CHAPTER III: THE BAMBOO-CUTTER AND THE MOON-MAIDEN

The Coming of the Lady Kaguya

Long ago there lived an old bamboo-cutter by the name of Sanugi no

Miyakko. One day, while he was busy with his hatchet in a grove of

bamboos, he suddenly perceived a miraculous light, and on closer

inspection discovered in the heart of a reed a very small creature of

exquisite beauty. He gently picked up the tiny girl, only about four

inches in height, and carried her home to his wife. So delicate was

this little maiden that she had to be reared in a basket.

Now it happened that the Bamboo-cutter continued to set about his

business, and night and day, as he cut down the reeds, he found gold,

and, once poor, he now amassed a considerable fortune.

The child, after she had been but three months with these simple

country folk, suddenly grew in stature to that of a full-grown maid;

and in order that she should be in keeping with such a pleasing,

if surprising, event, her hair, hitherto allowed to flow in long

tresses about her shoulders, was now fastened in a knot on her head.

In due season the Bamboo-cutter named the girl the Lady Kaguya, or

"Precious-Slender-Bamboo-of-the-Field-of-Autumn." When she had been

named a great feast was held, in which all the neighbours participated.

The Wooing of the "Precious-Slender-Bamboo-of-the-Field-of-Autumn"

"When a woman is somewhat fairer than the crowd

of women how greatly do men long to gaze upon her

beauty!"--_Taketori_.

Now the Lady Kaguya was of all women the most beautiful, and

immediately after the feast the fame of her beauty spread throughout

the land. Would-be lovers gathered around the fence and lingered in

the porch with the hope of at least getting a glimpse of this lovely

maiden. Night and day these forlorn suitors waited, but in vain. Those

who were of humble origin gradually began to recognise that their

love-making was useless. But five wealthy suitors still persisted, and

would not relax their efforts. They were Prince Ishizukuri and Prince

Kuramochi, the Sadaijin Dainagon Abe no Miushi, the Chiunagon Otomo no

Miyuki, and Morotada, the Lord of Iso. These ardent lovers bore "the

ice and snow of winter and the thunderous heats of midsummer with equal

fortitude." When these lords finally asked the Bamboo-cutter to bestow

his daughter upon one of them, the old man politely explained that the

maiden was not really his daughter, and as that was so she could not be

compelled to obey his own wishes in the matter.

At last the lords returned to their mansions, but still continued

to make their supplications more persistently than ever. Even the

kindly Bamboo-cutter began to remonstrate with the Lady Kaguya, and to

point out that it was becoming for so handsome a maid to marry, and

that among the five noble suitors she could surely make a very good

match. To this the wise Kaguya replied: "Not so fair am I that I may

be certain of a man's faith, and were I to mate with one whose heart

proved fickle what a miserable fate were mine! Noble lords, without

doubt, are these of whom thou speakest, but I would not wed a man whose

heart should be all untried and unknown."

It was finally arranged that Kaguya should marry the suitor who proved

himself the most worthy. This news brought momentary hope to the five

great lords, and when night came they assembled before the house where

the maiden dwelt "with flute music and with singing, with chanting to

accompaniments and piping, with cadenced tap and clap of fan." Only the

Bamboo-cutter went out to thank the lords for their serenading. When he

had come into the house again, Kaguya thus set forth her plan to test

the suitors:

"In Tenjiku (Northern India) is a beggar's bowl of stone, which of old

the Buddha himself bore, in quest whereof let Prince Ishizukuri depart

and bring me the same. And on the mountain Horai, that towers over the

Eastern ocean, grows a tree with roots of silver and trunk of gold and

fruitage of pure white jade, and I bid Prince Kuramochi fare thither

and break off and bring me a branch thereof. Again, in the land of

Morokoshi men fashion fur-robes of the pelt of the Flame-proof Rat,

and I pray the Dainagon to find me one such. Then of the Chiunagon

I require the rainbow-hued jewel that hides its sparkle deep in

the dragon's head; and from the hands of the Lord Iso would I fain

receive the cowry-shell that the swallow brings hither over the broad

sea-plain."

