Translated by Helen Craig McCullough
GION SHO¯ JA
The sound of the Gion Sho¯ja bells echoes the imperma- nence of all things; the color of the s´a¯la flowers reveals the truth that the prosperous must decline. The proud do not endure, they are like a dream on a spring night; the mighty fall at last, they are as dust before the wind.
In a distant land, there are the examples set by Zhao Gao of Qin, Wang Mang of Han, Zhu Yi of Liang, and
Lushan of Tang, all of them men who prospered after refus- ing to be governed by their former lords and sovereigns, but who met swift destruction because they disregarded admonitions, failed to recognize approaching turmoil, and ignored the nation’s distress. Closer to home, there have been Masakado of Sho¯hei, Sumitomo of Tengyo¯, Yoshichika of Ko¯wa, and Nobuyori of Heiji, every one of them proud and mighty. But closest of all, and utterly beyond the power of mind to comprehend or tongue to relate, is the tale of Taira no Ason Kiyomori, the Rokuhara Buddhist Novice and Former Chancellor.
Kiyomori was the oldest son and heir of Punishments Minister Tadamori. He was a grandson of the Sanuki Governor Masamori, who was a descendant in the ninth generation from Prince Kazurahara of First Rank, the Minister of Ceremonial and fifth son of Emperor Kanmu. Prince Kazurahara’s son, Prince Takami, died without office or rank. The clan received the Taira surname in the time of Prince Takami’s son, Prince Takamochi, who left the imperial clan to become a subject soon after he was
named Vice-Governor of Kazusa Province. Prince Takamochi’s son was the Defense Garrison Commander Yoshimochi, who changed his name to Kunika in later life. During the six generations from Kunika to Masamori, members of the clan held provincial governorships but were not permitted to have their names on the duty-board in the Courtiers’ Hall.
THE NIGHT ATTACK AT THE COURTIERS’ HALL
But Tadamori, during his term as Bizen Governor, built a Buddhist hall thirty-three bays long, enshrined therein a thousand and one holy images, and offered it in fulfillment of Retired Emperor Toba’s vow to found a temple, the Tokujo¯juin. The dedication took place on the Thirteenth of the Third Month in the first year of Tensho¯. Orders were issued to reward Tadamori with a province, and Tajima, which happened to be available, was given to him. The delighted Retired Emperor also granted him courtier priv- ileges at the imperial palace. Tadamori set foot in the Courtiers’ Hall for the first time at the age of thirty-six.
Angered by those marks of favor, the courtiers and senior nobles conspired to attack Tadamori under cover of darkness on the night of the Gosechi Flushed Faces Banquet, which was to be held on the Twenty-Third of the Twelfth Month in that same year. But Tadamori made preparations of his own on hearing of the plot. “I am not a civil functionary,” he thought. “I belong to a warrior house. It would be a grief to my family and to me if I let myself be humiliated through lack of foresight. Besides, the book says, ‘Take care of yourself so you can serve your master.’ ” When Tadamori entered the palace, he brought along a large dagger, thrust loosely under his court robes. Turning toward a spot where the lamplight was dim, he drew the weapon with deliberation and held it alongside his head, its blade gleaming like ice. None of those present failed to mark the act. Furthermore, his retainer Sahyo¯e-no-jo¯Iesada came and sat at attention in the small side garden, dressed in a green-laced corselet under a pale green hunting robe, with a sword and an attached bowstring bag under his arm. Iesada was a son of Shinnosaburo¯ Dayu¯ Suefusa and a grandson of Assistant Director of the Carpentry Bureau Sadamitsu, who had been a member of the Taira clan.
In great perturbation, the Head Chamberlain and his staff sent a Chamberlain of Sixth Rank to rebuke Iesada. “Who is this person in an unfigured hunting robe waiting beyond the rainspout near the bell pull? You are misbe- having. Get out of there!”
Iesada kept his seat. “I have been told that my heredi- tary lord, the honorable Governor of Bizen, is to be cut down in the dark tonight. I am here to witness his fate; I cannot leave.” Perhaps the conspirators lost heart, for there was no attack that night.
