The Ten Foot Square Hut and Tales of the Heike Page 20

  When the Hō-ō saw it he composed these lines:

  Lo! the cherry-tree

  Leaning o'er the silent depths

  Of the garden pool

  While the fallen petals float

  On the gently rippling wave!

  Pleasant was the sound of the water as it fell from the clefts of the time-worn rocks, and the ivied walls and beetling crags would have defied the brush of the painter. When His Majesty came to the cell of the former Empress, ivy was growing on the eaves and the morning-glory was climbing up them; the hare's-foot fern and the day-lily mingled together, and here and there was a useless gourd-plant. Here was the grass that grew thick in the path of Yen Yuan, and the white goose-foot that keeps men at a distance, and here too was the rain that moistened the door of Yuan Hsien.

  The cedar boards of the roof were gaping, so that the rain, the hoar-frost, and the dew of evening vied with the moonbeams in gaining entrance, and the place appeared wellnigh uninhabitable. Behind was the mountain and in front was the moor, and the bamboo grasses rustled loudly in the wind. As is the way with those who have no friends in the world, she seldom heard any news from the Capital, but what she did hear was the cry of the monkeys as they sprang from tree to tree, and the sound of the wood-cutter's axe, for few people there were that came there.

  Then the Hō-ō called to the inmate, but there was no answer, but after a while a withered-looking old nun appeared of whom he inquired: "Whither has the former Empress deigned to go?" "Over there to the mountain to pick some flowers," was the reply. "How hard it is," said His Majesty, "that since she has thus renounced the world, she has no one to perform such services for her." "Since this fate has come upon her in accordance with the Five Precepts and the Ten Virtues," replied the nun, "why should she spare herself the austerities of mortifying her flesh?

  "In the Ingwa Kyō it is written: 'If you wish to know the cause in the former life, look at the effect in the present life; and if you wish to know the effect in the future life, look at the cause in the present one.' And if she knows the cause and effect of both past and future lives, there is nothing at all for her to lament. In former days Prince Siddartha at the age of nineteen went forth from Gaya and dwelt at the foot of Mount Dantaloka; covering himself with the leaves of trees, going up the peaks to get firewood and down into the valleys to draw water, by the merit of his austerities and mortifications at last he attained to perfect Buddha-hood."

  Looking at this nun the Hō-ō noticed that she was clothed in pieces of silk and cotton put together roughly anyhow, and thinking it strange that one of such an appearance should speak thus, he asked her who she was. For some time she could answer nothing, but only wept, but after a while she controlled her feelings and replied: "I am ashamed to say so, but I am Awa-no-Naiji, daughter of the late Shonagon Nyūdō Shinzei, and my mother was Kii-no-Nii. As your Majesty was formerly so kind to me, the reason why you do not now recognize me must be that I have become old and infirm." And she pressed her sleeve to her face, unable to control herself any longer: a sad sight indeed.

  "Can it be so?" exclaimed the Hō-ō; "and you are truly Awa-no-Naiji? I did not recognize you, but however one may think, it all seems like a dream." And his voice became choked with sobs, while the Courtiers who accompanied him were moved also, some saying that what she said was very strange, while others thought it quite natural. And the Hō-ō looked about him hither and thither, and the plants of the garden, heavy with dew, fell against the boundary wall, and the surface of the rice-fields was covered with water so that there seemed not even room for a snipe to perch; and His Majesty went to the cell of the former Empress and opened the shōji and looked in.

  In one chamber were the images of the three Bosatsu, Amida, Kwannon, and Seishi, and in the hand of Amida, who stood in the middle, was a cord of five colours. On the left was a picture of Fugen and on the right of Zendo Kwasho, beside which hung a portrait of the late Emperor. There were also eight rolls of the Hokke Kyō and nine volumes of the Amida Kyō. Instead of the perfume of orchids and musk, the smoke of incense filled the air. The merit of Vim-alakirrti, who in a nine-foot-square cell ranged in order thirty-two thousand floors and invited all the Buddhas of the Ten Quarters, could hardly have been greater.

