MARRIED LIFE.
The meek obedience of O'Tei to her father's wishes was but ill
requited. The gulf between past and present was so wide that for a
while she was dazed and stunned. It seemed to her that she must have
passed in sleep through the gates of Death, and have been born again
into a new dark world--desolate and drear--which was all evil. How
calm and happy by contrast appeared that other life, as she recalled
to mind the company of prim priestesses slowly floating in the dance;
the lazy, sweet-tempered bonzes tinkling on bells, droning amiably
through noses--their weightiest duty, adoration of the sun with
foreheads in the dust; their loving labour, the cleaning of temple
precincts; their pastime, the gentle craft of gardening. Now she found
herself surrounded by a roistering crew of fierce, rough, ignorant
retainers--scowling, swearing, swaggering samurai--swash-bucklers who
were eternally cleaning and polishing their two swords and dirk, or
practising some horribly nimble feat of arms, or with set teeth in
sudden rage like red-eyed rats flying at one another's throats.
Nuptial pomp and ceremony over, bride and groom retired to their
castle, where, with the laudable intent of making other magnates
jealous, a series of sham fights and sumptuous jousts were
inaugurated, whose unaccustomed din confused the brain of the
chatelaine. For a space No-Kami appeared in his best light, for he was
subjugated by the beauty of his young wife, and unconsciously a little
afraid of her quiet high-bred demeanour. Bravely she strove to
interest herself in his pursuits; with unflagging patience watched the
retainers wrestling or riding at the ring; compelled herself to bestow
applause on bouts at quarter-staff which wearied her. And yet,
discipline herself as she would, the constant thud of stick on skull,
or blade on helm--the guttural shrieks and execrations--chilled her to
the marrow. There could be no sympathy 'twixt the sensitive and poetic
nature reared in the sacred groves, and these grim and savage
warriors. And, sharp to read faces, if ignorant of letters, they knew
it as well as she, for her virtues were strange riddles beyond their
comprehension. What they could be sure of was that their lady was
regrettably white and slender,--too soft and delicate for a hard world
of struggle, where the weak were deservedly mangled. Sorrowfully they
compared her with the late chatelaine, unhappily deceased, the lioness
Tomoye, much (as is the usual practice) to the disadvantage of the
living one. There is nothing that such men hold in more withering
contempt than weakness. The chivalry of mediaeval Europe was mostly
theory. Discontented, they did their liege lady a pathetic and
grudging service, ashamed of her as unsuited to her station.
One day as she sat listless, wondering at the emptiness of life,
No-Kami strode into her bower to claim admiration for a new and
wondrous sword, fresh from Sanjo's anvil. In his nervous grasp it
whizzed through the air with diabolic whistling sound, as he showed
exultantly how he meant to slash off the head with it of the Daimio of
Bizen, and other abominable rivals.
Now although O'Tei, in careless girlish fashion, had been rather fond
of watching the armourers at work (the more perhaps because of the
disapproval of sniffing gorgons), she had never clearly associated the
results of their skill with their true purpose. She had always been
bidden to observe the spring of the glittering blade, the clouded
lines so deftly worked into the steel; the patterned _kogai_ or
stilettoes fitted in the scabbard; the elaborately ornate _tsuba_ or
hilt-guard; and saw as she admired details beautiful works of art fit
to adorn a dwelling. But now when she beheld her husband making fierce
passes, with a blood-curdling expression of ferocity upon his face,
she became aware, for the first time, of his animal greed for blood,
and shuddered as she looked, turning a shade more pale. To this wild
beast she had been tied for life. What sort of existence could she
hope for in the future? Would it be possible to go on to the end
pretending to sympathise with that which in her heart she loathed?
Power, unless kept in leash by thongs and bridles, degenerates into a
tyranny that, feeding on itself, grows every day more infamous. She
had learnt by report that her lord was a tyrant, and disliked by many,
though as yet she knew no details.