Later during the same occasion, when it was Tadamori’s turn to dance as part of the informal entertainment, the
gentlemen put new words to a song, chanting, “The Ise wine bottles are vinegar jars.” Although the Taira were descended from the great Emperor Kanmu, they had not frequented the capital in the recent past, but had become
jige with roots in Ise Province. Thus the singers chanted of
Ise bottles, punning on a kind of vessel produced in that province. And because Tadamori suffered from a squint, they introduced the second pun.1 Since Tadamori had no means of retaliation, he decided to slip away before the affair ended. He went to the north corner of the Shishin- den, and there, within sight of the other courtiers, he called over a woman from the Bureau of Grounds and put the dagger in her charge. Then he left.
“How did things go?” Iesada asked. Tadamori wanted to tell him the truth, but Iesada was the kind of man who would leap into the Courtiers’ Hall itself, slashing and cutting, if he were to hear such a story, so he replied, “Nothing much happened.”
People are expected to confine themselves to amusing trifles like “White tissue paper, deep-dyed paper, corded brushes, and lacquered brushes” during the singing and dancing at Gosechi entertainments. In the relatively recent past, to be sure, there had been an incident involving the Dazaifu Provisional Governor-General Suenaka, whose swarthy complexion had caused him to be nicknamed the “Black Governor.” Suenaka had danced at a Gosechi party during his tenure as Head Chamberlain, and the singers had improvised, “Ah, black, black, black is the head! Who applied the lacquer?”2There had also been the case of the Kazan’in Former Chancellor Tadamasa. Orphaned at ten by the death of his father, Middle Counselor Tadamune, Tadamasa had been taken as a son-in-law and maintained in luxury by the late Naka-no-mikado Middle Counselor, Fujiwara no Ienari, who was then Governor of Harima Province. When Tadamasa danced during the Gosechi festivities, the singers chanted, “Can the Harima rice be a scouring rush or a muku leaf? Ah, how it polishes up the wardrobe!”3 Nothing had come of such affairs, people remarked now—but who could tell what might happen in these latter days of the Law?4It was a worrisome business. As was to have been anticipated, all the courtiers presented complaints after the Gosechi ceremonies ended. “Rules and regulations are supposed to determine who may wear a weapon to an official banquet, and who may go in and out of the palace accompanied by Escorts,” they said. “It has always been accepted that neither may be done
1Heiji can mean both “wine bottle” and “Taira clan”; sugame, “vinegar
jar” and “squint eye.”
2The song puns on to¯ (“face,” “head”) and Suenaka’s official title, kur¯odo
no to¯ (Head Chamberlain).
3“Harima rice” is a metaphor for the Governor. Scouring rushes (tokusa)
and the bristly leaves of the muku tree (Aphananthe aspera) were used as polishing agents.
4Matsudai. In Buddhist thought, a 10,000-year age of moral degenera-
tion, culminating in the disappearance of the Law (doctrine) itself. In the 12th century, it was generally believed that the age had begun around 1050.
without explicit imperial authorization. But Tadamori stationed a warrior wearing a hunting robe at the small garden outside the Courtiers’ Hall, on the pretext that the man was a hereditary retainer, and he also attended a formal banquet with a weapon at his waist. Both actions were unprecedented breaches of conduct. A person who commits a double offense must not escape punishment. Tadamori must have his name removed from the duty- board and lose his official position at once.”
In great surprise, the Retired Emperor summoned Tadamori for questioning. “To begin with,” Tadamori explained, “I had no idea that my retainer had posted himself in the small garden. But it has seemed recently that there has been some kind of plot against me. Iesada has been in my service for many years; he must have heard about it and gone there without my knowledge, in the hope of sparing me embarrassment. That is not something I could have done anything about. If Iesada deserves censure, shall I call him in and turn him over to you? Next, as regards the dagger, I gave it to one of the servants from the Bureau of Grounds to keep for me. Before judgment is rendered, would it not be well to summon the woman and see whether it is a real weapon?”
The Retired Emperor found the suggestion reasonable; he called for the dagger and inspected it. The scabbard was of black lacquer, but the blade proved to be silver foil over wood.
“He wanted to avoid humiliation, so he made a show of carrying a dagger,” the Retired Emperor said. “But he wore a wooden blade because he knew there would be complaints later. That is a sign of admirable resourcefulness—precisely what one would desire in a warrior. His retainer’s foray into the garden was the kind of thing warriors’ retainers do. Tadamori is not to blame for it.” In view of his evident approval, there was no more talk of punishment.