  On the shōji were stuck texts from all the Sutras, written on coloured paper, and among them was one written at Ch'ing Li'ang Shan in China by Oe-no-Sadamoto, which ran thus: "Sounds of celestial melody are heard afar off, and from the regions of the setting sun Amida comes to save mankind." A little removed from these was a verse that seemed to be from the former Empress's own pen:

  Could I e'er have dreamed

  That from such a spot as this

  I should view the moon—

  Then, the stately Palace halls,

  Now, this lonely mountain cell.

  Then on the other side he saw what appeared to be her bed-chamber. On a bamboo pole hung her robes of hempen cloth, besides some bed-quilts of paper, and when he thought of the countless beautiful robes of silk gauze and rich brocade, wrought of the stuffs both of China and of her own land, that she had worn in the dream-like days of her dominion, the tears coursed down his Imperial cheeks, and the Courtiers of his escort also could not help moistening their sleeves at these evidences of her altered condition.

  Presently two nuns clad in dark robes were seen making their way slowly and painfully down through the rough rocks of the mountain-side, and on the Hō-ō inquiring who they were, the old nun replied: "The one carrying a basket of mountain-azaleas on her arm is the former Empress, and the one who has the load of bracken for firewood is Dainagon-no-suke-no-Tsubone, the daughter of Torikai-no-Chūnagon Kore-zane, and adopted daughter of Gōjō-no-Dainagon Kunitsuna, who was nurse to the late Emperor." As she spoke she burst into tears, and the Hō-ō and his Courtiers also applied their sleevesi to their eyes.

  The former Empress, since she was living apart from the world in this way, was so overwhelmed with shame at seeing them that she would gladly have hidden herself somewhere to avoid them, but she could not. Every evening she girt up her long sleeves to draw the water for the offering, and early every morning they were wet and bedraggled with the mountain dew. So, as she could not again retrace her steps to the mountain, neither was she able to get into her cell, the old nun came to her as she stood dumbfounded and took her basket from her hands.

  THE SIX PATHS*

  "Since you have renounced the world," said Awa-no-Naiji, "what does it matter about your appearance? I pray you come and greet His Majesty, for he will soon return." So the former Empress repressed her emotion and entered her cell. "Before my window in prayer I await the coming of Amida," she said, "and at my lowly door I look for the Saviour of mankind; but Your Majesty's gracious visit I did not expect."

  The Hō-ō, looking upon her, thus replied: "Even those who live for eighty thousand kalpas in the highest heaven of the World of Formlessness must surely die, and the denizens of the Six Celestial Worlds of Desire cannot escape the Five Changes. The wondrous bliss of the city of delight of the heavens of Indra, and the passionless serenity of the high pavilions of the mid-Dyana world of the heavens of Brahma, even these, like the rewards of dreamland or the pleasures of a vision, eternally change and dissolve, turning and revolving like the wheels of a chariot. And since the Celestial Beings are subject to the Five Changes, how shall men escape? But I hope that you still hear tidings from your old acquaintances, for you must think much of old times."

  "There are none from whom I hear anything now," replied the Empress, "except from the wives of Nobutaka and of Takafusa, who continually send me help; but in former days I never even dreamed of being assisted by people such as they." And as she spoke her tears flowed, and her lady companions also hid their faces in their sleeves.

  After a while she controlled her emotion and continued: "Though I need not say that being reduced to such a condition has been a great grief to me, yet I feel gladness on account of my enlightenment in the next world.
By the help of S'akya Muni, reverently relying on the Great Vow of Amida, I may escape the troubles of the Five Hindrances and the Three Obediences, and in this latter age purify the Six Senses, so that, fixing my hopes on the highest heaven, and fervently praying for the enlightenment of our whole family, I may await the coming of the Saving Host.

  "But the thing that I can never forget is the image of the late Emperor, and even though I try to bear his loss with patience, I cannot, for truly there is nothing that wrings the heart like parental affection. And so I pass both day and night in ceaseless prayer for his enlightenment, and this will be my guide also in the True Way." "Verily this our Empire is but a petty country," answered the Hō-ō, "but since by observance of the Ten Virtues he became its Emperor, everything must be in accordance with his will. And though all who are born in an age when the Law of Buddha has been widely spread, if they have the desire to practise the Law, without doubt will be hereafter reborn in bliss, yet when I regard your present condition, though it is in accordance with the vanity of human affairs, I cannot but be overcome with grief." And as he spoke His Majesty burst into tears.