She had been taught vaguely by the learned bonzes that the human
animal is by nature a beast of prey, blood-raw till cooked by
education. The man before her was as ignorant, and more lawless than
his own retainers. Was it her task to show him the right path?--to
wean him to better things by gentle influence? A noble mission, for
one who was strong of purpose, firm of will. The girl resolved that
she would try, but felt, with a sinking of the heart, that the task
was beyond her strength. No-Kami discerned upon her features a look of
pained bewilderment out of tune with the occasion, and bluntly growled
his discontent. He was surprised and angry. When a chatelaine is
called on to sympathise and exult with her lord, why does she show
disgust? It came suddenly upon him that there was a barrier between
them which, though intangible, neither might ever pass. A pretty
helpmeet for a Hojo was this degenerate child of Nara's! Strolling
through the well-appointed armoury, displeased and concerned, he
selected the light silver-mounted lance which his grandam had used to
splendid purpose when, in the absence of her spouse, she defended this
very castle. More doughty even than the much-regretted Tomoye had been
this grandam, and no wonder, for, of noblest lineage, was she not the
direct descendant of that famous Empress Jingo, who, leaving her
new-born babe in the charge of her ministers, sallied forth armed
_cap-a-pie_ to conquer Corea?
"Did O'Tei know even how to hold a lance?" sneered No-Kami.
Of course she did, she replied, with a forced smile. Was not every
noble damsel taught how to defend her home?
At the outset she had made a mistake by showing her thoughts upon her
features, an error that might be yet retrieved. To smooth the
disappointed furrows from his wrinkled brow, she took the lance from
him, and straightway went through the exercise. For a moment it
pleased his vanity to watch the graceful movements of her tall lithe
form as, gathering in one hand the ample folds of her long robe, she
ran forward, thrust, and recovered. And then, happening to glance at
the tell-tale countenance, he cursed and ground his teeth, for her
martial exercise was a sham.
Her thoughts were far away. Like a patient automaton wound up with a
spring, she half consciously did what was required, but clearly found
no pleasure in the act. With a great oath he roughly wrenched the
weapon from her, and bade her go mind her distaff.
She sighed, and, obeying with aggravating meekness, retired to her
chamber; and from this moment there grew up between the wedded
pair a thicket which waxed stronger each day and thicker. The
parasites--braggart samurai, turbulent officers and soldiers, and
truculent hangers-on--were quick to perceive a change with which they
sympathised, and prompt to act upon it. Boisterous, rude, ill-mannered
at the best, they saw that, like themselves, their lord was ashamed
of his handsome and cold but fragile wife, and by insensible
gradations--he unwitting of it--their perfunctory respect dropped from
them. No-Kami was heard one day, in unguarded whirl of wrath, due to
baulked hope and disappointment, to dub her "Puling baby-face," and
loud was the laughter at the _sobriquet_, for one and all they
unconsciously chafed under a refinement of which they had no
experience, and came to hate her for her gentleness.
And so it came about that, abandoning as hopeless at the initial stage
the mission for which (by the late statesman's cunning) she had been
destined, O'Tei withdrew from serious attempts at influencing the
despot, and made the first fatal downward step on her dark and stony
road.
Entrenching herself behind a screen of pride, she withdrew herself
from contact with the samurai, by whom she was treated with a surly
carelessness that was insult but half concealed. When etiquette
required it, she appeared in public beside No-Kami, whose attitude was
sulky and displeased; at other times she abode in her own bower
overlooking the swift river, a retreat where she could not hear the
yells and sword-thuds, embroidering among her maidens, or reading
poetry, or playing on the three-stringed samisen. Though secluded, it
was by her own choice, and she in no sense a prisoner. No-Kami, when
in amiable mood--which, as time went on, became a more and more
unusual circumstance--displayed for his wife an uncouth, sulky,
snarling respect, like that of a wolf under a whip; for instinct
whispered that he was totally unworthy,--that as she came to read
him better she would despise him more,--that already she saw with
those calm clear eyes his many faults and mental smallness, though too
well-mannered and too haughty to admit it. A rude and proud as well as
licentious and undisciplined man finds contempt from her who should be
his congenial helpmeet a constantly galling spur.
