[Decoration]
[13] The original story is in the _Otogi-Hyaku-Monogatari_
IN Kyoto there is a famous temple called Amadera. Sadazumi Shinno, the
fifth son of the Emperor Seiwa, passed the greater part of his life
there as a priest; and the graves of many celebrated persons are to be
seen in the temple-grounds.
But the present edifice is not the ancient Amadera. The original temple,
after the lapse of ten centuries, fell into such decay that it had to be
entirely rebuilt in the fourteenth year of Genroku (1701 A. D.).
A great festival was held to celebrate the rebuilding of the Amadera;
and among the thousands of persons who attended that festival there was
a young scholar and poet named Hanagaki Baishu. He wandered about the
newly-laid-out grounds and gardens, delighted by all that he saw, until
he reached the place of a spring at which he had often drunk in former
times. He was then surprised to find that the soil about the spring had
been dug away, so as to form a square pond, and that at one corner of
this pond there had been set up a wooden tablet bearing the words
_Tanjo-Sui_ ("Birth-Water").[14] He also saw that a small, but very
handsome temple of the Goddess Benten had been erected beside the pond.
While he was looking at this new temple, a sudden gust of wind blew to
his feet a _tanzaku_,[15] on which the following poem had been written:--
Shirushi areto
Iwai zo somuru
Tama hoki,
Torute bakari no
Chigiri naretomo.
[14] The word _tanjo_ (birth) should here be understood in its
mystical Buddhist meaning of new life or rebirth, rather
than in the western signification of birth.
[15] _Tanzaku_ is the name given to the long strips or ribbons
of paper, usually colored, upon which poems are written
perpendicularly. Poems written upon _tanzaku_ are suspended
to trees in flower, to wind-bells, to any beautiful object
in which the poet has found an inspiration.
This poem--a poem on first love (_hatsu koi_), composed by the famous
Shunrei Kyo--was not unfamiliar to him; but it had been written upon
the _tanzaku_ by a female hand, and so exquisitely that he could
scarcely believe his eyes. Something in the form of the characters,--an
indefinite grace,--suggested that period of youth between childhood and
womanhood; and the pure rich color of the ink seemed to bespeak the
purity and goodness of the writer's heart.[16]
[16] It is difficult for the inexperienced European eye to
distinguish in Chinese or Japanese writing those
characteristics implied by our term "hand"--in the sense of
individual style. But the Japanese scholar never forgets
the peculiarities of a handwriting once seen; and he can
even guess at the approximate age of the writer. Chinese
and Japanese authors claim that the color (quality) of the
ink used tells something of the character of the writer. As
every person grounds or prepares his or her own ink, the
deeper and clearer black would at least indicate something
of personal carefulness and of the sense of beauty.
Baishu carefully folded up the _tanzaku_, and took it home with him.
When he looked at it again the writing appeared to him even more
wonderful than at first. His knowledge in caligraphy assured him only
that the poem had been written by some girl who was very young, very
intelligent, and probably very gentle-hearted. But this assurance
sufficed to shape within his mind the image of a very charming person;
and he soon found himself in love with the unknown. Then his first
resolve was to seek out the writer of the verses, and, if possible, make
her his wife.... Yet how was he to find her? Who was she? Where did she
live? Certainly he could hope to find her only through the favor of the
Gods.
But presently it occurred to him that the Gods might be very willing
to lend their aid. The _tanzaku_ had come to him while he was
standing in front of the temple of Benten-Sama; and it was to this
divinity in particular that lovers were wont to pray for happy union.
This reflection impelled him to beseech the Goddess for assistance.
He went at once to the temple of Benten-of-the-Birth-Water
(_Tanjo-sui-no-Benten_) in the grounds of the Amadera; and there, with
all the fervor of his heart, he made his petition:--"O Goddess, pity
me!--help me to find where the young person lives who wrote the
_tanzaku_!--vouchsafe me but one chance to meet her,--even if only for
a moment!" And after having made this prayer, he began to perform a
seven days' religious service (_nanuka-mairi_)[17] in honor of the
Goddess; vowing at the same time to pass the seventh night in ceaseless
worship before her shrine.
[17] There are many kinds of religious exercises called _mairi_.
The performer of a _nanuka-mairi_ pledges himself to pray
at a certain temple every day for seven days in succession.