THE DEATH OF ETCHU¯ NO ZENJI
In reckless disregard of their lives, the warriors from Musashi and Sagami took the offensive on both the main front and the seaward side. The Kodama League sent a messenger from the mountain flank to the New Middle Counselor Tomomori, who was fighting with his face toward the east. “The men of the Kodama League tell you this because you were once Governor of Musashi: look behind you!” On doing so, Tomomori and the others saw a cloud of black smoke advancing toward them. “Ah! The western front has fallen!” They all fled in desperate haste. Etchu¯ no Zenji Moritoshi, the Samurai Commander on the cliffward side, halted his mount and sat motionless, perhaps because he believed it was too late to try to escape. Inomata no Koheiroku Noritsuna marked him as a worthy adversary, galloped forward with flailing whip and flap- ping stirrups, rode up alongside him, gripped him with all his strength, and crashed with him to the ground. Norit- suna was a man renowned in the Eight Provinces for his
great strength, a warrior who was said to have once torn apart a deer’s double-branched antlers with ease. Moritoshi allowed others to consider him merely as strong as twenty or thirty ordinary men, but in actuality he could haul up or send down a vessel that required sixty or seventy men for the working. Thus, Moritoshi succeeded in gripping Norit- suna and holding him still. Noritsuna, lying underneath, tried to draw his dagger but could not grasp the hilt with his splayed fingers, tried to speak but was pinned too tight to utter a word. But although his head was about to be cut off, and despite his physical inferiority, his valor did not flag. He collected his breath calmly for a few instants and then spoke in an offhand manner.
“Did you hear me announce my name? A man who kills an enemy does not perform a great exploit unless he takes the head after identifying himself and requiring the other to do the same. What will you gain by taking an anony- mous head?”
Moritoshi may have thought that he was right. “I am Etchu¯ no Zenji Moritoshi, born a Taira but now become a samurai because of my inadequacies. Who are you? Announce your name: I would like to hear it.”
“I am Inomata no Koheiroku Noritsuna, a resident of Musashi Province.” Noritsuna continued, “If we look at the present state of affairs, it seems that the Genji are the stronger, and that you on the Heike side face defeat. Unless your masters prosper, you will reap no rewards by taking heads to show them. Stretch a point and spare me. I will use my exploits to save the lives of any number of Heike men—dozens, if you like.”
Moritoshi was outraged. “In spite of all my shortcom- ings, I belong to the house of Taira. I have no intention of turning to the Genji for help, and no intention whatsoever of helping one of them. Your proposal is ignoble.” He prepared to cut off Noritsuna’s head.
“You are disgracing yourself! How can you decapitate a man who has already surrendered?” Noritsuna said.
“Very well, I will spare you.” Moritoshi raised Norit- suna to his feet, and the two sat down to rest on a footpath, with a hard, sun-baked field in front and a deep, muddy rice paddy to their rear.
Presently, a warrior attired in a suit of armor with black leather lacing came galloping toward them on a whitish horse. Moritoshi eyed him suspiciously. “Don’t worry,” Norit- suna said. “That is Hitomi no Shiro¯, a friend of mine. He must have seen me.” But to himself Noritsuna thought, “If I begin wrestling with Etchu¯ no Zenji after Shiro¯ gets close, Shiro¯ will be sure to attack him, too.” He bided his time.
The rider meanwhile advanced until he was a mere thirty-five feet away. At first, Moritoshi tried to keep one eye on each of the two men, but the galloping foe engaged his full attention as he gradually approached, and he lost track of Noritsuna. Noritsuna seized the opportunity. He sprang to his feet with a yell, dealt a powerful blow to Moritoshi’s breastplate with the combined force of his two hands, and toppled him backwards into the rice paddy behind. As Moritoshi struggled to rise, Noritsuna clamped
him between his legs, snatched the dagger from Mori- toshi’s waist, lifted his adversary’s armor skirt, plunged the weapon into his flesh three times, hilt, fist, and all, and took his head.
Hitomi no Shiro¯ had come up in the meantime. “It is cases like this that give rise to disputes,” Noritsuna thought. He impaled the head on the tip of his sword, held it high, and announced his name in a mighty voice. “Inomata no
Koheiroku Noritsuna has slain Etchu¯ no Zenji Moritoshi, the Heike samurai known in these days as a demon god!” His name led that day’s list of exploits.
What are the greatest societal values as revealed in these talks? How do they compare to the values in
The Illiad by Homer?