by Arthur Waley
Summit on summit upward to the sky.
And there they planned to set
The Mother-Temple, Hall of Proven Truth;
And here the Daughter-Shrine,
The Treasury of Kan.
Then far to northward aiming
To a white cliff they came, where from the clouds
Swift waters tumbled down.
Then straightway they remembered
The Hill of Nachi, where the Dragon God,
Winged water-spirit, pants with stormy breath
And fills the woods with awe.
Here reverently they their Nachi set.
The Bonze Shunkwan mounted to a high place;
His eye wandered north, south, east and west.
A thousand, thousand concepts filled his heart.
Suddenly a black cloud rose before him,
A heavy cloak of cloud;
And a great rock crashed and fell into the sea.
Then the great Bonze in his meditation remembered
An ancient song:
"The wind scattered a flower at Buddha's feet;
A boulder fell and crushed the fish of the pool.
Neither has the wind merit, nor the boulder blame;
They know not what they do."
"The Five Limbs are a loan," he cried, "that must be repaid;
A mess of earth, water, air, fire.
And the heart—void, as the sky; shapeless, substanceless!
Being and non-being
Are but twin aspects of all component things.
And that which seems to be, soon is not.
But only contemplation is eternal."
So the priest: proudly pillowed
On unrepentance and commandments broke.
AMA
(THE FISHER-GIRL)
By Seami
FUJIWARA NO FUSAZAKI was the child of a fisher-girl. He was taken from her in infancy and reared at the Capital. When he grew to he a man he went to Shido to look for her. On the shore he met with a fisher-girl who, after speaking for some while with him, gave him a letter, and at once vanished with the words: "I am the ghost of the fisher-girl that was your mother." The letter said:
Ten years and three have passed since my soul fled to the Yellow Clod. Many days and months has the abacus told since the white sand covered my bones. The Road of Death is dark, dark; and none has prayed for me.
I am your mother. Lighten, oh lighten, dear son, the great darkness that has lain round me for thirteen years!
Then Fusazaki prayed for his mother's soul and she appeared before him born again as a Blessed Dragon Lady of Paradise, carrying in her hand the scroll of the Hokkekyō (see Plate II), and danced the Hayamai, the "swift dance," of thirteen movements. On the Kongo stage the Dragon Lady is dressed as a man; for women have no place in Paradise.
TAKE NO YUKI
(SNOW ON THE BAMBOOS)
By Seami
PERSONS
TONO-I
TSUKIWAKA (his son by the first wife)
HIS FIRST WIFE
TSUKIWAKA'S SISTER
HIS SECOND WIFE
A SERVANT
CHORUS
TONO-I
My name is Tono-i. I live in the land of Echigo. I had a wife; but for a trifling reason I parted from her and put her to live in the House of the Tall Pines, which is not far distant from here. We had two children; and the girl I sent to live with her mother at the House of the Tall Pines, but the boy, Tsukiwaka, I have here with me, to be the heir of all my fortune.
And this being done, I brought a new wife to my home. Now it happens that in pursuance of a binding vow I must be absent for a while on pilgrimage to a place not far away. I will now give orders for the care of Tsukiwaka, my son. Is my wife there?
SECOND WIFE
What is it?
TONO-I
I called you to tell you this: in pursuance of a vow I must be absent on pilgrimage for two or three days. While I am away, I beg you to tend my child Tsukiwaka with loving care. Moreover I must tell you that the snow falls very thick in these parts, and when it piles up upon the bamboos that grow along the four walls of the yard, it weighs them down and breaks them to bits.
I don't know how it will be, but I fancy there is snow in the air now. If it should chance to fall, pray order my servants to brush it from the leaves of the bamboos.
SECOND WIFE
What? A pilgrimage, is it? Why then go in peace, and a blessing on your journey. I will not forget about the snow on the bamboos. But as for Tsukiwaka, there was no need for you to speak. Do you suppose I would neglect him, however far away you went?
TONO-I
No, indeed. I spoke of it, because he is so very young...But now I must be starting on my journey. (He goes.)
SECOND WIFE
Listen, Tsukiwaka! Your father has gone off on a pilgrimage. Before he went, he said something to me about you. "Tend Tsukiwaka with care," he said. There was no need for him to speak. You must have been telling him tales about me, saying I was not kind to you or the like of that. You are a bad boy. I am angry with you, very angry! (She turns away.)
TSUKIWAKA then runs to his mother at the House of the Tall Pines. A lyric scene follows in which TSUKIWAKA and his mother (the CHORUS aiding) bewail their lot.
Meanwhile the SECOND WIFE misses TSUKIWAKA.
SECOND WIFE
Where is Tsukiwaka? What can have become of him? (She calls for a servant.) Where has Tsukiwaka gone off to?
SERVANT
I have not the least idea.
SECOND WIFE
Why, of course! I have guessed. He took offence at what I said to him just now and has gone off as usual to the Tall Pines to blab to his mother. How tiresome! Go and tell him that his father has come home and has sent for him; bring him back with you.
