[Footnote 60: The story, which also forms the subject of a play, is
published, but with altered names, in order that offence may not be
given to the Hotta family. The real names are preserved here. The
events related took place during the rule of the Shogun Iyémitsu, in
the first half of the seventeenth century.]
How true is the principle laid down by Confucius, that the benevolence
of princes is reflected in their country, while their wickedness
causes sedition and confusion!
[Illustration: THE GHOST OF SAKURA.]
In the province of Shimôsa, and the district of Sôma, Hotta Kaga no
Kami was lord of the castle of Sakura, and chief of a family which had
for generations produced famous warriors. When Kaga no Kami, who had
served in the Gorôjiu, the cabinet of the Shogun, died at the castle
of Sakura, his eldest son Kôtsuké no Suké Masanobu inherited his
estates and honours, and was appointed to a seat in the Gorôjiu; but
he was a different man from the lords who had preceded him. He treated
the farmers and peasants unjustly, imposing additional and grievous
taxes, so that the tenants on his estates were driven to the last
extremity of poverty; and although year after year, and month after
month, they prayed for mercy, and remonstrated against this injustice,
no heed was paid to them, and the people throughout the villages were
reduced to the utmost distress. Accordingly, the chiefs of the one
hundred and thirty-six villages, producing a total revenue of 40,000
kokus of rice, assembled together in council and determined
unanimously to present a petition to the Government, sealed with their
seals, stating that their repeated remonstrances had been taken no
notice of by their local authorities. Then they assembled in numbers
before the house of one of the councillors of their lord, named Ikéura
Kazuyé, in order to show the petition to him first, but even then no
notice was taken of them; so they returned home, and resolved, after
consulting together, to proceed to their lord's yashiki, or palace, at
Yedo, on the seventh day of the tenth month. It was determined, with
one accord, that one hundred and forty-three village chiefs should go
to Yedo; and the chief of the village of Iwahashi, one Sôgorô, a man
forty-eight years of age, distinguished for his ability and judgment,
ruling a district which produced a thousand kokus, stepped forward,
and said--
"This is by no means an easy matter, my masters. It certainly is of
great importance that we should forward our complaint to our lord's
palace at Yedo; but what are your plans? Have you any fixed
intentions?"
"It is, indeed, a most important matter," rejoined the others; but
they had nothing further to say. Then Sôgorô went on to say--
"We have appealed to the public office of our province, but without
avail; we have petitioned the Prince's councillors, also in vain. I
know that all that remains for us is to lay our case before our lord's
palace at Yedo; and if we go there, it is equally certain that we
shall not be listened to--on the contrary, we shall be cast into
prison. If we are not attended to here, in our own province, how much
less will the officials at Yedo care for us. We might hand our
petition into the litter of one of the Gorôjiu, in the public streets;
but, even in that case, as our lord is a member of the Gorôjiu, none
of his peers would care to examine into the rights and wrongs of our
complaint, for fear of offending him, and the man who presented the
petition in so desperate a manner would lose his life on a bootless
errand. If you have made up your minds to this, and are determined, at
all hazards, to start, then go to Yedo by all means, and bid a long
farewell to parents, children, wives, and relations. This is my
opinion."
The others all agreeing with what Sôgorô said, they determined that,
come what might, they would go to Yedo; and they settled to assemble
at the village of Funabashi on the thirteenth day of the eleventh
month.
On the appointed day all the village officers met at the place agreed
upon,--Sôgorô, the chief of the village of Iwahashi, alone being
missing; and as on the following day Sôgorô had not yet arrived, they
deputed one of their number, named Rokurobei, to inquire the reason.
Rokurobei arrived at Sôgorô's house towards four in the afternoon, and
found him warming himself quietly over his charcoal brazier, as if
nothing were the matter. The messenger, seeing this, said rather
testily--
"The chiefs of the villages are all assembled at Funabashi according
to covenant, and as you, Master Sôgorô, have not arrived, I have come
to inquire whether it is sickness or some other cause that prevents
you."