The Begging-bowl of the Lord Buddha

The Prince Ishizukuri, after pondering over the matter of going to

distant Tenjiku in search of the Lord Buddha's begging-bowl, came to

the conclusion that such a proceeding would be futile. He decided,

therefore, to counterfeit the bowl in question. He laid his plans

cunningly, and took good care that the Lady Kaguya was informed that he

had actually undertaken the journey. As a matter of fact this artful

suitor hid in Yamato for three years, and after that time discovered in

a hill-monastery in Tochi a bowl of extreme age resting upon an altar

of Binzuru (the Succourer in Sickness). This bowl he took away with

him, and wrapped it in brocade, and attached to the gift an artificial

branch of blossom.

When the Lady Kaguya looked upon the bowl she found inside a scroll

containing the following:

"Over seas, over hills

hath thy servant fared, and weary

and wayworn he perisheth:

O what tears hath cost this bowl of

stone,

what floods of streaming tears!"

But when the Lady Kaguya perceived that no light shone from the vessel

she at once knew that it had never belonged to the Lord Buddha. She

accordingly sent back the bowl with the following verse:

"Of the hanging dewdrop

not even the passing sheen

dwells herein:

On the Hill of Darkness, the Hill

of Ogura,

what couldest thou hope to find?"

The Prince, having thrown away the bowl, sought to turn the above

remonstrance into a compliment to the lady who wrote it.

"Nay, on the Hill of Brightness

what splendour

will not pale?

Would that away from the light

of thy beauty

the sheen of yonder Bowl might

prove me true!"

It was a prettily turned compliment by a suitor who was an utter

humbug. This latest poetical sally availed nothing, and the Prince

sadly departed.

The Jewel-bearing Branch of Mount Horai

Prince Kuramochi, like his predecessor, was equally wily, and made it

generally known that he was setting out on a journey to the land of

Tsukushi in quest of the Jewel-bearing Branch. What he actually did

was to employ six men of the Uchimaro family, celebrated craftsmen,

and secure for them a dwelling hidden from the haunts of men, where

he himself abode, for the purpose of instructing the craftsmen as to

how they were to make a Jewel-bearing Branch identical with the one

described by the Lady Kaguya.

When the Jewel-bearing Branch was finished, he set out to wait upon the

Lady Kaguya, who read the following verse attached to the gift:

"Though it were at the peril

of my very life,

without the Jewel-laden Branch

in my hands never again

would I have dared to return!"

The Lady Kaguya looked sadly upon this glittering branch, and listened

without interest to the Prince's purely imaginative story of his

adventures. The Prince dwelt upon the terrors of the sea, of strange

monsters, of acute hunger, of disease, which were their trials upon the

ocean. Then this incorrigible story-teller went on to describe how they

came to a high mountain rising out of the sea, where they were greeted

by a woman bearing a silver vessel which she filled with water. On the

mountain were wonderful flowers and trees, and a stream "rainbow-hued,

yellow as gold, white as silver, blue as precious _ruri_ (lapis

lazuli); and the stream was spanned by bridges built up of divers gems,

and by it grew trees laden with dazzling jewels, and from one of these

I broke off the branch which I venture now to offer to the Lady Kaguya."

No doubt the Lady Kaguya would have been forced to believe this

ingenious tale had not at that very moment the six craftsmen appeared

on the scene, and by loudly demanding payment for the ready-made

Jewel-Branch, exposed the treachery of the Prince, who made a hasty

retreat. The Lady Kaguya herself rewarded the craftsmen, happy, no

doubt, to escape so easily.

The Flameproof Fur-Robe

The Sadaijin (Left Great Minister) Abe no Miushi commissioned a

merchant, by the name of Wokei, to obtain for him a fur-robe made from

the Flame-proof Rat, and when the merchant's ship had returned from

the land of Morokoshi it bore a fur-robe, which the sanguine Sadaijin

imagined to be the very object of his desire. The Fur-Robe rested in

a casket, and the Sadaijin, believing in the honesty of the merchant,

described it as being "of a sea-green colour, the hairs tipped with

shining gold, a treasure indeed of incomparable loveliness, more to be

admired for its pure excellence than even for its virtue in resisting

the flame of fire."

The Sadaijin, assured of success in his wooing, gaily set out to

present his gift to the Lady Kaguya, offering in addition the following

verse:

"Endless are the fires of love

that consume me, yet unconsumed

is the Robe of Fur:

dry at last are my sleeves,

for shall I not see her face this day!"

At last the Sadaijin was able to present his gift to the Lady Kaguya.