  "Born the daughter of the Taira Chancellor," continued the former Empress, "and having become the mother of the Emperor, the whole Empire lay in the hollow of my hand. Clad in my varied robes of state, from the New Year Festival to the Year End Ceremonies I was surrounded by the Great Ministers and Courtiers in brilliant throng, even as above the clouds the Six Heavens of Desire and the Four Dhyana Heavens are encircled by eight myriads of lesser heavens.

  "Dwelling in the Seiryōden and the Shishinden behind the Jewel Curtain, I gladdened my eyes in spring with the blossoms of the Imperial Cherry Tree. In the hot months of summer I refreshed myself with crystal streams, and in the autumn I viewed the moon in the midst of my ladies. In the cold nights of winter soft bed-quilts were heaped up to warm me, and I thought that I had only to wish for the draught of immortality, and the magic potion of eternal life and youth brought from Horai the Elysian isle, for it to be immediately forthcoming. So full was my life of joy and happiness, both by day and by night, that perchance even in heaven nothing could surpass it.

  "Then in the autumn of Ju-ei when Yoshinaka came up to attack us, after setting fire to their ancient homes, our family fled from the Capital where they had lived so long, looking sadly back at the Imperial Palace. Going down to the shore of Suma and Akashi, of which I before knew only the name, we set sail on the boundless ocean, and so from island to island and from shore to shore, our sleeves wet with the salt spray by day, and the cry of the sea-birds mingling with our sobs by night, we rowed about seeking some favourable refuge, but never forgetting our ancient home. Left thus with none to help us, the anguish of the Five Changes of our dissolution came upon us. We speak of the Tain of the Grief of Parting' and the Tain of the Regret of Meeting,' and both of these in one I have known to the full. For when we came to Dazaifu in the island of Kyushu, thinking that there we might find safety for a while, Koreyoshi drove us out again, so that we could find no rest for our foot throughout all the length and breadth of the land.

  "And so the next autumn arrived, and we who had always been wont to view the moon from the sacred enclosure of the Nine-fold Palace, now spent our nights watching it on the eight-fold sea-road. And in the tenth month, seeing that the Genji had driven us from the Capital, and we had been expelled from Kyushu by Koreyoshi, so that we were like a fish in a net having no place whither to escape, the Chūjō Kiyotsune, hating to live any longer, threw himself into the sea in despair. And this was but the beginning of our afflictions. Tossing on the waves by day, and spending our sleepless nights in the ships, we had no tribute of rice with which to prepare the Imperial Food, and sometimes, when we wished to prepare it, we had no water with which to do so. Afloat on the vast ocean we could not drink its salt water, and thus we underwent all the suffering of the Preta world. Then, after we had won two fights at Muroyama and Mizushima, the spirits of our family were revived, and building a fortress: at Ichi-no-tani in the province of Settsu, all the Courtiers and Nobles doffed their court robes and clad themselves in armour for the fight, and the din of battle was incessant both by day and night, even like unto the battle of the Asuras, with Indra and his Devas.

  "Then in our flight after the defeat at Ichi-no-tani, parents were left behind by their children and wives separated from their husbands, and if we saw a fishing-boat in the offing we trembled lest it should be a ship of the enemy, while a flock of white herons in the pine-trees threw us into panic lest it should be the white flag of the Genji. And at last, when in the fight at Moji, Akama and Dan-no-ura she saw that our doom was sealed, the Nii-no-Ama weeping exclaimed: 'Now it seems our last hour has come, and in this fight there is little hope of any of the men surviving. Even if any of our distant relations are left alive they will scarcely be able to perform the services for our departed spirits, but from of old time it has been the custom to spare the women, so you must live to pray for the spirit of the Emperor, and I beg you also to say a prayer for my future salvation.'

