CHAPTER XX
KIBEI DONO
Kibei was in great straits, financial and domestic. The death of Kwaiba had brought him anything but freedom. In Nippon the headship of a House is much more than the simple heirship of our western law. Relieved of his obligation in office the old man's hands were wide open to shower benefice or caprice on the most worthless. Endorsement for cash and goods to Natsumé, Imaizumi, and Kamimura; donations to the temples of Teramachi and the Yotsuyazaka; favours in every direction except that of Akiyama Chōzaémon, in the pursuit of whom Kwaiba found much amusement; all these items added to the very free living in his household had pledged deeply the ample revenue of two hundred and thirty tawara, and would have upheld the samurai trait of not knowing the value of money—if Kwaiba had been of that kind. Between Kwaiba and Kibei, the wild debauchery of the last year had brought the House to the verge of ruin. Kibei was aghast. Long since he had become deeply involved with the Kashiku Tamagiku of the Yamadaya in Edomachi Itchōme of the Yoshiwara. The ugly fellow was madly in love with the beauty. On her he had poured out the treasures of the Itō House during the six months which preceded the illness of Kwaiba. During his prolonged absence from her the letters of the Kashiku had inundated the writing table of Kibei. Had he deserted her? Was all affection gone? Where now were the promises of ransom, the blood-sealed vow to become husband and wife, to assume the relation which endures for two worlds? Kibei sullenly read these lines; cursing Kwaiba and cursing himself. Ransom! With strict living for the next five years he might set matters straight and free the Tayu; and any day she might be bought by some rich country samurai or gōshi (gentleman farmer), or be carried off to ornament the bessō of some hatamoto. Kibei wiped the bitter saliva from his lips.[32]
The domestic difficulties were accompaniment to these more important matters. In the large mansion Kibei was now alone. The tenth day had witnessed the flight of the last of the servants. The women had departed with the funeral, through fear, sacrificing wages and even such clothing as could not surreptitiously be removed. What woman—or man—could remain in a house which was the nightly scene of such fearful sounds of combat. Shrieks, wails, groans, came from the quarters once occupied by the dead Kwaiba. As to this there was no difference of opinion. The more venturesome had been favoured with actual sight of the scenes enacted. They had seen the old man as he was in death, pursued from room to room by two frightful hags, as gaunt, blear, sightless as himself. Dreadful were the cries of the dead man as the harpies fastened upon him, descending from above like two huge bats. These scenes took place usually at the eighth hour (1 a.m.), not to cease until dawn. As for the men servants, they took their leave in the days following, asking formal dismissal (itoma) with recommendation to another House. They scented the approaching ruin of their present employer.
One day Kakusuké presented himself. Kibei looked up. He understood at once that the man had come in his turn to take leave. Kakusuké alone had remained with him. He was chūgen, stable boy, cook, maid; and did the work of all four without complaint. The change in his master was too marked. Kibei, in his turn, had become irritable, timorous as a girl, subject to outbreaks of almost insane rage. To Kakusuké the young man seemed to have lost all nerve. Kakusuké wanted to serve a man. As long as the Wakadono gave promise of redemption, of rising above his difficulties and emerging into a splendid career in which Kakusuké could take pride, the chūgen was ready to take the bitter with the sweet. To be maid servant and keeper of a man half mad had no attraction for this blunt-nerved fellow. He spoke plainly—"The Wakadono should deign to throw up the whole connection. Under the present conditions the ruin of the House is unavoidable. Condescend to return to the original House in Honjō Yokogawa. This course will be best. At least the Wakadono secures his own salvation. This is the advice of Kakusuké, grown old in experience of service in a samurai household. In naught else is there hope. As to himself, would the Wakadono condescend to grant dismissal." Long had been the intimacy between Itō Kwaiba and Inagaki Shōgen. Kakusuké, the messenger between the two Houses, had watched this Fukutarō (Kibei) grow to manhood, had noted his prowess. It was with delight he had carried the documents which were to bring this new and vigorous blood into the home of his decadent master. This was the result. "A pest on these witches—and their craft!"
