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Kwaidan-Part5_Lafcadio Hearn(1850-1904)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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The last man who saw the Mujina was an old merchant of the Kyobashi

quarter, who died about thirty years ago. This is the story, as he told



it:--

One night, at a late hour, he was hurrying up the Kii-no-kuni-zaka, when



he perceived a woman crouching by the moat, all alone, and weeping

bitterly. Fearing that she intended to drown herself, he stopped to offer



her any assistance or consolation in his power. She appeared to be a slight

and graceful person, handsomely dressed; and her hair was arranged like



that of a young girl of good family. "O-jochu," [1] he exclaimed,

approaching her,-- "O-jochu, do not cry like that!... Tell me what the



trouble is; and if there be any way to help you, I shall be glad to help

you." (He really meant what he said; for he was a very kind man.) But she



continued to weep,-- hiding her face from him with one of her long sleeves.

"O-jochu," he said again, as gently as he could,-- "please, please listen



to me!... This is no place for a young lady at night! Do not cry, I implore

you! -- only tell me how I may be of some help to you!" Slowly she rose up,



but turned her back to him, and continued to moan and sob behind her

sleeve. He laid his hand lightly upon her shoulder, and pleaded:--



"O-jochu! -- O-jochu! -- O-jochu!... Listen to me, just for one little

moment!... O-jochu! -- O-jochu!"... Then that O-jochu turned around, and



dropped her sleeve, and stroked her face with her hand; -- and the man saw

that she had no eyes or nose or mouth,-- and he screamed and ran away. (2)



Up Kii-no-kuni-zaka he ran and ran; and all was black and empty before

him. On and on he ran, never daring to look back; and at last he saw a



lantern, so far away that it looked like the gleam of a firefly; and he

made for it. It proved to be only the lantern of an itinerant soba-seller,



[2] who had set down his stand by the road-side; but any light and any

human companionship was good after that experience; and he flung himself



down at the feet of the soba-seller, crying out, "Ah! -- aa!! -- aa!!!"...

"Kore! kore!" (3) roughly exclaimed the soba-man. "Here! what is the



matter with you? Anybody hurt you?"

"No -- nobody hurt me," panted the other,-- "only... Ah! -- aa!"



"-- Only scared you?" queried the peddler, unsympathetically. "Robbers?"

"Not robbers,-- not robbers," gasped the terrified man... "I saw... I saw



a woman -- by the moat; -- and she showed me... Ah! I cannot tell you what

she showed me!"...



"He! (4) Was it anything like THIS that she showed you?" cried the

soba-man, stroking his own face --which therewith became like unto an



Egg... And, simultaneously, the light went out.

ROKURO-KUBI



Nearly five hundred years ago there was a samurai, named Isogai

Heidazaemon Taketsura, in the service of the Lord Kikuji, of Kyushu. This



Isogai had inherited, from many warlike ancestors, a natural aptitude for

military exercises, and extraordinary strength. While yet a boy he had



surpassed his teachers in the art of swordsmanship, in archery, and in the

use of the spear, and had displayed all the capacities of a daring and



skillful soldier. Afterwards, in the time of the Eikyo [1] war, he so

distinguished himself that high honors were bestowed upon him. But when the



house of Kikuji came to ruin, Isogai found himself without a master. He

might then easily have obtained service under another daimyo; but as he had



never sought distinction for his own sake alone, and as his heart remained

true to his former lord, he preferred to give up the world. so he cut off



his hair, and became a traveling priest,-- taking the Buddhist name of

Kwairyo.



But always, under the koromo [2] of the priest, Kwairyo kept warm within

him the heart of the samurai. As in other years he had laughed at peril, so



now also he scorned danger; and in all weathers and all seasons he

journeyed to preach the good Law in places where no other priest would have



dared to go. For that age was an age of violence and disorder; and upon the

highways there was no security for the solitary traveler, even if he



happened to be a priest.

In the course of his first long journey, Kwairyo had occasion to visit the



province of Kai. (1) One evening, as he was traveling through the mountains

of that province, darkness overcame him in a very lonesome district,



leagues away from any village. So he resigned himself to pass the night

under the stars; and having found a suitablegrassy spot, by the roadside,



he lay down there, and prepared to sleep. He had always welcomed

discomfort; and even a bare rock was for him a good bed, when nothing



better could be found, and the root of a pine-tree an excellent pillow. His

body was iron; and he never troubled himself about dews or rain or frost or



snow.

Scarcely had he lain down when a man came along the road, carrying an axe






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