Thus she addressed the Bamboo-cutter, who always seems to have been

conveniently on the scene at such times: "If this Robe be thrown amid

the flames and be not burnt up, I shall know it is in very truth the

Flame-proof Robe, and may no longer refuse this lord's suit." A fire

was lighted, and the Robe thrown into the flames, where it perished

immediately. "When the Sadaijin saw this his face grew green as

grass, and he stood there astonished." But the Lady Kaguya discreetly

rejoiced, and returned the casket with the following verse:

"Without a vestige even left

thus to burn utterly away,

had I dreamt it of this Robe of Fur.

Alas the pretty thing! far otherwise

would I have dealt with it."

The Jewel in the Dragon's Head

The Chiunagon Otomo no Miyuki assembled his household and informed his

retainers that he desired them to bring him the Jewel in the Dragon's

head.

After some demur they pretended to set off on this quest. In the

meantime the Chiunagon was so sure of his servants' success that he had

his house lavishly adorned throughout with exquisite lacquer-work, in

gold and silver. Every room was hung with brocade, the panels rich with

pictures, and over the roof were silken cloths.

Weary of waiting, the Chiunagon after a time journeyed to Naniwa and

questioned the inhabitants if any of his servants had taken boat in

quest of the Dragon. The Chiunagon learnt that none of his men had

come to Naniwa, and, considerably displeased at the news, he himself

embarked with a helmsman.

Now it happened that the Thunder God was angry and the sea ran high.

After many days the storm grew so severe and the boat was so near

sinking that the helmsman ventured to remark: "The howling of the wind

and the raging of the waves and the mighty roar of the thunder are

signs of the wrath of the God whom my lord offends, who would slay the

Dragon of the deep, for through the Dragon is the storm raised, and

well it were if my lord offered a prayer."

As the Chiunagon had been seized with "a terrible sickness," it is

not surprising to find that he readily took the helmsman's advice.

He prayed no less than a thousand times, enlarging on his folly in

attempting to slay the Dragon, and solemnly vowed that he would leave

the Ruler of the deep in peace.

The thunder ceased and the clouds dispersed, but the wind was as fierce

and strong as ever. The helmsman, however, told his master that it was

a fair wind and blew towards their own land.

At last they reached the strand of Akashi, in Harima. But the

Chiunagon, still ill and mightily frightened, vowed that they had

been driven upon a savage shore, and lay full length in the boat,

panting heavily, and refusing to rise when the governor of the district

presented himself.

When the Chiunagon at last realised that they had not been blown upon

some savage shore he consented to land. No wonder the governor smiled

when he saw "the wretched appearance of the discomfited lord, chilled

to the very bone, with swollen belly and eyes lustreless as sloes."

At length the Chiunagon was carried in a litter to his own home. When

he had arrived his cunning servants humbly told their master how they

had failed in the quest. Thus the Chiunagon greeted them: "Ye have done

well to return empty-handed. Yonder Dragon, assuredly, has kinship

with the Thunder God, and whoever shall lay hands on him to take the

jewel that gleams in his head shall find himself in peril. Myself am

sore spent with toil and hardship, and no guerdon have I won. A thief

of men's souls and a destroyer of their bodies is the Lady Kaguya,

nor ever will I seek her abode again, nor ever bend ye your steps

thitherward."

We are told, in conclusion, that when the women of his household heard

of their lord's adventure "they laughed till their sides were sore,

while the silken cloths he had caused to be drawn over the roof of his

mansion were carried away, thread by thread, by the crows to line their

nests with."

The Royal Hunt[1]

Now the fame of the Lady Kaguya's beauty reached the court, and the

Mikado, anxious to gaze upon her, sent one of his palace ladies,

Fusago, to go and see the Bamboo-cutter's daughter, and to report to

his Majesty of her excellences.

However, when Fusago reached the Bamboo-cutter's house the Lady Kaguya

refused to see her. So the palace lady returned to court and reported

the matter to the Mikado. His Majesty, not a little displeased, sent

for the Bamboo-cutter, and made him bring the Lady Kaguya to court that

he might see her, adding: "A hat of nobility, perchance, shall be her

father's reward."

The old Bamboo-cutter was an admirable soul, and mildly discountenanced

his daughter's extraordinary behaviour. Although he loved court favours

and probably hankered after so distinguished a hat, it must be said of

him that he was first of all true to his duty as a father.

When, on returning to his home, he discussed the matter with the Lady

Kaguya, she informed the old man that if she were compelled to go to

court it would certainly cause her death, adding: "The price of my

father's hat of nobility will be the destruction of his child."