SERVANT
I tremble and obey. (He goes to the "hashigakari" and speaks to TSUKIWAKA and the FIRST WIFE.) The master has come back and sent for you, Master Tsukiwaka! Come back quickly!
FIRST WIFE
What? His father has sent for him? What a pity; he comes here so seldom. But if your father has sent for you, you must go to him. Come soon again to give your mother comfort!
(The SERVANT takes TSUKIWAKA/ back to the SECOND WIFE.)
SERVANT
Madam, I have brought back Master Tsukiwaka.
SECOND WIFE
What does this mean, Tsukiwaka? Have you been blabbing again at the House of the Tall Pines? Listen! Your father told me before he went away that if it came on to snow, I was to tell someone to brush the snow off the bamboos round the four walls of the yard.
It is snowing very heavily now. So be quick and brush the snow off the bamboos. Come now, take off your coat and do it in your shirt-sleeves.
(The boy obeys. The CHORUS describes the "sweeping of the bamboos." It grows colder and colder.)
CHORUS
The wind stabbed him, and as the night wore on,
The snow grew hard with frost; he could not brush it away.
"I will go back," he thought, and pushed at the barred gate.
"Open!" he cried, and hammered with his frozen hands.
None heard him; his blows made no sound.
"Oh the cold, the cold! I cannot bear it.
Help, help for Tsukiwaka!"
Never blew wind more wildly!
(TSUKIWAKA falls dead upon the snow.)
The servant finds him there and goes to the House of the Tall Pines to inform the mother. A scene of lament follows in which mother, sister and chorus join. The father comes home and hears the sound of weeping. When he discovers the cause, he is reconciled with the first wife (the second wife is not mentioned again), and owing to their pious attitude, the child returns to life.
TORI-OI
By Kongo Yagorō
Bears a strong resemblance to Take no Yuki.
The date of the author is unknown.
A CERTAIN lord goes up to the city to settle a lawsuit, leaving his steward in charge
of his estate. In his absence the steward grows overbearing in his manner towards his mistress and her litttle son, Hanawaka, finally compelling them to take part in the arduous labor of "bird-scaring," rowing up and down the river among the rice-fields, driving away the birds that attack the crop.
YUYA
TAIRA NO MUNEMORI had long detained at the Capital his mistress Yuya, whose aged mother continually besought him to send back her daughter to her for a little while, that she might see her before she died. In the illustration she is shown reading a letter in which her mother begs her to return.
Munemori insisted that Yuya should stay with him till the Spring pageants were over; but all their feasting and flower-viewing turned to sadness, and in the end he let Yuya go home.
TANGO-MONOGURUI
By I-ami
THERE are several plays which describe the fatal anger of a father on discovering that his child has no aptitude for learning. One of these, Nakamitsu or Manjū, has been translated by Chamberlain. The Tango-Monogurui, a similar play, has usually been ascribed to Seami, but Seami in his Works says that it is by a certain I-ami. The father comes on to the stage and, after the usual opening, announces that he has sent a messenger to fetch his son, whom he has put to school at a neighboring temple. He wishes to see what progress the boy is making.,
FATHER (to his SERVANT)
I sent someone to bring Master Hanamatsu back from the temple. Has he come yet?
SERVANT
Yes, sir. He was here last night.
FATHER
What? He came home last night, and I heard nothing about it?
SERVANT
Last night he had drunk a little too much, so we thought it better not to say that he was here.
FATHER
Oho! Last night he was tipsy, was he? Send him to me.
(The SERVANT brings HANAMATSU.)
Well, you have grown up mightily since I saw you last.
I sent for you to find out how your studies are progressing. How far have you got?
HANAMATSU
I have not learnt much of the difficult subjects. Nothing worth mentioning of the Sūtras or Shastras or moral books. I know a little of the graduses and Eight Collections of Poetry; but in the Hokke Scripture I have not got to the Law-Master Chapter, and in the Gusha-shastra I have not got as far as the Seventh Book.
FATHER
This is unthinkable! He says he has not learnt anything worth mentioning. Pray, have you talents in any direction?
SERVANT (wishing to put in a good word for the boy)
He's reckoned a wonderful hand at the chop-sticks and drum.*
FATHER (angrily)
Be quiet! Is it your child I was talking of?
SERVANT
No, sir, you were speaking of Master Hanamatsu.
FATHER
Now then, Hanamatsu. Is this true? Very well then; just listen quietly to me. These childish tricks—writing odes, capping verses and the like are not worth anything. They're no more important than playing ball or shooting toy darts. And as for the chop-sticks and drum—they are the sort of instruments street urchins play on under the Spear* at festival-time. But when I ask about your studies, you tell me that in the Hokke you have not got to the Law-Master Chapter, and in the Gusha-shastra you have not reached the Seventh Book. Might not the time you spent on the chopsticks have been better employed in studying the Seventh Book? Now then, don't excuse yourself! Those who talk most do least. But henceforth you are no son of mine. Be off with you now!