"Indeed," replied Sôgorô, "I am sorry that you should have had so much
trouble. My intention was to have set out yesterday; but I was taken
with a cholic, with which I am often troubled, and, as you may see, I
am taking care of myself; so for a day or two I shall not be able to
start. Pray be so good as to let the others know this."
Rokurobei, seeing that there was no help for it, went back to the
village of Funabashi and communicated to the others what had occurred.
They were all indignant at what they looked upon as the cowardly
defection of a man who had spoken so fairly, but resolved that the
conduct of one man should not influence the rest, and talked
themselves into the belief that the affair which they had in hand
would be easily put through; so they agreed with one accord to start
and present the petition, and, having arrived at Yedo, put up in the
street called Bakurochô. But although they tried to forward their
complaint to the various officers of their lord, no one would listen
to them; the doors were all shut in their faces, and they had to go
back to their inn, crestfallen and without success.
On the following day, being the 18th of the month, they all met
together at a tea-house in an avenue, in front of a shrine of Kwannon
Sama;[61] and having held a consultation, they determined that, as
they could hit upon no good expedient, they would again send for
Sôgorô to see whether he could devise no plan. Accordingly, on the
19th, Rokurobei and one Jiuyémon started for the village of Iwahashi
at noon, and arrived the same evening.
[Footnote 61: A Buddhist deity.]
Now the village chief Sôgorô, who had made up his mind that the
presentation of this memorial was not a matter to be lightly treated,
summoned his wife and children and his relations, and said to them--
"I am about to undertake a journey to Yedo, for the following
reasons:--Our present lord of the soil has increased the land-tax, in
rice and the other imposts, more than tenfold, so that pen and paper
would fail to convey an idea of the poverty to which the people are
reduced, and the peasants are undergoing the tortures of hell upon
earth. Seeing this, the chiefs of the various villages have presented
petitions, but with what result is doubtful. My earnest desire,
therefore, is to devise some means of escape from this cruel
persecution. If my ambitious scheme does not succeed, then shall I
return home no more; and even should I gain my end, it is hard to say
how I may be treated by those in power. Let us drink a cup of wine
together, for it may be that you shall see my face no more. I give my
life to allay the misery of the people of this estate. If I die, mourn
not over my fate; weep not for me."
Having spoken thus, he addressed his wife and his four children,
instructing them carefully as to what he desired to be done after his
death, and minutely stating every wish of his heart. Then, having
drunk a parting cup with them, he cheerfully took leave of all
present, and went to a tea-house in the neighbouring village of
Funabashi, where the two messengers, Rokurobei and Jiuyémon, were
anxiously awaiting his arrival, in order that they might recount to
him all that had taken place at Yedo.
"In short," said they, "it appears to us that we have failed
completely; and we have come to meet you in order to hear what you
propose. If you have any plan to suggest, we would fain be made
acquainted with it."
"We have tried the officers of the district," replied Sôgorô, "and we
have tried my lord's palace at Yedo. However often we might assemble
before my lord's gate, no heed would be given to us. There is nothing
left for us but to appeal to the Shogun."
So they sat talking over their plans until the night was far advanced,
and then they went to rest. The winter night was long; but when the
cawing of the crows was about to announce the morning, the three
friends started on their journey for the tea-house at Asakusa, at
which, upon their arrival, they found the other village elders already
assembled.
"Welcome, Master Sôgorô," said they. "How is it that you have come so
late? We have petitioned all the officers to no purpose, and we have
broken our bones in vain. We are at our wits' end, and can think of no
other scheme. If there is any plan which seems good to you, we pray
you to act upon it."
"Sirs," replied Sôgorô, speaking very quietly, "although we have met
with no better success here than in our own place, there is no use in
grieving. In a day or two the Gorôjiu will be going to the castle; we
must wait for this opportunity, and following one of the litters,
thrust in our memorial. This is my opinion: what think you of it, my
masters?"