The Bamboo-cutter was deeply affected by these words, and once more

set out on a journey to the court, where he humbly made known his

daughter's decision.

The Mikado, not to be denied even by an extraordinarily beautiful

woman, hit on the ingenious plan of ordering a Royal Hunt, so arranged

that he might unexpectedly arrive at the Bamboo-cutter's dwelling, and

perchance see the lady who could set at defiance the desires of an

emperor.

On the day appointed for the Royal Hunt, therefore, the Mikado entered

the Bamboo-cutter's house. He had no sooner done so than he was

surprised to see in the room in which he stood a wonderful light, and

in the light none other than the Lady Kaguya.

His Majesty advanced and touched the maiden's sleeve, whereupon she hid

her face, but not before the Mikado had caught a glimpse of her beauty.

Amazed by her extreme loveliness, and taking no notice of her protests,

he ordered a palace litter to be brought; but on its arrival the Lady

Kaguya suddenly vanished. The Emperor, perceiving that he was dealing

with no mortal maid, exclaimed: "It shall be as thou desirest, maiden;

but 'tis prayed that thou resume thy form, that once more thy beauty

may be seen."

So the Lady Kaguya resumed her fair form again. As his Majesty was

about to be borne away he composed the following verse:

"Mournful the return

of the Royal Hunt,

and full of sorrow the brooding

heart;

for she resists and stays behind,

the Lady Kaguya!"

The Lady Kaguya thus made answer:

"Under the roof o'ergrown with

hopbine

long were the years

she passed.

How may she dare to look upon

The Palace of Precious Jade?"

The Celestial Robe of Feathers

In the third year after the Royal Hunt, and in the spring-time, the

Lady Kaguya continually gazed at the moon. On the seventh month, when

the moon was full, the Lady Kaguya's sorrow increased so that her

weeping distressed the maidens who served her. At last they came to the

Bamboo-cutter, and said: "Long has the Lady Kaguya watched the moon,

waxing in melancholy with the waxing thereof, and her woe now passes

all measure, and sorely she weeps and wails; wherefore we counsel thee

to speak with her."

When the Bamboo-cutter communed with his daughter, he requested that

she should tell him the cause of her sorrow, and was informed that the

sight of the moon caused her to reflect upon the wretchedness of the

world.

During the eighth month the Lady Kaguya explained to her maids that

she was no ordinary mortal, but that her birthplace was the Capital of

Moonland, and that the time was now at hand when she was destined to

leave the world and return to her old home.

Not only was the Bamboo-cutter heart-broken at this sorrowful news, but

the Mikado also was considerably troubled when he heard of the proposed

departure of the Lady Kaguya. His Majesty was informed that at the next

full moon a company would be sent down from that shining orb to take

this beautiful lady away, whereupon he determined to put a check upon

this celestial invasion. He ordered that a guard of soldiers should be

stationed about the Bamboo-cutter's house, armed and prepared, if need

be, to shoot their arrows upon those Moonfolk, who would fain take the

beautiful Lady Kaguya away.

The old Bamboo-cutter naturally thought that with such a guard to

protect his daughter the invasion from the moon would prove utterly

futile. The Lady Kaguya attempted to correct the old man's ideas on the

subject, saying: "Ye cannot prevail over the folk of yonder land, nor

will your artillery harm them nor your defences avail against them,

for every door will fly open at their approach, nor may your valour

help, for be ye never so stout-hearted, when the Moonfolk come vain

will be your struggle with them." These remarks made the Bamboo-cutter

exceedingly angry. He asserted that his nails would turn into

talons--in short, that he would completely annihilate such impudent

visitors from the moon.

[Illustration: The Moonfolk demand the Lady Kaguya.--76]

Now while the royal guard was stationed about the Bamboo-cutter's

house, on the roof and in every direction, the night wore away. At the

hour of the Rat[2] a great glory, exceeding the splendour of the moon

and stars, shone around. While the light still continued a strange

cloud approached, bearing upon it a company of Moonfolk. The cloud

slowly descended until it came near to the ground, and the Moonfolk

assembled themselves in order. When the royal guard perceived them

every soldier grew afraid at the strange spectacle; but at length some

of their number summoned up sufficient courage to bend their bows and

send their arrows flying; but all their shafts went astray.