If O'Tei, descending from that lofty pedestal, would only have abused
him roundly,--have bandied sharp words,--have stooped to scold him, he
would have breathed more freely. The air would have been cleared of
its oppressiveness, for he would have known himself nearer to her
level. How exasperating was it to the self-indulgent and unscrupulous
tyrant to have this pale and silent and superior woman always at his
elbow dispassionately contemplating his peccadilloes with disapproval
peeping from her eyes. The worst of it was that he knew her to be
right in her estimate of him, and secretly admired his chill and
independent wife. Yet at the same time her presence was irksome, and
goaded her spouse to flashes of rage which drove him, as it were in
protest, to deeds of violence. It was the old story, which is ever
new, of the 'little rift;' of two young lives starting side by side
from standpoints far as the poles, with mutual misunderstanding and
distrust, that increase like a rolling snowball till they grow into
active detestation.
The Hojo neglected and avoided his consort, but was not wilfully
cruel. If he chanced to have it by him, he would, when asked, give her
money for charities; for, like many another misunderstood lady, she
sought a salve for lacerated feelings in good works. It would have
been most impolitic to have been patently unkind to her, because it
was not well to make a foe of Nara by openly ill-using his heiress. He
wist not of the conduct of the samurai, who took their cue from him;
but he certainly saw as little as he conveniently could of his
beautiful better half, spending considerable time at Ki[^y]oto
quarrelling with other daimios, browbeating his imperial lord.
For her part, reared in retirement, and a stranger to town gaieties,
she preferred the castle--when No-Kami was absent with his scowling
retinue. Then, her own mistress, she would order her kago,--a heavy
gorgeous litter, gold lacquered and emblazoned, adorned with rich
curtains, and cushions, and tassels, borne on the shoulders of twelve
staggering men--and penetrating, when the fancy seized her, along the
centipede street of Tsu, make for a garden beyond, to which she had
taken a liking. Reaching the favoured spot was the difficulty, for it
was necessary to pass along two miles and more of straggling street
and suburb, where poverty, if speechless, was rampant. To her pale
face, though, it always showed its less hideous side, for the poor of
Tsu (how many there were of them!) soon learned to adore their
chatelaine.
She could not with her feeble force even attempt to stem the tide of
suffering due to my lord's oppression; but the crushed creatures knew
right well that behind the marble mask was a deep fund of pity--that
their lady would sometimes go dinnerless herself for the sake of
starving children. When she passed by, the toilworn women would look
up, and show their blackened teeth in a wan smile; and the brown
naked children, with their comical shaved pates and elf-locks--their
bat-ears, wide mouths and eyes _a fleur de tete_ like slits--would
come trooping and crowing about her. She was always interested in the
details of their poor homes,--ready with soothing words, and such
money as she happened to possess; would converse with the old men as
they wove sandals, the two straw loops caught on their great toes;
criticise the painting of the ph[oe]nixes on the umbrellas of oil
paper, an industry in vogue in these parts; exhort the languishing men
to renewed courage and hope; and all the while her revolted soul died
within her at contemplation of the wretched huts of mud and bamboo,
some of them mere mats stretched on sticks, and stiffened with wire,
with rotten crumbling roofs of decayed rice thatch, and mud floors
that were never dry. Her heart bled for the patient, suffering people,
and she was glad to get away to her garden, where the sun shone forth
with halcyon brightness, and nature at least was happy. For Tsu, I
would have you know, is not all ugliness. Passing out of the low-lying
oozy suburb, you reach a wooden bridge over one of the numberless
streams that intersect the marsh, and a little further on come to
rising ground, well wooded with the luxuriant vegetation which in
Japan is the lavish gift of the rain-god. At the top of the hill,
under the lee of a group of ancient pines, much tossed and
wind-beaten, is a summer-house. From the road it is not visible, so
deeply is it embowered in cherry and maple, each so glorious and
lovely in its season, the which are closely tangled and entwined with
such cataracts of purple wisteria as no western mind can realise. This
hill or hillock, and another one hard by, stand alone on a wide plain,
and from them may be gained a singularly varied view of flat marsh,
and sedge, and vivid green rice fields, and scattered villages, and
far-off hazy mountains. In front--and this was the view that brought
back peace into the empty breast of the young chatelaine, the ground
shelved gradually, thick strewn with flowers, until--a semicircle of
yellow sand--it was washed by the softly-rippling waves of a blue bay,
land-locked. Here nature, casting her golden glamour over all, masked
the prevailing squalor. No typhoon ever vexed these enchanted waters,
that washed to and fro in slow cadence the clumps of bamboo with which
their edge was feathered. The tiny toy villages on the opposite brink
were mirrored in long shadow. The festooned sails of the little
fishing-boats, and trim white junks, were pictured in quivering double
four times their height. The mountains beyond, of a deep reddish
purple, without detail in the haze, were topped with strange
silhouettes of single pines, clear against opal ether, or sharp cut
against the blue with chasm and precipice. Many rocky islets were
dotted here and there--volcanic, peaked, flat-topped--each with its
long reflection, fringed with feathery foliage, hanging apparently to
nothing--around, a flight of boats, like sea-birds floating. Sitting
for hours gazing down on the fairy scene, her stalwart naked
kago-bearers asleep like statues of warm bronze away in the shade,
O'Tei could forget her disillusions; but then with setting sun the
shadow darkened, for the time was arrived when she must go home again,
and with a return to the panoply of war, and swagger of the sentinels,
peace and light faded out, and her heart was as sick as ever.