* * * * *
Now on the seventh night,--the night of his vigil,--during the hour when
the silence is most deep, he heard at the main gateway of the
temple-grounds a voice calling for admittance. Another voice from within
answered; the gate was opened; and Baishu saw an old man of majestic
appearance approaching with slow steps. This venerable person was clad
in robes of ceremony; and he wore upon his snow-white head a black cap
(_eboshi_) of the form indicating high rank. Reaching the little temple
of Benten, he knelt down in front of it, as if respectfully awaiting
some order. Then the outer door of the temple was opened; the hanging
curtain of bamboo behind it, concealing the inner sanctuary, was rolled
half-way up; and a _chigo_[18] came forward,--a beautiful boy, with long
hair tied back in the ancient manner. He stood at the threshold, and
said to the old man in a clear loud voice:--
[18] The term _chigo_ usually means the page of a noble
household, especially an Imperial page. The _chigo_ who
appears in this story is of course a supernatural
being,--the court-messenger of the Goddess, and her
mouthpiece.
"There is a person here who has been praying for a love-union not
suitable to his present condition, and otherwise difficult to bring
about. But as the young man is worthy of Our pity, you have been called
to see whether something can be done for him. If there should prove to
be any relation between the parties from the period of a former birth,
you will introduce them to each other."
On receiving this command, the old man bowed respectfully to the
_chigo_: then, rising, he drew from the pocket of his long left sleeve a
crimson cord. One end of this cord he passed round Baishu's body, as if
to bind him with it. The other end he put into the flame of one of the
temple-lamps; and while the cord was there burning, he waved his hand
three times, as if to summon somebody out of the dark.
Immediately, in the direction of the Amadera, a sound of coming steps
was heard; and in another moment a girl appeared,--a charming girl,
fifteen or sixteen years old. She approached gracefully, but very
shyly,--hiding the lower part of her face with a fan; and she knelt down
beside Baishu. The _chigo_ then said to Baishu:--
"Recently you have been suffering much heart-pain; and this desperate
love of yours has even impaired your health. We could not allow you to
remain in so unhappy a condition; and We therefore summoned the
Old-Man-under-the-Moon[19] to make you acquainted with the writer of
that _tanzaku_. She is now beside you."
[19] _Gekkawo_. This is a poetical appellation for the God
of Marriage, more usually known as _Musubi-no-kami_.
Throughout this story there is an interesting mingling of
Shinto and Buddhist ideas.
With these words, the _chigo_ retired behind the bamboo curtain. Then
the old man went away as he had come; and the young girl followed him.
Simultaneously Baishu heard the great bell of the Amadera sounding the
hour of dawn. He prostrated himself in thanksgiving before the shrine of
Benten-of-the-Birth-Water, and proceeded homeward,--feeling as if
awakened from some delightful dream,--happy at having seen the charming
person whom he had so fervently prayed to meet,--unhappy also because of
the fear that he might never meet her again.
But scarcely had he passed from the gateway into the street, when he saw
a young girl walking alone in the same direction that he was going; and,
even in the dusk of the dawn, he recognized her at once as the person to
whom he had been introduced before the temple of Benten. As he quickened
his pace to overtake her, she turned and saluted him with a graceful
bow. Then for the first time he ventured to speak to her; and she
answered him in a voice of which the sweetness filled his heart with
joy. Through the yet silent streets they walked on, chatting happily,
till they found themselves before the house where Baishu lived. There he
paused--spoke to the girl of his hopes and fears. Smiling, she
asked:--"Do you not know that I was sent for to become your wife?" And
she entered with him.
* * * * *
Becoming his wife, she delighted him beyond expectation by the charm of
her mind and heart. Moreover, he found her to be much more accomplished
than he had supposed. Besides being able to write so wonderfully, she
could paint beautiful pictures; she knew the art of arranging flowers,
the art of embroidery, the art of music; she could weave and sew; and
she knew everything in regard to the management of a house.
* * * * *
It was in the early autumn that the young people had met; and they lived
together in perfect accord until the winter season began. Nothing,
during those months, occurred to disturb their peace. Baishu's love for
his gentle wife only strengthened with the passing of time. Yet,
strangely enough, he remained ignorant of her history,--knew nothing
about her family. Of such matters she had never spoken; and, as the Gods
had given her to him, he imagined that it would not be proper to
question her. But neither the Old-Man-under-the-Moon nor any one else
came--as he had feared--to take her away. Nobody even made any inquiries
about her. And the neighbors, for some undiscoverable reason, acted as
if totally unaware of her presence.
