, even more hideous with
drooping lid and baldness extending far back, half moved, half fell
toward the frightened maid. The woman's screams now were mingled with
wild laughter. Kibei came rushing out, sword drawn, to find her in a fit
of mad hysterics. Catching the drift of her broken phrases he went out
on the _ro[u]ka_. There was no one there. _Haori_ and _kimono_, hung up
there to dry, rustled and moved a little in the draft. Had these
frightened the woman? Kakusuké carried her back to her companions.
Henceforth no one would enter that part of the building occupied by the
sick man. Kibei as son, Kakusuké the old and faithful attendant, were
isolated in their nursing.
Kibei noted the sick man's face. "Father, why the forehead so wrinkled?
Is pain condescended?" Said Kwaiba--"'Tis the rats; they gnaw and worry
at Kwaiba."--"Rats?" replied Kibei in some astonishment. He looked
around. The _sho[u]ji_ were tight closed. Kwaiba noted the inspection.
He shook his head, and pointed to the _rama-sho[u]ji_, the ornamental
open work near the ceiling. This could not be obviated. "Auntie (Obasan)
is old and deaf. She sleeps; while rats, attracted by the foul sores of
the scrofulous child, enter and attack the infant in its cradle. The
child gets thinner and weaker every day; then dies. A terrible creature
is the rat." So much for the opinion of Nippon. Kibei had brought a
mosquito net. Its edges were weighted down with heavy stones. Thus the
watchers could not be taken by surprise. Under its protection the sick
man was saved from annoyance.
Said Kibei--"This illness is most tedious. Could not Kibei go to the
Yoshiwara for a space? The letters of the Kashiku (_oiran_) accumulate.
Kibei has nothing to give, and has given no explanation for not giving.
What thinks Kakusuké?" Kakusuké was brave. Moreover he knew the Wakadono
was brave. The prospect, however, of facing his old master in a crazy
fit--and perhaps O'Iwa--had no attraction. He gave his advice--"The Go
Inkyo[u] Sama is in a very precarious state. He is now very weak. The
worst may happen at any moment. For the Wakadono to be taking his
pleasure at the Yoshiwara would arouse criticism in the ward; nay, even
more than criticism. It would be held unfilial. Deign to reconsider the
purpose." Kibei looked sourly at the swollen corruption which
represented Kwaiba--"How does he hold on! His strength must be great."
Kakusuké shrugged his shoulders--"The Go Inkyo[u] Sama will not die
easily. He has much to go through yet."--"In the name of all the _kami_
and Buddhas, how has he come to such an end? He is a sight to inspire
fear--in those who can feel such." Replied Kakusuké with sly look--"The
Go Inkyo[u] Sama has lived high, and loved beyond measure. The Wakadono
does well to reconsider his purpose."
The night was passing. The two men, worn out by the continued watching
and nursing, after vain struggle to keep awake had gone to sleep.
Kakusuké was in the room with Kwaiba. In his slumber Kibei was back in
the fencing room. The clash of the wooden swords (_bokken_), the cries
of the contestants, rang clear in his ears. He woke to find rain and
storm shaking and tearing at the _amado_. But it was the shouts of
Kakusuké, standing at the _sho[u]ji_, which had aroused him--"Danna
Sama! Danna Sama! Wakadono! At once! At once! Deign to hasten!" Kibei
rushed into the next room. In fright Kakusuké pointed to the mosquito
net. A figure stood upright within it, swaying, gesticulating,
struggling. It was a figure all black and horrible. "Un! Un!" grunted
Kwaiba. He was answered by a mincing, gnawing sound. "Father! Have
courage! Kibei is here." He rushed at the heavy stones, to toss them to
one side and enter the net. The swaying figure within suddenly toppled
over in a heap. With his sword Kibei tore and severed the cording of the
net. The black mass of rats scattered to the eight directions of space.
On approaching Kwaiba a terrible sight met the eye. Eyes, ears, nose,
chin, toes and fingers had been torn and eaten off. The lips were gnawed
away and exposed to view the grinning teeth. A feeble groan--and Kwaiba
had met his end. Neither Kibei nor Kakusuké dared to touch the foul
body. In their panic the two men looked in each other's faces. "Namu
Amida Butsu! Holy the Lord Buddha, Amida!" prayed Kibei, on his knees
before the corpse. "Namu Amida Butsu!" answered Kakusuké.[29]