Sometimes, more sad than usual, she would make to the sister hill a
pilgrimage.
The gateway or torii at the bottom (one heavy beam curled at the
corners, resting on two others) and the long straight flight of stone
steps leading to a building with huge top-heavy roof, nestling in a
grove of cryptomerias, showed that this was a holy hill surmounted by
a temple. A very important temple too, with an immense gilt Buddha
looming out of twilight on a bronze lotus, in an attitude of perpetual
repose; gardens; fish-ponds, crowded with lotus plants; and a long low
building glinting through the trees, wherein dwelt an abbess and her
nuns.
What would happen to the Japanese if the lotus were banished from
their midst? In winter, a mere yellow whisp languishing in mud; in
early summer there rises a fairy thing from out the ooze--a concave
shield of vivid green, with a blue down as of a grape, and dewdrops
glistening like diamonds. Then a round ball appears, which slowly
opens, trembling upon the water, and gradually reveals the loveliest
flower that blows. To the Japanese child who strives to pluck its
white or roseate blossom, it is a picture of unearthly loveliness; to
the adult it is the symbol of religious truth, the emblem of the
eternal calm which is the highest ultimate reward. Taught from
earliest childhood to love its beauty, the mature Buddhist sees in its
petals creative power and world growth, and knows that when his mortal
body approaches the cremation house, his weary cycle done, a stone
carved to represent a lotus flower will support his bier and receive
the last ashes of his fleshly prison-house.
During her three years of married life, O'Tei had made, under shadow
of these groves, a firm and steady friend, without whose support she
thought sometimes that she must lie down and die--the cold but kindly
Abbess Masago.
As has been told, the second wife or concubine of the late Hojo, so
soon as her fickle lord grew weary of her, shaved off her hair and
donned the Buddhist habit. Monastic life in Japan is a strange
anomaly. Many an abbess or abbot, supposed to have retired from the
world, bestows from the seclusion of the grove mundane advice and
counsel. Some, indeed, gain weight and influence of an important
political kind with the loss of their shaven hair; and so it was with
Masago. As Abbess of Tsu, many of the weary or unstable of lofty
lineage came to crave counsel of her--lords and dames who would have
scoffed at the concubine of Hojo. The religious establishments of
Japan become asylums for the afflicted or the persecuted. In
them the defeated soldier or refugee from the vendetta finds
inviolate sanctuary. Many a man hopelessly crossed in love, or a
grief-stricken father, or fallen minister, has--mundane illusions
vanished--devoted himself to a priestly life. To the nunneries,
widowhood furnishes the greater number of fervent nuns; but a
necessity of evading an uncongenial match, or the brutal lusts of rude
men in unsettled times, gave many an inmate to the convents.
Often enough, after communing with Masago under the solemn
cryptomerias, O'Tei had gone home comforted. There was something
consoling and supporting in the low-toned strong voice of the Abbess,
in the touch of her firm white hand. Her face was more set and stern
than Sampei's, but his kindly eyes looked out from under the shaven
brows, and O'Tei could feel almost as if her dear adopted brother was
walking hand-in-hand with her as in the good old days. Ah, me, how far
away they seemed, those days of five years ago! The gleeful white fawn
was a hundred years older, at least, than then, stricken and
grievously wounded. Her breast was empty; nobody cared whether she was
alive or dead; she loved none, had none to love, and yet there was a
longing within that was positive physical pain, to twine her
affectionate tendrils around something, and exhale to it the treasures
of her sweetness.