Kibei heard him out with growing anger. As the man's words gathered vigour and plain spokenness his hand wandered to his sword. He had a mind to cut him down then and there for his freedom of speech. More than half induced to recognize the truth of the indictment his better feeling halted him. With harsh and sardonic tone he gave unbelieving thanks for the implied reproof of the chūgen. The service of Kakusuké had been faithful beyond measure. It should have its proper reward. If others had chosen to depart as do those who run away, they had shown ignorance of this Kibei. From a drawer of the desk he took out a letter already prepared, a roll containing wages. He pushed the zen toward Kakusuké. This readiness, as if foreseen, hit the man hard. Respectfully he pressed the letter to his forehead, bowing with extended hands on the tatami; the money he did not touch. Finally he raised a timid questioning glance to his one-time master. Said Kibei jeeringly—"Kakusuké has given his advice. Is it part of his long experience that a servant should question the wages placed under his nose? Off with you! This Kibei would be alone; most willingly so." At the peremptory threatening gesture Kakusuké no longer hesitated. He had no inclination to be a victim of one of the mad outbreaks of the young man. Taking the roll humbly he backed out of the room. His steps were heard a few minutes later passing the entrance. Then the outer gate shut to with a clang.
For a long watch Kibei sat in meditation. He was as one who sleeps. Then he rose with decision. "'Tis the last chance. Kakusuké is right. The matter is to be brought to an end." Dressing for the street he left the house. He opened the big gate; then went to the stable, and saddled and bridled his horse. He led it outside, closed the gate, and mounting he rode forth, to go to Honjō Yokogawa and the yashiki of his father, Inagaki Shōgen. Coming unaccompanied he was received with surprise and some discomfiture, as he was quick to note. He was very quick to note things in these days. Prostrating himself before his mother—"Kibei presents himself. Honoured mother, deign to pardon the intrusion. Fukutarō would solicit her pity and influence." The lady looked at him with amazement. "Fukutarō! What then of Kibei? Is some jest deigned at the mother's expense? It is in very bad taste.... But the face of Kibei implies no jest. Pray put the matter plainly. Why does her son come in petition to the mother?" Began Kibei—"The matter is most serious...." He went into the full details; from the time of his entrance into the Itō House, through the course of dissipation and illness of Kwaiba, down to the present ruined state of affairs. "All this is due to the curse of O'Iwa San, to this plot in which Kibei foolishly engaged." Of this he now fully felt the force. The events of the past weeks had wrecked him in mind and body. One disaster after another, in house and ward, had been visited on Kibei. The bitterness and dislike of the people toward Kwaiba was visited on his representative, who was held responsible. In his great mansion he lived alone. No servant would enter it to attend to his wants. Was he to cook and be valet for himself—and pose as the Kumi-gashira, the great chief of the ward! The position was an impossible one. Deign to use a mother's influence with Inagaki Dono. "Condescend to secure permission for the return of this Kibei to his original House, for the cancellation of the adoption."