One and all, the assembled elders were agreed as to the excellence of
this advice; and having decided to act upon it, they returned to their
inn.
Then Sôgorô held a secret consultation with Jiuyémon, Hanzô,
Rokurobei, Chinzô, and Kinshirô, five of the elders, and, with their
assistance, drew up the memorial; and having heard that on the 26th of
the month, when the Gorôjiu should go to the castle, Kuzé Yamato no
Kami would proceed to a palace under the western enclosure of the
castle, they kept watch in a place hard by. As soon as they saw the
litter of the Gorôjiu approach, they drew near to it, and, having
humbly stated their grievances, handed in the petition; and as it was
accepted, the six elders were greatly elated, and doubted not that
their hearts' desire would be attained; so they went off to a
tea-house at Riyôgoku, and Jiuyémon said--
"We may congratulate ourselves on our success. We have handed in our
petition to the Gorôjiu, and now we may set our minds at rest; before
many days have passed, we shall hear good news from the rulers. To
Master Sôgorô is due great praise for his exertions."
Sôgorô, stepping forward, answered, "Although we have presented our
memorial to the Gorôjiu, the matter will not be so quickly decided; it
is therefore useless that so many of us should remain here: let eleven
men stay with me, and let the rest return home to their several
villages. If we who remain are accused of conspiracy and beheaded, let
the others agree to reclaim and bury our corpses. As for the expenses
which we shall incur until our suit is concluded, let that be
according to our original covenant. For the sake of the hundred and
thirty-six villages we will lay down our lives, if needs must, and
submit to the disgrace of having our heads exposed as those of common
malefactors."
Then they had a parting feast together, and, after a sad leave-taking,
the main body of the elders went home to their own country; while the
others, wending their way to their quarters waited patiently to be
summoned to the Supreme Court. On the 2d day of the 12th month,
Sôgorô, having received a summons from the residence of the Gorôjiu
Kuzé Yamato no Kami, proceeded to obey it, and was ushered to the
porch of the house, where two councillors, named Aijima Gidaiyu and
Yamaji Yôri, met him, and said--
"Some days since you had the audacity to thrust a memorial into the
litter of our lord Yamato no Kami. By an extraordinary exercise of
clemency, he is willing to pardon this heinous offence; but should you
ever again endeavour to force your petitions; upon him, you will be
held guilty of riotous conduct;" and with this they gave back the
memorial.
"I humbly admit the justice of his lordship's censure. But oh! my
lords, this is no hasty nor ill-considered action. Year after year,
affliction upon affliction has been heaped upon us, until at last the
people are without even the necessaries of life; and we, seeing no end
to the evil, have humbly presented this petition. I pray your
lordships of your great mercy to consider our case" and deign to
receive our memorial. Vouchsafe to take some measures that the people
may live, and our gratitude for your great kindness will know no
bounds."
"Your request is a just one," replied the two councillors after
hearing what he said; "but your memorial cannot be received: so you
must even take it back."
With this they gave back the document, and wrote down the names of
Sôgorô and six of the elders who had accompanied him. There was no
help for it: they must take back their petition, and return to their
inn. The seven men, dispirited and sorrowful, sat with folded arms
considering what was best to be done, what plan should be devised,
until at last, when they were at their wits' end, Sôgorô said, in a
whisper--
"So our petition, which we gave in after so much pains, has been
returned after all! With what f ace can we return to our villages
after such a disgrace? I, for one, do not propose to waste my labour
for nothing; accordingly, I shall bide my time until some day, when
the Shogun shall go forth from the castle, and, lying in wait by the
roadside, I shall make known our grievances to him, who is lord over
our lord. This is our last chance."
[Illustration: SÔGORÔ THRUSTING THE PETITION INTO THE SHOGUN'S
LITTER.]
The others all applauded this speech, and, having with one accord
hardened their hearts, waited for their opportunity.