Alack, what a cycle is this; what a hard and rugged stage in the long
journey! What are we to think, when injustice rules paramount?--when
we see in this life how many are punished for their virtues, as a
set-off to the peculiar manner in which others are rewarded for their
vices?
On a certain morning, which must now occupy us, our stately lily was
lying disconsolate. Acutely suffering, and much perturbed in mind,
power of judging and weighing all agog, O'Tei crouched on the mat of
her favourite summer-house, watching the swaying waves, yet seeing
nothing; on her finely-chiselled features a grey pallor.
As a rule, the misery through which her bearers carried her was chary
of complaint, for the poor folk had room in their sorrowing hearts for
pity for their solitary lady; but on this morning she had come on such
a scene of anguish that she stopped her kago and alighted. The
housewife was tearing her dishevelled hair, and wringing hands, and
writhing her tortured body, while a young family stood grouped around
in varied attitudes of woe. What could this mean? The house was of the
better kind; there was rice in the brazen pot; unless she was
mistaken, it was the dwelling of one of the elders.
Yes. It was the dwelling of an elder--was--who never would dwell there
more--was dead now, probably. He had dared to go to Ki[^y]oto, and
make one of a set of insolent varlets who had presumed to waylay their
lord, despite of warnings, and, with brow in dust, present a written
prayer. His lord had resented the impertinence, had incarcerated him
and his audacious fellows, with a view to making an example of such
wretches by an end of exquisite torment. For him it was not so bad,
for he would shuffle out of yet another life--one more of that dreary
series so many of which have yet to be endured before we reach
Nirvana. But what of his wife and family without the breadwinner? Like
a faithful spouse, she had borne many children; how now was she to
fill their mouths? Would the dear and noble lady vouchsafe to lend a
hand, and implore her husband's clemency?
O'Tei turned deathly pale, and, catching her breath painfully, leant
against the screen. She would indeed have fallen, if one of the
kago-bearers had not presumed to catch and hold her in his arms. Her
lord! How long was it ago that she had disdainfully given up all hope
of influencing him? She was weak and wrong. It was a crime--she saw it
now--but too late--too late! That separating thicket had grown so
dense, that there was no hewing a passage through it. If the harrowed
wife of the victim was suffering, how much more the sensitive young
chatelaine, whose nerves were so highly strung! The man, if he
perished, was a martyr in the cause of right. Each new delinquency of
the Hojo was a fresh hammer-stroke on his wife's heart.
Out of his sight, O'Tei strove to forget his wickedness, the full
measure of which she had learned to guess by this time. On her
frequent visits to the temple she prayed with sweat of agony for his
reformation, for the repentance of him who, alas! was bone of her bone
for life. She was his--part and parcel of himself--and yet she saw,
with a sickening horror and sense of self-upbraiding, that he grew
worse and worse--more cruel and more reckless,--while she, with folded
hands, looked on. In a vague, terror-stricken way she wondered what
grisly phantom lurked behind the veil, what vengeance would fall from
heaven. And might not this moral descent be in some sort her own
doing, in that, while interference might have been of service, she had
been too hurt and proud to attempt to stay his course? If he had no
conscience, she had enough for both. Oh, for a dose of Tomoye's
spirit,--of the unbending pluck of the militant grandam concerning
whom the samurai were always trolling ditties.
But no!--the warriors were right--she unfitted for her station. Her
burthen--the sooner the better--might crush and kill her. She quailed
at the thought of ever seeing again the tyrant in whom there were no
bowels of compassion, and who seemed to take delight in augmenting the
calamities of his fellows.
Herself as grey as a corpse, she bent down and kissed the writhing
woman, and without a word (how could she console her?), with parched
lips and catching breath, swung away to her garden on the mountain.
What was she to do? What could she do? If, by giving over her own
tender body to the pincers of the torturers, she could assuage the
growing trouble of the people, how gladly would she bare her breast.
But no--she was condemned to sit and watch, with idle hands and dread
forebodings, a horror-stricken spectator of her husband's deepening
sin, and the lingering anguish of his victims.