On the cloud there rested a canopied car, resplendent with curtains of

finest woollen fabric, and from out the car a mighty voice sounded,

saying: "Come thou forth, Miyakko Maro!"

The Bamboo-cutter tottered forth to obey the summons, and received for

his pains an address from the chief of the Moonfolk commencing with,

"Thou fool," and ending up with a command that the Lady Kaguya should

be given up without further delay.

The car floated upward upon the cloud till it hovered over the roof.

Once again the same mighty voice shouted: "Ho there, Kaguya! How long

wouldst thou tarry in this sorry place?"

Immediately the outer door of the storehouse and the inner lattice-work

were opened by the power of the Moonfolk, and revealed the Lady Kaguya

and her women gathered about her.

The Lady Kaguya, before taking her departure, greeted the prostrate

Bamboo-cutter and gave him a scroll bearing these words: "Had I been

born in this land, never should I have quitted it until the time came

for my father to suffer no sorrow for his child; but now, on the

contrary, must I pass beyond the boundaries of this world, though

sorely against my will. My silken mantle I leave behind me as a

memorial, and when the moon lights up the night let my father gaze upon

it. Now my eyes must take their last look and I must mount to yonder

sky, whence I fain would fall, meteorwise, to earth."

Now the Moonfolk had brought with them, in a coffer, a Celestial

Feather Robe and a few drops of the Elixir of Life. One of them said

to the Lady Kaguya: "Taste, I pray you, of this Elixir, for soiled has

your spirit become with the grossnesses of this filthy world."

The Lady Kaguya, after tasting the Elixir, was about to wrap up some

in the mantle she was leaving behind for the benefit of the old

Bamboo-cutter, who had loved her so well, when one of the Moonfolk

prevented her, and attempted to throw over her shoulders the Celestial

Robe, when the Lady Kaguya exclaimed: "Have patience yet awhile; who

dons yonder robe changes his heart, and I have still somewhat to say

ere I depart." Then she proceeded to write the following to the Mikado:

"Your Majesty deigned to send a host to protect your

servant, but it was not to be, and now is the misery

at hand of departing with those who have come to bear

her away with them. Not permitted was it to her to

serve your Majesty, and despite her will was it that

she yielded not obedience to the Royal command, and

wrung with grief is her heart thereat, and perchance

your Majesty may have thought the Royal will was

not understood, and was opposed by her, and so will

she appear to your Majesty lacking in good manners,

which she would not your Majesty deemed her to be,

and therefore humbly she lays this writing at the

Royal Feet. And now must she don the Feather Robe and

mournfully bid her lord farewell."

Having delivered this scroll into the hands of the captain of the

host, together with a bamboo joint containing the Elixir, the Feather

Robe was thrown over her, and in a moment all memory of her earthly

existence departed.

Then the Lady Kaguya entered the car, surrounded by the company of

Moonfolk, and the cloud rapidly rose skyward till it was lost to sight.

The sorrow of the Bamboo-cutter and of the Mikado knew no bounds.

The latter held a Grand Council, and inquired which was the highest

mountain in the land. One of the councillors answered: "In Suruga

stands a mountain, not remote from the capital, that towers highest

towards heaven among all the mountains of the land." Whereupon his

Majesty composed the following verse:

"Never more to see her!

Tears of grief overwhelm me,

and as for me,

with the Elixir of Life

what have I to do?"

Then the scroll, which the Lady Kaguya had written, together with the

Elixir, was given to Tsuki no Iwakasa. These he was commanded to take

to the summit of the highest mountain in Suruga, and, standing upon the

highest peak, to burn the scroll and the Elixir of Life.

So Tsuki no Iwakasa heard humbly the Royal command, and took with him a

company of warriors, and climbed the mountain and did as he was bidden.

And it was from that time forth that the name of Fuji (_Fuji-yama_,

'Never Dying') was given to yonder mountain, and men say that the smoke

of that burning still curls from its high peak to mingle with the

clouds of heaven.

[Footnote 1: The Fifth Quest, that of Lord Iso, is omitted. The story

is trivial and of no particular interest. Suffice it to say that Lord

Iso's search for the cowry-shell was in vain.]

[Footnote 2: Midnight until two in the morning. "Years, days, and

hours," writes Professor B. H. Chamberlain, "were all accounted as

belonging to one of the signs of the zodiac."]

Myths & Legends of Japan · 第 3 / 21 章