(The boy hesitates, bewildered.)
Well, if you can't get started by yourself I must help you.
(Seizes him by the arm, and thrusts him off the stage.)
In the next scene Hanamatsu enters accompanied by a pious ship's captain, who relates that he found the lad on the point of drowning himself, but rescued him, and, taking him home, instructed him in the most recondite branches of knowledge, for which he showed uncommon aptitude; now he is taking him back to Tango to reconcile him with his father.
At Tango they learn that the father, stricken with remorse, has become demented and is wandering over the country in search of his son.
Coming to a chapel of Manjushri, the captain persuades the lad to read a service there, and announces to the people that an eminent and learned divine is about to expound the scriptures. Among the worshippers comes an eccentric character whom the captain is at first unwilling to admit.
MADMAN
Even madmen can school themselves for a while. I will not rave while the service is being read.
CAPTAIN
So be it. Then sit down here and listen quietly. (To HANAMATSU. )All the worshippers have come. You had better begin the service at once.
HANAMATSU (describing his own actions)
Then because the hour of worship had come
The Doctor mounted the pulpit and struck the silence-bell;
Then reverently prayed:
Let us call on the Sacred Name of Shäkyamuni, once incarnate;
On the Buddhas of the Past, the Present and the Time to Come.
To thee we pray, Avalokita, Lord of the Ten Worlds;
And all Spirits of Heaven and Earth we invoke.
Praised be the name of Amida Buddha!
MADMAN (shouting excitedly)
Amida! Praise to Amida!
CAPTAIN
There you go! You promised to behave properly, but now are disturbing† the whole congregation by your ravings. I never heard such senseless shouting.
(A lyrical dialogue follows full of poetical allusions, from which it is apparent that the MADMAN is crying to Amida to save a child's soul.)
CAPTAIN
Listen, Madman! The Doctor heard you praying for a child's soul. He wishes you to tell him your story.
The father and son recognize one another. The son flings himself down from the pulpit and embraces his father. They go home together, attributing their reunion to the intervention of Manjushrî, the God of Wisdom.
IKKAKU SENNIN
(THE ONE-HORNED RISHI)
A Rishi lived in the hills near Benares. Under strange circumstances* a roe bore him a son whose form was human, save that a single horn grew on his forehead, and that he had stag's hoofs instead of feet. He was given the name Ekashringa, "One-horn."
One day it was raining in the hills. Ekashringa slipped and hurt himself, for his hoofs were ill-suited to his human frame. He cursed the rain, and owing to his great merit and piety his prayer was answered. No rain fell for many months.
The King of Benares saw that the drought would soon bring famine. He called together his counsellors, and one of them told him the cause of the disaster. The King published a proclamation promising half of his kingdom to any who could break the Rishi's spell. Then the harlot Shanta came to the King and said, "I will bring you this Rishi riding him pickaback!"
She set out for the mountains, carrying fruit and wine. Having seduced the Rishi, she persuaded him to follow her to Benares. Just outside the town she lay down, saying that she was too tired to go a step further. "Then I will carry you pickaback," said the Rishi.
And so Shanta fulfilled her promise.
In the Noh play (which is by Komparu Zembo Motoyasu 14531532) the Rishi has overpowered the Rain-dragons, and shut them up in a cave. Shanta, a noble lady of Benares, is sent to tempt him. The Rishi yields to her and loses his magic power. There comes a mighty rumbling from the cave.
CHORUS
Down blows the mountain wind with a wild gust,
The sky grows dark,
The rock-cave quakes,
Huge boulders crash on every side;
The dragons' forms appear.
IKKAKU
Then the Rishi in great alarm—
CHORUS
Then the Rishi in great alarm
Pursued them with a sharp sword.
And the Dragon King
Girt with the armor of wrath,
Waving a demon blade,
Fought wi
th him for a little while.
But the Rishi had lost his magic.
Weaker and weaker he grew, till at last he lay upon the ground.
Then the Dragon King joyfully
Pierced the dark clouds.
Thunder and lightning filled
The pools of Heaven, and fast
The great rain fell; the wide floods were loosed.
Over the white waves flying,
The white waves that rise,
Homeward he hastens
To the Dragon City of the sea.
YAMAUBA
(THE DAME OF THE MOUNTAINS)
Revised By Komparu Zenchiku Ujinobu
from an original By Seami
YAMAUBA is the fairy of the mountains, which have been under her care since the world began. She decks them with snow in winter, with blossoms in spring; her task carrying her eternally from hill to valley and valley to hill. She has grown very old. Wild white hair hangs down her shoulders; her face is very thin.
There was a courtesan of the Capital who made a dance representing the wanderings of Yamauba. It had such success that people called this courtesan "Yamauba" though her real name was Hyakuma.
