“Calm yourself, father, and hear me for but a moment. Do you imagine I overlooked Ryōkwan’s insolent behaviour because I was afraid of him?”
“What else can I think?”
“Then listen. Recollect, father, that a samurai’s life is not his own—it belongs to his liege lord. Judging from the strained relations between our clan and the Tokugawas hostilities may break out at any time....” here Shigenari’s brow clouded and he sighed deeply; “Yes, war may break out at any moment now, and on the result hangs the future destiny of our lord and his clan. It is my intention to fight to the utmost of my strength and ability to requite if it be but the thousandth part of the many and great favours I have received from our gracious master. I shall sell my blood dear for his cause. And this is the bounden duty of every one of us, high and low alike. Our lives have never been more precious—not one can be spared except for the cause. If I had killed Ryōkwan out of resentment for a purely personal insult what good would it have done? Though his rank is inferior to mine, he is still a samurai; and as a samurai his death could not have been passed over unnoticed. Besides, Ryōkwan, though in human form, is but an insect in my estimation. It would be derogatory for a samurai to unsheathe his sword in anger against a mere insect! Therefore....”
“Enough, enough!” interposed the impulsive Yorikané. “I understand; you are right and I in my haste misjudged you entirely. Forgive me, and forget my thoughtless words.”
Shigenari smiled, well pleased at the reconciliation.
“We are father and son again,” went on the older man. “I am proud of the connection—you are a true samurai. But, tell me,” he added with a chuckle. “You call Ryōkwan an insect; to what insect do you compare him?”
“To a fly,” answered Shigenari. “A fly alights on filth or on an Emperor’s crown—it makes no distinction between good and bad, high or low. But no one would call a fly an impolite insect. Looking on Ryōkwan as a man one feels anger and disgust; consider he is but a fly and it is unreasonable to have any such feelings, he is beneath them. Therefore I take no notice of anything he can do or say.”
“Well argued, Shigenari! What a noble-minded man you are! I admire your wisdom and forbearance. As you say, the war cloud is fast darkening over us and it behoves all loyal samurai to be on their guard and not waste their energies on petty quarrels of their own. Again I ask your pardon for misconstruing your conduct. Though younger in years, dear Shigenari, you are older than I in judgment and forethought. Though old I am still as rash and impetuous as a boy.”
More than satisfied with the explanation he had received, Yorikané returned home, and thenceforth did his best to clear his son-in-law from the imputation of cowardice. He spoke in glowing terms of Shigenari’s real motive in his behaviour to the tea-priest, and told in what light he regarded him. Public opinion is ever quick to change; and those who had scoffed were soon loud in praise of Shigenari’s self-repression and loyalty. Ryōkwan, on the other hand, was universally laughed at and nicknamed the “Fly-priest.” As a natural consequence, instead of repenting of his misdeed, Ryōkwan’s envy and hatred of his superior increased, and he was ever on the watch for a chance to vent his spite.
There was a large bath-room in the castle which was used in common by all. It was usual for the samurai on night duty to bathe several at the same time. One evening Ryōkwan happened to see Shigenari going into the bath-room, and thinking the time to satisfy his grudge had come, he followed him unobserved. The room was misty with the dense vapour rising from the hot water, and four or five samurai were already in the large square bath. Taking one of them to be Shigenari the tea-priest approached, and mustering all his strength, struck his head a heavy blow. The naked man sprang out of the water, and seizing Ryōkwan by the collar, threw him on the floor where he returned the blow he had received with compound interest.