The wife of Shōgen sat frightened; at the tale, and at this radical way of finding an exit from the situation. The mother's heart was full of pity for the distracted son, whose haggard looks showed the strain of the past weeks. Besides she was a woman, and as such fully believed in and feared the curse of this dead O'Iwa, one who had died without funeral rites or prayer. "Fortunately the honoured father now is on the night watch at the castle. He is at home, drinking his wine. His humour is excellent. Wait but a moment." Leaving Kibei she went to the room of Shōgen's light indulgence. The severe and conscientious nobleman was bending under the genial influence of the saké. "Kibei? He comes in good season. The heir of Kwaiba Inkyō has not favoured his real father of late. Ah! The boy was well placed. Kwaiba soon made way for him; and none too willingly, one can believe." He chuckled. Then noting his wife's troubled looks. "But there is something to tell."—"So indeed; none too pleasant." She went into the story Kibei had told her. "His fear of O'Iwa San is deadly. The House is ruined, with no profit in the connection. Deign to permit the cancellation of the adoption, his return to the House of his true parent." She stopped before the stern astonished look of the husband. Said he harshly—"Let him come up. Shōgen answers Kibei Dono in person.... Heigh! Up here with you! For Itō Dono there is wine...." Kibei entered joyfully at his father's call. Success was in his hands. Once more he was to marshal his father's retainers and accompany him to the castle; once more be the habitué of the fencing rooms. "Honoured father, fear enters: for long this Kibei has not ventured into your presence."—"And need not for long again," thundered the old man. "What stuff is this for the ears of Shōgen? Kibei would sever his connection with the Itō House. Kibei is afraid of a ghost! He fears a girl! A samurai wearing two swords shrinks from an encounter with a woman! Has Shōgen no obligation toward his old friend Kwaiba? In more serious matters and in life Shōgen would share Kwaiba's lot. Back with you to the house in Yotsuya! If this matter become known, both Kibei and Shōgen will be the laughing stocks of Edo. At least keep such fears to yourself. Off with you! Shōgen had wine for Itō Dono. For the fellow who would call himself—Fukutarō, he has none." With a kick he sent rolling the zen (table) with its burden of bottles and heating apparatus. In a rage he left the room.
Kibei's face was white as he raised it from the tatami. "Father has no experience of ghosts; he speaks at random and in anger. Terrible is the actuality." Said the mother, slowly and painfully—"He is the father; he is to be obeyed." Kibei was sitting upright. He nodded grave assent. Then suddenly he prostrated himself ceremoniously before the shōji through which Shōgen had disappeared. He repeated the salutation before his mother. Then he rose—"Itō Kibei takes leave. May good health and fortune visit those of this House." At his exit the mother rejoiced. Severe had been the father's words, but they had brought the boy to reason. She wept and trembled at the reproof. Men had best knowledge of such affairs. She would pray at Reiganji, and have memorial service held for the peace of this O'Iwa in the next world. Then the curse would not rest upon her son.
On his appearance at the house entrance an ashigaru (foot soldier) led up the horse. Kibei waved him away—"For the present keep the animal in charge. With matters to attend to close at hand Kibei will use other conveyance." The man took the animal away. Leaving the gate of the yashiki Kibei walked the short distance to the Hōonji bridge. Here was a kago (litter) stand. "To Yamadaya in Yoshiwara." As the kago men went off at a trot—"Kibei has played and lost. How does the account yonder stand? Seventy ryō owed at the Matsuminatoya. For the rest, this Kibei can claim a night's attendance from the kashiku. If affection would not grant it, the huge sums bestowed in the past have a claim upon her. Then to end matters and die like a samurai. To-morrow Kibei cuts belly." It was the debt which sent him direct to the Yamadaya, and not first to the tea house. Sitting over the wine all effort of the Kashiku to enliven him failed. Noting her discomfiture he smiled gloomily. Then in explanation—"The thoughts of Kibei go astray. The House is ruined. Ransom is impossible. This is the last meeting. To-morrow Kibei cuts belly, and dies like a samurai." At first the girl thought he was joking. Then noting the wild look of despair in his eyes, she was frightened. Partly in disbelief; partly seeking to postpone this desperate resolve, to turn his thoughts and gain time for reflection; partly in that sentimental mood which at times affects this class of women—"Is Kibei truly ruined? Lamentable the fate of Tamagiku. Why not join him in death? But the idea is too new. Deign to postpone the execution for a space. To-night shall be a night of pleasure with the Kashiku Tamagiku. With the morrow's darkness she dies with Kibei. Hand in hand they will wander the paths of Amida's paradise." She came close to him in service of the wine; put her arms about him, and drew him to her bosom; in every way cajoled and sought to comfort him, and corrupt his purpose. Consent was easy. The night was passed in love and wine. In the morning he left her.