C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.
Age of the Prose Classics
By Japanese Literature
The Maid of Unai
I
Now in olden days the people dwelt in houses raised on platforms built out into the river Ikuta. So the girl’s father and mother, summoning to their presence the two lovers, spake thus: “Our child is pining with a love divided by the equal ardor of your worships. But to-day we intend, by whatever means, to fix her choice. One of you showeth his devotion by coming hither from a distant home; the other is our neighbor, but his love is boundless. This one and that are alike worthy of our pitying regard.” Both the lovers heard these words with respectful joy; and the father and mother continued:—“What we have further in our minds to say is this: Floating on our river is a water-bird. Draw your bows at it; and to him that shall strike it will we have the honor to present our daughter.” “Well thought!” replied the lovers twain; and drawing their bows at the same instant, one struck the bird in the head and the other in the tail, so that neither could claim to be the better marksman. Sick with love, the maiden cried out:—
While the father and mother, frantic with grief, were raving and shouting, the two lovers plunged together into the stream. One caught hold of the maiden’s foot and the other of her hand, and the three sank together and perished in the flood. Terrible was the grief of the girl’s father and mother, as, amid tears and lamentations, they lifted her body out of the water and prepared to give it burial. The parents of the two lovers likewise came to the spot, and dug for their sons graves beside the grave of the maiden. But the father and mother of him that dwelt in the same country-side raised an outcry, saying, “That he who belongs to the same land should be buried in the same place, is just. But how shall it be lawful for an alien to desecrate our soil?” So the parents of him that dwelt in Idzumi laded a junk with Idzumi earth, in which, having brought it to the spot, they laid their son. And to this day the maiden’s grave stands there in the middle, and the graves of her lovers on either side.
M
T
W
It is the 7th day of the month when people, tempted by the fineness of the weather, go out in company to pick the wakana (wild pot-herbs). The snow is off the ground, and great is the excitement amongst the ladies of the court, who have so seldom the opportunity of a country trip. What fun to watch the farmers’ wives and daughters, arrayed in all their hoarded finery, and riding in their wagons (made clean for the occasion), as they come to see the races in the court-yard of the palace. It is most diverting to observe their faces from our grated windows. How prim and proper they appear, all unconscious of the shock their dignity will get when the wagon jolts across the huge beam at the bottom of the gate, and knocks their pretty heads together, disarranging their hair, and worse still, mayhap breaking their combs. But that is after all a trifle when compared to their alarm if a horse so much as neighs. On this account the gallants of the court amuse themselves by slyly goading the horses with spear and arrow-point, to make them rear and plunge and frighten the wenches home in fear and trembling. How silly too the men-at-arms look, their foolish faces painted with dabs of white here and there upon their swarthy cheeks, like patches of snow left on a hillside from a thaw!
Then there is the 15th of the first month, when appointments for the next four years are made. How eagerly candidates for office rush here and there through falling snow and sleet, with their memorials in their hands! Some have the jaunty air and confidence of youth; but others, more experienced, are weary and dejected-looking. How the old white-headed suitors crave an audience of the ladies of the palace, and babble to them of their fitness for the places they seek! Ah! little do they suspect when they have turned their backs what mirth they have occasioned! How the ladies mimic them—whining and drawling!
“H
“Among characters differing from the above, some are too full of sentimental sweetness; whenever occasion offers them romance they become spoilt. Such would be decidedly better if they had less sentiment and more sense.
“Others again are singularly earnest—too earnest, indeed—in the performance of their domestic duty; and such, with their hair pushed back, devote themselves like household drudges to household affairs. Man, whose duties generally call him from home all the day, naturally hears and sees the social movements both of public and private life, and notices different things, both good and bad. Of such things he would not like to talk freely with strangers, but only with some one closely allied to him. Indeed, a man may have many things in his mind which cause him to smile or to grieve. Occasionally something of a political nature may irritate him beyond endurance. These matters he would like to talk over with his fair companion, that she might soothe him and sympathize with him. But a woman as above described is often unable to understand him, or does not endeavor to do so; and this only makes him more miserable. At another time he may brood over his hopes and aspirations; but he has no hope of solace. She is not only incapable of sharing these with him, but might carelessly remark, ‘What ails you?’ How severely would this try the temper of a man!