Baishu wondered at all this. But stranger experiences were awaiting
him.
One winter morning he happened to be passing through a somewhat remote
quarter of the city, when he heard himself loudly called by name, and
saw a man-servant making signs to him from the gateway of a private
residence. As Baishu did not know the man's face, and did not have a
single acquaintance in that part of Kyoto, he was more than startled by
so abrupt a summons. But the servant, coming forward, saluted him with
the utmost respect, and said, "My master greatly desires the honor of
speaking with you: deign to enter for a moment." After an instant of
hesitation, Baishu allowed himself to be conducted to the house. A
dignified and richly dressed person, who seemed to be the master,
welcomed him at the entrance, and led him to the guest-room. When the
courtesies due upon a first meeting had been fully exchanged, the host
apologized for the informal manner of his invitation, and said:--
"It must have seemed to you very rude of us to call you in such a way.
But perhaps you will pardon our impoliteness when I tell you that we
acted thus upon what I firmly believe to have been an inspiration from
the Goddess Benten. Now permit me to explain.
"I have a daughter, about sixteen years old, who can write rather
well,[20] and do other things in the common way: she has the ordinary
nature of woman. As we were anxious to make her happy by finding a good
husband for her, we prayed the Goddess Benten to help us; and we sent to
every temple of Benten in the city a _tanzaku_ written by the girl. Some
nights later, the Goddess appeared to me in a dream, and said: 'We have
heard your prayer, and have already introduced your daughter to the
person who is to become her husband. During the coming winter he will
visit you.' As I did not understand this assurance that a presentation
had been made, I felt some doubt; I thought that the dream might have
been only a common dream, signifying nothing. But last night again I saw
Benten-Sama in a dream; and she said to me: 'To-morrow the young man, of
whom I once spoke to you, will come to this street: then you can call
him into your house, and ask him to become the husband of your daughter.
He is a good young man; and later in life he will obtain a much higher
rank than he now holds.' Then Benten-Sama told me your name, your age,
your birthplace, and described your features and dress so exactly that
my servant found no difficulty in recognizing you by the indications
which I was able to give him."
[20] As it is the old Japanese rule that parents should speak
depreciatingly of their children's accomplishments the
phrase "rather well" in this connection would mean, for the
visitor, "wonderfully well." For the same reason the
expressions "common way" and "ordinary nature," as
subsequently used, would imply almost the reverse of the
literal meaning.
* * * * *
This explanation bewildered Baishu instead of reassuring him; and his
only reply was a formal return of thanks for the honor which the master
of the house had spoken of doing him. But when the host invited him to
another room, for the purpose of presenting him to the young lady, his
embarrassment became extreme. Yet he could not reasonably decline the
introduction. He could not bring himself, under such extraordinary
circumstances, to announce that he already had a wife,--a wife given to
him by the Goddess Benten herself; a wife from whom he could not even
think of separating. So, in silence and trepidation, he followed his
host to the apartment indicated.
Then what was his amazement to discover, when presented to the daughter
of the house, that she was the very same person whom he had already
taken to wife!
_The same,--yet not the same._
She to whom he had been introduced by the Old-Man-under-the-Moon, was
only the soul of the beloved.
She to whom he was now to be wedded, in her father's house, was the
body.
Benten had wrought this miracle for the sake of her worshippers.
[Decoration]
The original story breaks off suddenly at this point, leaving several
matters unexplained. The ending is rather unsatisfactory. One would like
to know something about the mental experiences of the real maiden during
the married life of her phantom. One would also like to know what became
of the phantom,--whether it continued to lead an independent existence;
whether it waited patiently for the return of its husband; whether it
paid a visit to the real bride. And the book says nothing about these
things. But a Japanese friend explains the miracle thus:--
"The spirit-bride was really formed out of the _tanzaku_. So it is
possible that the real girl did not know anything about the meeting at
the temple of Benten. When she wrote those beautiful characters upon the
_tanzaku_, something of her spirit passed into them. Therefore it was
possible to evoke from the writing the double of the writer."