Now it so happened that, on the 20th day of the 12th month, the then
Shogun, Prince Iyémitsu, was pleased to worship at the tombs of his
ancestors at Uyéno;[62] and Sôgorô and the other elders, hearing this,
looked upon it as a special favour from the gods, and felt certain
that this time they would not fail. So they drew up a fresh memorial,
and at the appointed time Sôgorô hid himself under the Sammayé Bridge,
in front of the black gate at Uyéno. When Prince Iyémitsu passed in
his litter, Sôgorô clambered up from under the bridge, to the great
surprise of the Shogun's attendants, who called out, "Push the fellow
on one side;" but, profiting by the confusion, Sôgorô, raising his
voice and crying, "I wish to humbly present a petition to his Highness
in person," thrust forward his memorial, which he had tied on to the
end of a bamboo stick six feet long, and tried to put it into the
litter; and although there were cries to arrest him, and he was
buffeted by the escort, he crawled up to the side of the litter, and
the Shogun accepted the document. But Sôgorô was arrested by the
escort, and thrown into prison. As for the memorial, his Highness
ordered that it should be handed in to the Gorôjiu Hotta Kôtsuké no
Suké, the lord of the petitioners.
[Footnote 62: Destroyed during the revolution, in the summer of 1868,
by the troops of the Mikado. See note on the tombs of the Shoguns, at
the end of the story.]
When Hotta Kôtsuké no Suké had returned home and read the memorial, he
summoned his councillor, Kojima Shikibu, and said--
"The officials of my estate are mere bunglers. When the peasants
assembled and presented a petition, they refused to receive it, and
have thus brought this trouble upon me. Their folly has been beyond
belief; however, it cannot be helped. We must remit all the new taxes,
and you must inquire how much was paid to the former lord of the
castle. As for this Sôgorô, he is not the only one who is at the
bottom of the conspiracy; however, as this heinous offence of his in
going out to lie in wait for the Shogun's procession is unpardonable,
we must manage to get him given up to us by the Government, and, as an
example for the rest of my people, he shall be crucified--he and his
wife and his children; and, after his death, all that he possesses
shall be confiscated. The other six men shall be banished; and that
will suffice."
"My lord," replied Shikibu, prostrating himself, "your lordship's
intentions are just. Sôgorô, indeed, deserves any punishment for his
outrageous crime. But I humbly venture to submit that his wife and
children cannot be said to be guilty in the same degree: I implore
your lordship mercifully to be pleased to absolve them from so severe
a punishment."
"Where the sin of the father is great, the wife and children cannot be
spared," replied Kôtsuké no Suké; and his councillor, seeing that his
heart was hardened, was forced to obey his orders without further
remonstrance.
So Kôtsuké no Suké, having obtained that Sôgorô should be given up to
him by the Government, caused him to be brought to his estate of
Sakura as a criminal, in a litter covered with nets, and confined him
in prison. When his case had been inquired into, a decree was issued
by the Lord Kôtsuké no Suké that he should be punished for a heinous
crime; and on the 9th day of the 2d month of the second year of the
period styled Shôhô (A.D. 1644) he was condemned to be crucified.
Accordingly Sôgorô, his wife and children, and the elders of the
hundred and thirty-six villages were brought before the Court-house of
Sakura, in which were assembled forty-five chief officers. The elders
were then told that, yielding to their petition, their lord was
graciously pleased to order that the oppressive taxes should be
remitted, and that the dues levied should not exceed those of the
olden time. As for Sôgorô and his wife, the following sentence was
passed upon them:--
"Whereas you have set yourself up as the head of the villagers;
whereas, secondly, you have dared to make light of the Government by
petitioning his Highness the Shogun directly, thereby offering an
insult to your lord; and whereas, thirdly, you have presented a
memorial to the Gorôjiu; and, whereas, fourthly, you were privy to a
conspiracy: for these four heinous crimes you are sentenced to death
by crucifixion. Your wife is sentenced to die in like manner; and your
children will be decapitated.