  "And as in a dream we listened to her words, of a sudden a great wind blew, and the drifting mist came down upon us, so that the hearts of the warriors were confounded, and in the face of heaven they could do nothing. Then the Nii-no-Ama took the Emperor into her arms and went to the gunwale of the vessel, and holding him tightly in her arms, leaped with him into the sea. My eyes darkened and my heart stood still, and it is a thing I can never forget or bear to think of. And at that moment from all those who still lived there went up so great and terrible a cry, that the shrieks of all the damned burning amid the hottest hell of Avichi could not exceed it.

  "And so, after being roughly dragged out of the sea by the soldiers, as I was being sent back again to the Capital, I came to the shore of Akashi in the province of Harima. And as I chanced to fall asleep there for a space, I saw in a dream as it were our former Palace, but of greater and more surpassing beauty, and there sat our late Emperor with the Courtiers and Nobles of our house ranged about him in all their ceremonial grace and dignity; such a sight as I had not seen since we left our ancient Capital. And when I asked where this place might be, the Nii-no-Ama answered and said: 'This is called Ryūgū, the Palace of the Dragon King of the sea.'

  "'Ah, how blessed!' I replied, 'and is it then a land where is no more sorrow?' 'In the Ryu-chiku Kyō you may read,' she said, 'and never neglect to pray fervently for our future happiness.' And as she said this I awoke, and since that time I have done nothing but read the Sutras and say the prayers for their future bliss, And all this, I think, is nothing else but the Six Paths." "In China," said the Hō-ō, "Hiuen Tsiang saw the Six Paths before he received enlightenment, and in this country Nichizō Shōnin, by the power of Zō-ō Gongen, is said to have seen them. That you have been permitted to have gazed on them with mortal eyes is a blessing indeed."

  THE PASSING AWAY OF THE FORMER EMPRESS

  But the boom of the bell of Jakkō-in proclaimed the closing day as the evening sun began to sink in the west, and His Majesty, full of regret at saying farewell, set out on his return journey with tears in his eyes. The former Empress, her mind occupied in spite of herself with thoughts of her bygone days, and shedding on the sleeve of her robe the tears she could not restrain, stood watching the Imperial Procession until she could see it no more, and then, again entering her cell, she prostrated herself before the Buddha to pray that the Sacred Spirit of the former Emperor might attain complete Buddhahood, and that the departed spirits of all the Heike might quickly enter the Way of Salvation.

  In former days she turned to the east and prostrated herself before the deity of the Great Shrine of Ise and Sho-Hachimangu to pray; "That the Precious Life of the Emperor may be prolonged a thousand and ten thousand ages;" but now she sadly turned to the west and prayed: "That the Departed Spirit may be reborn in one of the Buddha Lands."

  To express the regret and affection she still felt for her past life, the Empress, wrote these
verses on the shōji of her cell:

  In my present state

  Shall I ever hear again

  Tidings of my kin?

  Those who once attended me

  In the happy days at Court.

  Since those happy times—

  Like an unsubstantial dream—

  Now are past and gone;

  So may this rough brushwood hut

  Vanish, in its turn, away.

  Moreover Tokudaiji Sadaisho Sanesada, one of the Courtiers who accompanied the Hō-ō, also wrote these lines on one of the posts of the cell:

  Once our Sovereign's face,

  Like the clear light of the moon,

  Shone on all around.

  Pent in this dark mountain vale,

  How can any moon be seen?

  And while the former Empress was weeping and meditating on the past and the future with pain mixed with pleasure, the cry of the mountain cuckoo sounded twice or thrice as the bird flew by, and suggested to her these lines:

  So you measure, too,

  With my grief your mournful voice,

  Cuckoo of the vale.

  I, like you, have come to be

  Nothing but a plaintive cry.

  Thus of the twenty survivors of the Heike who were taken alive, some were paraded through the streets and beheaded, and some were exiled to distant provinces, far from their wives and children: with the exception of Ike-no-Dainagon there was not one left living in the Capital. Of the forty and more ladies who were left nothing is known. They were taken in by their kinsfolk and looked after by their relations. With their hearts full of concealed regrets they spent their days in lamentation.