“If then we clearly see all these, the only suggestion I can make is that the best thing to do is to choose one who is gentle and modest, and strive to guide and educate her according to the best ideal we may think of. This is the best plan; and why should we not do so? Our efforts would surely not be all in vain. But no! A girl whom we thus educate, and who proves to be competent to bear us company, often disappoints us when she is left alone. She may then show her incapability, and her occasional actions may be done in such an unbecoming manner that both good and bad are equally displeasing. Are not all these against us men? Remember however that there are some who may not be very agreeable at ordinary times, yet who flash occasionally upon us with a potent and almost irresistible charm.”
Thus Sama-no-Kami, though eloquent, not having come to one point or another, remained thoughtful for some minutes, and again resumed.
“After all, as I have once observed, I can only make this suggestion: That we should not too much consider either birth or beauty, but select one who is gentle and tranquil, and consider her to be best suited for our last haven of rest. If in addition she is of fair position, and is blessed with sweetness of temper, we should be delighted with her, and not trouble ourselves to search out or notice any trifling deficiency. And the more so as, if her conscience is clear and pure, calmness and serenity of features can naturally be looked for.
“There are women who are too diffident and too reserved, and carry their generosity to such an extent as to pretend not to be aware even of such annoyances as afford them just grounds for of complaint. A time arrives when their sorrows and anxieties become greater than they can bear. Even then, however, they cannot resort to plain speaking and complain; but instead thereof they will fly away to some remote retreat among the mountain hamlets, or to some secluded spot by the seaside, leaving behind them some painful letter or despairing verses, and making themselves mere sad memories of the past….
“Worse than this, the woman—led astray perhaps by ill advice—may even be beguiled into more serious errors. In the depth of her despairing melancholy she will become a nun. Her conscience when she takes the fatal vow may be pure and unsullied, and nothing may seem able to call her back again to the world which she forsook. But as time rolls on, some household servant or aged nurse brings her tidings of the lover who has been unable to cast her out of his heart, and whose tears drop silently when he hears aught about her. Then when she hears of his affections still living, and his heart still yearning, and thinks of the uselessness of the sacrifice she has made voluntarily, she touches the hair on her forehead, and she becomes regretful. She may indeed do her best to persevere in her resolve, but if one single tear bedews her cheek she is no longer strong in the sanctity of her vow. Weakness of this kind would be in the eyes of Buddha more sinful than those offenses which are committed by those who never leave the lay circle at all, and she would eventually wander about in the ‘wrong passage.’
“But there are also women who are too self-confident and obtrusive. These, if they discover some slight inconsistency in men, fiercely betray their indignation and behave with arrogance. A man may show a little inconsistency occasionally, but yet his affection may remain; then matters will in time become right again, and they will pass their lives happily together. If therefore the woman cannot show a tolerable amount of patience, this will but add to her unhappiness. She should, above all things, strive not to give way to excitement; and when she experiences any unpleasantness, she should speak of it frankly but with moderation. And if there should be anything worse than unpleasantness, she should even then complain of it in such a way as not to irritate the man. If she guides her conduct on principles such as these, even her very words, her very demeanor, may in all probability increase his sympathy and consideration for her. One’s self-denial, and the restraint which one imposes upon one’s self, often depend on the way in which another behaves to us. The woman who is too indifferent and too forgiving is also inconsiderate. Remember, ‘The unmoored boat floats about.’ Is it not so?”
Tō-no-Chiūjiō quickly nodded assent, as he said:—“Quite true! A woman who has no strength of emotion, no passion of sorrow or of joy, can never be a holder of us. Nay, even jealousy, if not carried to the extent of undue suspicion, is not undesirable. If we ourselves are not in fault, and leave the matter alone, such jealousy may easily be kept within due bounds. But stop,” added he suddenly: “some women have to bear, and do bear, every grief that they may encounter, with unmurmuring and suffering patience.”
So said Tō-no-Chiūjiō, who implied by this allusion that his sister was a woman so circumstanced. But Genji was still dozing, and no remark came from his lips.