"This sentence is passed upon the following persons:--
"Sôgorô, chief of the village of Iwahashi, aged 48.
"His wife, Man, aged 38.
"His son, Gennosuké, aged 13.
"His son, Sôhei, aged 10.
"His son, Kihachi, aged 7."
The eldest daughter of Sôgorô, named Hatsu, nineteen years of age, was
married to a man named Jiuyémon, in the village of Hakamura, in
Shitachi, beyond the river, in the territory of Matsudaira Matsu no
Kami (the Prince of Sendai). His second daughter, whose name was Saki,
sixteen years of age, was married to one Tôjiurô, chief of a village
on the property of my lord Naitô Geki. No punishment was decreed
against these two women.
The six elders who had accompanied Sôgorô were told that although by
good rights they had merited death, yet by the special clemency of
their lord their lives would be spared, but that they were condemned
to banishment. Their wives and children would not be attainted, and
their property would be spared. The six men were banished to Oshima,
in the province of Idzu.
Sôgorô heard his sentence with pure courage.
The six men were banished; but three of them lived to be pardoned on
the occasion of the death of the Shogun, Prince Genyuin,[63] and
returned to their country.
[Footnote 63: The name assigned after death to Iyétsuna, the fourth of
the dynasty of Tokugawa, who died on the 8th day of the 5th month of
the year A.D. 1680.]
According to the above decision, the taxes were remitted; and men and
women, young and old, rejoiced over the advantage that had been gained
for them by Sôgorô and by the six elders, and there was not one that
did not mourn for their fate.
When the officers of the several villages left the Court-house, one
Zembei, the chief of the village of Sakato, told the others that he
had some important subjects to speak to them upon, and begged them to
meet him in the temple called Fukushôin. Every man having consented,
and the hundred and thirty-six men having assembled at the temple,
Zembei addressed them as follows:--
"The success of our petition, in obtaining the reduction of our taxes
to the same amount as was levied by our former lord, is owing to
Master Sôgorô, who has thus thrown away his life for us. He and his
wife and children are now to suffer as criminals for the sake of the
one hundred and thirty-six villages. That such a thing should take
place before our very eyes seems to me not to be borne. What say you,
my masters?"
"Ay! ay! what you say is just from top to bottom," replied the others.
Then Hanzayémon, the elder of the village of Katsuta, stepped forward
and said--
"As Master Zembei has just said, Sôgorô is condemned to die for a
matter in which all the village elders are concerned to a man. We
cannot look on unconcerned. Full well I know that it is useless our
pleading for Sôgorô; but we may, at least, petition that the lives of
his wife and children may be spared."
The assembled elders having all applauded this speech, they determined
to draw up a memorial; and they resolved, should their petition not be
accepted by the local authorities, to present it at their lord's
palace in Yedo, and, should that fail, to appeal to the Government.
Accordingly, before noon on the following day, they all affixed their
seals to the memorial, which four of them, including Zembei and
Hanzayémon, composed, as follows:--
"With deep fear we humbly venture to present the following petition,
which the elders of the one hundred and thirty-six villages of this
estate have sealed with their seals. In consequence of the humble
petition which we lately offered up, the taxes have graciously been
reduced to the rates levied by the former lord of the estate, and new
laws have been vouchsafed to us. With reverence and joy the peasants,
great and small, have gratefully acknowledged these favours. With
regard to Sôgorô, the elder of the village of Iwahashi, who ventured
to petition his highness the Shogun in person, thus being guilty of a
heinous crime, he has been sentenced to death in the castle-town. With
fear and trembling we recognize the justice of his sentence. But in
the matter of his wife and children, she is but a woman, and they are
so young and innocent that they cannot distinguish the east from the
west: we pray that in your great clemency you will remit their sin,
and give them up to the representatives of the one hundred and
thirty-six villages, for which we shall be ever grateful. We, the
elders of the villages, know not to what extent we may be
transgressing in presenting this memorial. We were all guilty of
affixing our seals to the former petition; but Sôgorô, who was chief
of a large district, producing a thousand kokus of revenue, and was
therefore a man of experience, acted for the others; and we grieve
that he alone should suffer for all. Yet in his case we reverently
admit that there can be no reprieve. For his wife and children,
however, we humbly implore your gracious mercy and consideration.