What was she to do? What could she do? If madness might be wooed, it
would bring oblivion and relief. Who would have thought that a
delicate and tender girl, so little used to suffering, could bear such
pain and live? As she lay upon the mat, she revolved that unanswerable
question which worries a good many of us. What could she have done in
a previous phase of existence to make the present one so exceedingly
painful? To lie thus in dumb pain was intolerable: action of some kind
was imperative. She would go to the temple and pray, and ask the
advice of Masago.
Turning towards the other hill, she was astonished to see on the
top of the long flight of steps a man--by his dress apparently a
noble--who slowly descended, and mounting a horse, trotted in the
direction of the summer-house. Her heart gave a great bound, then
seemed to stand still. Could it be? Yes! it was Sampei--returned home
at last--and he was coming here!
Yes, it was the victorious Sampei, who, having duly visited his
mother, was coming to see his sister. For she was really his sister
now; and he had heard from the Abbess an account of the condition of
things, which, though guarded, pleased him little. When far away, he
had received the news of the marriage, he had been amazed, and
laughed; annoyed somewhat, he scarcely knew why. To think that the
destined husband should be his own brother! And then he had felt grave
doubts as to the success of the union; and then, light and
_debonnaire_, and occupied with much cheerful splitting of skulls, he
had put the subject from him. He was no marrying man--not he. His
sword was his true love; to others he had not the smallest intention
of being true. To cull the most fragrant flowers while the sun was
shining--as many and as various as possible--and get others when they
were faded, was his soldierly but scarcely moral code of ethics. And
yet, while gaily slaughtering the Coreans, he had time now and then to
hope that all was right at home, and that his white fawn was happy;
and it was gruesome now on his return to discover that she was
wretched instead of happy,--his half-suspected previsions justified.
He flung his bridle to his betto, and striding with the firm and
springy step of buoyant youth through the plantation of cherries and
maples, stood still to take in the scene. And a pretty picture it was
that his vision lighted on. An awning of fine blue linen, broidered
with deer, in memory of beloved Nara, cast a shadow upon the mats of
the summer-house, which were further shaded by a natural cascade of
wisteria. Around the raised platform were tall camellias in full blow,
scarlet and white; and within, the carved but unvarnished woodwork
showed its grain like the pattern on watered silk. A low gilt screen,
painted with chrysanthemums, divided the floor in two, in the front
part of which was a firebox in finest bronze, representing a dragon
coiled round a blossom of the lotus. A long flat _koto_, with thirteen
strings, encrusted with gold and ebony, stood close by; and on the
yellow matting, half raised expectantly, reclined the young mistress
of the hermitage. The eyes of Sampei moistened with unaccustomed
tears, and a knot rose in his throat as he contemplated his old ally.
She was matured--fairer than of yore, paler and thinner, and more
delicately beautiful; but there was that about her that seemed too
ethereal, stamped with predestined misfortune. He seemed to be aware
of a something, reflected in light from the glow of another world. The
roundness of youth was gone. The arch wayward tricks of irresponsible
maidenhood had given place to a reserved and haughty dignity that was
unnaturally still. The eyes were unduly large, and, surrounded with
bistre circles, glistened with feverish lustre. Sampei's affectionate
gaze could mark all this, though the winsome face was brightened now
with the radiance of a glad surprise.
Sampei, bluff and careless though he generally was, could not but
trace with sinking of the heart the line of precocious sorrow ploughed
large and deep upon it. The coils of massive hair appeared heavier and
more sombre by contrast with the ivory whiteness of the skin, slightly
relieved as they were by a bunch of fresh red blossoms, which the
loving hand of a tirewoman had tucked under the comb.
In accordance with the exigencies of her rank, she wore four
under-robes of silk, the edges of which, in stripes of varied colour,
showed at throat and open sleeves, while the ample folds of the heavy
and voluminous outer robe, broidered in a design of fans, were held
together by a magnificent obi--pale brown, bedizened with black
butterflies.
Never had Sampei, whom a wide experience had made an expert in such
matters, looked on a more complete embodiment of patrician womanhood.
Strange! He, so well versed in female charms, so used to the spectacle
of beauty in all ranks and phases, felt his heart throb in quite
unaccustomed fashion, and yearn unaccountably towards his sister.