CHUSHINGURA

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ACT I.

Though there may be delicate food, we cannot relish it unless we taste it, and so, when peace has been restored, the loyalty and valour of gallant warriors remain unrevealed, like the stars which are hidden from view by day, but appear at night scattered through the heavens. And here is an instance in point.

Now peace reigns over the land. It is the latter part of the second month of the first year of the Era Ryaku-o.[1] The Lord Shogun Ashikaga Takauji[2] has overthrown Nitta Yoshisada[3] and has built a palace in Kyoto. His virtuous rule has spread in all directions and the whole nation bows before his might as

the grass before the wind. In the glory of his power, he has raised a Shrine to Hachiman at Tsurugaoka, which being completed, his younger brother, Lord Ashikaga Sahyoe-no-Kami Tadayoshi, has arrived at Kamakura as his deputy to celebrate its opening. Kono Musashi-no-Kami Moronao, Governor of Kamakura, haughty and overweening, and the officers appointed to receive the noble guest, Wakasanosuke Yasuchika, the younger brother of Momonoi Harima-no-Kami, and Enya Hangwan Takasada, Lord of Hakushu, they all sit in state in the curtained front of the Shrine.

Yoshitada. How now, Moronao? In this box is laid the helmet bestowed by the Emperor Godaigo[4] upon Nitta Yoshisada, who was lately overthrown by my brother Takauji. Enemy as he was, still Yoshisada was a lineal descendant of the Seiwa Genji[5]; and the helmet, though it was thrown away, cannot be left unheeded. And my brother commands us to place it in the treasure-house of this Shrine.

Moronao. I am surprised at my lord’s words. If we must respect Nitta’s helmet because he was a descendant of the Emperor Seiwa, there are many daimyo and shomyo [6] under my lord’s standard who are of the Seiwa Genji line. I think it not well to treasure the helmet.

Wakasanosuke. Nay, I do not agree with you. It seems to me that this is a stratagem of my Lord Takauji to strike those adherents of Nitta who have escaped death with admiration at His Highness’s benevolent virtue and make them surrender of their own accord. You are overhasty in opposing it.

Moronao. You are presumptuous to call me overhasty. When Yoshisada died in battle, forty-seven helmets lay scattered around his corse. We do not know which of them was his; and if we treasure what we believe to have been his and afterwards find that it was the wrong one, great will be our shame. We have no need for the opinion of a stripling like you; keep your distance.

Recitative. Secure in his lord’s favour, he speaks with arrogance, and Wakasanosuke glares at him with angry eyes. Enya sees his look.

Hangwan. Though there is truth in my Lord Moronao’s words, still what Lord Momonoi says is a stratagem which we should employ in time of peace. We submit, then, to the wise decision of my Lord Tadayoshi, who is great both in war and peace.

Recitative. Tadayoshi looks pleased.

Tadayoshi. As I thought you would say so, I have summoned for the purpose Enya’s wife. Call her forth.

Recitative. Soon after the order is given, appears Kaoyo, the wife of Lord Enya, bare-footed on the sand of the approach to the Shrine; the skirt of her over-dress sweeps the ground like the sacred broom of the Shrine; lightly powdered and beautiful as a jewel, she bows to the ground at a distance. Moronao, a lover of women, calls out to her.

Moronao. My Lord Enya’s consort, Lady Kaoyo, you must be fatigued with waiting so long. His Highness has summoned you; pray, come nearer.

Tadayoshi. I have summoned you for this. As the Emperor Godaigo bestowed on Yoshisada the helmet His Majesty wore in the capital during the war of the Genko Era[7], we have no doubt that Nitta donned it in his last hour. But no one here can identify it. You, I have heard, were at the time one of the twelve maids of honour and were in charge of the armoury. You, surely, must know the helmet; and if you remember it, come, identify it.

Recitative. To a woman he gives his order gently; and softly she answers.

Kaoyo. Gracious is my lord’s command. His Majesty’s helmet have I held in my hands many a night and morning. It was bestowed upon Yoshisada, together with a rare incense called Ranjatai. It was I, Kaoyo, who handed it to him. Upon receiving the gift, he said, “Man lives for only one generation, but his name endures for ever. When I go forth to die in battle, I will, before I put on the helmet, burn all this incense in its inside so that it may leave its perfume on my hair. If, then, Your Majesty hears that the enemy has taken a rare-scented head, know that Yoshisada has fought his last.” And I do not think he has belied his word.