"Signed by the elders of the villages of the estate, the 2d year of
Shôhô, and the 2d month."
Having drawn up this memorial, the hundred and thirty-six elders, with
Zembei at their head, proceeded to the Court-house to present the
petition, and found the various officers seated in solemn conclave.
Then the clerk took the petition, and, having opened it, read it
aloud; and the councillor, Ikéura Kazuyé, said--
"The petition which you have addressed to us is worthy of all praise.
But you must know that this is a matter which is no longer within our
control. The affair has been reported to the Government; and although
the priests of my lord's ancestral temple have interceded for Sôgorô,
my lord is so angry that he will not listen even to them, saying that,
had he not been one of the Gorôjiu, he would have been in danger of
being ruined by this man: his high station alone saved him. My lord
spoke so severely that the priests themselves dare not recur to the
subject. You see, therefore, that it will be no use your attempting to
take any steps in the matter, for most certainly your petition will
not be received. You had better, then, think no more about it." And
with these words he gave back the memorial.
Zembei and the elders, seeing, to their infinite sorrow, that their
mission was fruitless, left the Court-house, and most sorrowfully took
counsel together, grinding their teeth in their disappointment when
they thought over what the councillor had said as to the futility of
their attempt. Out of grief for this, Zembei, with Hanzayémon and
Heijiurô, on the 11th day of the 2d month (the day on which Sôgorô and
his wife and children suffered), left Ewaradai, the place of
execution, and went to the temple Zenkôji, in the province of
Shinshiu, and from thence they ascended Mount Kôya in Kishiu, and, on
the 1st day of the 8th month, shaved their heads and became priests;
Zembei changed his name to Kakushin, and Hanzayémon changed his to
Zenshô: as for Heijiurô, he fell sick at the end of the 7th month, and
on the 11th day of the 8th month died, being forty-seven years old
that year. These three men, who had loved Sôgorô as the fishes love
water, were true to him to the last. Heijiurô was buried on Mount
Kôya. Kakushin wandered through the country as a priest, praying for
the entry of Sôgorô and his children into the perfection of paradise;
and, after visiting all the shrines and temples, came back at last to
his own province of Shimôsa, and took up his abode at the temple
Riukakuji, in the village of Kano, and in the district of Imban,
praying and making offerings on behalf of the souls of Sôgorô, his
wife and children. Hanzayémon, now known as the priest Zenshô,
remained at Shinagawa, a suburb of Yedo, and, by the charity of good
people, collected enough money to erect six bronze Buddhas, which
remain standing to this day. He fell sick and died, at the age of
seventy, on the 10th day of the 2d month of the 13th year of the
period styled Kambun. Zembei, who, as a priest, had changed his name
to Kakushin, died, at the age of seventy-six, on the 17th day of the
10th month of the 2d year of the period styled Empô. Thus did those
men, for the sake of Sôgorô and his family, give themselves up to
works of devotion; and the other villagers also brought food to soothe
the spirits of the dead, and prayed for their entry into paradise; and
as litanies were repeated without intermission, there can be no doubt
that Sôgorô attained salvation.
"In paradise, where the blessings of God are distributed without
favour, the soul learns its faults by the measure of the rewards
given. The lusts of the flesh are abandoned; and the soul, purified,
attains to the glory of Buddha."[64]
[Footnote 64: Buddhist text.]
On the 11th day of the 2d month of the 2d year of Shôhô, Sôgorô having
been convicted of a heinous crime, a scaffold was erected at Ewaradai,
and the councillor who resided at Yedo and the councillor who resided
on the estate, with the other officers, proceeded to the place in all
solemnity. Then the priests of Tôkôji, in the village of Sakénaga,
followed by coffin-bearers, took their places in front of the
councillors, and said--
"We humbly beg leave to present a petition."