Recitative. Hanging upon her words, Moronao who has designs upon her, listens with dilated nostrils.

Tadayoshi. Clear indeed is Kaoyo’s answer. As I thought such would be the case, I have had the forty-seven helmets that lay scattered put in this box. Now examine them.

Recitative. At these words the attendants bend their hips and unlock the box. Impatient to see the helmets, Kaoyo approaches boldly and without fear. She sees many a noted Kamakura helmet of divers shapes. The helmet-signs differ with the fashion of the Illustration: Kaoyo standing, Tadayoshi seated families. Some are plain, and others are without camail for ease in bending the bow. Among these many which vary with the tastes of their wearers appears at last a five-plated helmet with a dragon-head. Before Kaoyo can say that this is the one they seek, the scent of the rare incense pervades all around.

Kaoyo. This is Yoshisada’s helmet which I have often held in my hands.

Recitative. She brings it forward, and her word is taken.

Tadayoshi. Let Enya and Momonoi place it in the treasure-house. Come this way.

Recitative. He rises, and dismissing Kaoyo, passes by the steps. Enya and Momonoi follow within. Instantly Kaoyo, also, prepares to go.

Kaoyo. Lord Moronao, you will remain a little longer, and when your arduous duties are over, you will go home; but I, who have been dismissed, must not stay longer. I take my leave.

Recitative. But as she rises, Moronao approaches and holds her by the sleeve.

Moronao. Nay, wait; I pray you, wait. I meant, as soon as my duties are over to-day, to call at your house, for I have something to show you. But Lord Tadayoshi who happily summoned you here to-day, is as a god who has brought us together. As you know, I take pleasure in composing poetry, and have asked Yoshida no Kenko[8] to be my teacher. We exchange letters daily. Here is a letter which I was going to ask him to send to you; I would gladly hear your answer from your lips.

Recitative. He slips from his sleeve to hers a letter tied in a knot. She starts when she sees it is a love-letter which is out of keeping with his aged face. But if she openly puts him to shame, her husband’s name will become common talk. Shall she take it home and show it to her husband? No, no; if Lord Enya feels resentment, a quarrel or other evil consequences may follow. So, without a word, she drops the letter on the ground. Loth to let it be seen by others, Moronao takes it up.

Moronao.

Until you give me a definite answer and a favourable, I will never cease to press my suit. Here am I, Moronao, in whose power it is to make the whole country rise or fall; and whether I kill Enya or let him live, it depends only upon Kaoyo’s will. Am I not right?

Recitative. Kaoyo can answer with naught but tears. At this moment Wakasanosuke chances to enter, and perceives at once that Moronao is, as is his wont, behaving outrageously.

Wakasanosuke. Lady Kaoyo, are you not yet gone? By remaining after you have been dismissed, you are disobeying His Highness. You had better go home at once.

Recitative. When she is thus urged to go home, Moronao sees that Wakasanosuke has guessed what he has been doing; still, he shows a brazen front and answers back.

Moronao. You are again presumptuous. When she may go, I will tell her so myself. Kaoyo, Enya’s wife, has besought me to see that her husband performs his duties without any mishap. That is as it should be. Even a daimyo’s wife acts thus. You, of low position as you are, to whom do you owe your pittance of a stipend? So precarious is your fortune that a word of mine could reduce you to beggary. And still do you call your-self a samurai?

Recitative. He abuses him in revenge for his interference. Bursting with anger, Wakasanosuke grasps the hilt of his sword with such fierce force as threatens to crush it; but he recollects that he is in front of the Shrine and in His Highness’s train, and he restrains himself; and yet, one word more, and he will cut him down. Attendants enter announcing His Highness’s return and clear the way. He is compelled to forgo his revenge for the moment; but he is bursting with indignation. Lucky in his evil course, Moronao escapes death; and Enya, who little dreams that he will be his enemy on the morrow, brings up the rear of the procession. Lord Tadayoshi walks with quiet dignity; and his stately bearing is like the dragon frontlet of the helmet which has been placed in the treasure-house of the Shrine.