"What have your reverences to say?"
"We are men who have forsaken the world and entered the priesthood,"
answered the monks, respectfully; "and we would fain, if it be
possible, receive the bodies of those who are to die, that we may bury
them decently. It will be a great joy to us if our humble petition be
graciously heard and granted."
"Your request shall be granted; but as the crime of Sôgorô was great,
his body must be exposed for three days and three nights, after which
the corpse shall be given to you."
At the hour of the snake (10 A.M.), the hour appointed for the
execution, the people from the neighbouring villages and the
castle-town, old and young, men and women, flocked to see the sight:
numbers there were, too, who came to bid a last farewell to Sôgorô,
his wife and children, and to put up a prayer for them. When the hour
had arrived, the condemned were dragged forth bound, and made to sit
upon coarse mats. Sôgorô and his wife closed their eyes, for the sight
was more than they could bear; and the spectators, with heaving
breasts and streaming eyes, cried "Cruel!" and "Pitiless!" and taking
sweetmeats and cakes from the bosoms of their dresses threw them to
the children. At noon precisely Sôgorô and his wife were bound to the
crosses, which were then set upright and fixed in the ground. When
this had been done, their eldest son Gennosuké was led forward to the
scaffold, in front of the two parents. Then Sôgorô cried out--
"Oh! cruel, cruel! what crime has this poor child committed that he
is treated thus? As for me, it matters not what becomes of me." And
the tears trickled down his face.
The spectators prayed aloud, and shut their eyes; and the executioner
himself, standing behind the boy, and saying that it was a pitiless
thing that the child should suffer for the father's fault, prayed
silently. Then Gennosuké, who had remained with his eyes closed, said
to his parents--
"Oh! my father and mother, I am going before you to paradise, that
happy country, to wait for you. My little brothers and I will be on
the banks of the river Sandzu,[65] and stretch out our hands and help
you across. Farewell, all you who have come to see us die; and now
please cut off my head at once."
[Footnote 65: The Buddhist Styx, which separates paradise from hell,
across which the dead are ferried by an old woman, for whom a small
piece of money is buried with them.]
With this he stretched out his neck, murmuring a last prayer; and not
only Sôgorô and his wife, but even the executioner and the spectators
could not repress their tears; but the headsman, unnerved as he was,
and touched to the very heart, was forced, on account of his office,
to cut off the child's head, and a piteous wail arose from the parents
and the spectators.
Then the younger child Sôhei said to the headsman, "Sir, I have a sore
on my right shoulder: please, cut my head off from the left shoulder,
lest you should hurt me. Alas! I know not how to die, nor what I
should do."
When the headsman and the officers present heard the child's artless
speech, they wept again for very pity; but there was no help for it,
and the head fell off more swiftly than water is drunk up by sand.
Then little Kihachi, the third son, who, on account of his tender
years, should have been spared, was butchered as he was in his
simplicity eating the sweetmeats which had been thrown to him by the
spectators.
When the execution of the children was over, the priests of Tôkôji
took their corpses, and, having placed them in their coffins, carried
them away, amidst the lamentations of the bystanders, and buried them
with great solemnity.
Then Shigayémon, one of the servants of Danzayémon, the chief of the
Etas, who had been engaged for the purpose, was just about to thrust
his spear, when O Man, Sôgorô's wife, raising her voice, said--
"Remember, my husband, that from the first you had made up your mind
to this fate. What though our bodies be disgracefully exposed on these
crosses?--we have the promises of the gods before us; therefore, mourn
not. Let us fix our minds upon death: we are drawing near to paradise,
and shall soon be with the saints. Be calm, my husband. Let us
cheerfully lay down our single lives for the good of many. Man lives
but for one generation; his name, for many. A good name is more to be
prized than life."