# Tales from Old Japanese Dramas/The Love of Komachi the Poetess

The Love of Komachi the Poetess
From
The Ono-no-Komachi Miyako no Toshidama
By
Ki-no-Kaion
The Love of Komachi the Poetess
I
OMACHI, the daughter of Ono-no-Yoshizané, the Lord of Dewa, was the most beautiful woman that Japan has ever produced. She was a remarkably talented poetess, and her name is familiar to everybody in connection with the famous anthology Hyaku-Nin-Isshyu, or "Single Verses by a Hundred Poets."
In her younger days, Komachi was courted by a large number of noblemen and samurai. Two of these suitors were consumed with a burning passion for her. One was Fukakusa-no-Shōshō Arihira, a court noble, who was a handsome and accomplished gentleman. He had written the maiden many letters; but to his great mortification, she had not replied so much as a single line. It must be remarked en passant that she had never seen Arihira, though he had had frequent opportunities to catch a glimpse of her.
​Her other passionate adorer was Ōtomo-no-Kuronushi, who was also a nobleman, and well skilled as a poet. He was a haughty, overbearing, and unsympathetic man; and was so enamoured of the young lady that he was determined to attain his purpose, even if he had to resort to violence.
One beautiful spring day, Komachi, accompanied by two or three of her maids, went to Mt. Ōhara to view the cherry-blossoms. When Arihira heard of this, he made up his mind to also visit the mountain incognito with a man-servant. By so doing he hoped to find a chance of pleading his cause in person.
Komachi was so charmed with the beautiful blossoms, and the sweet songs of the birds, that her muse became inspired, and she burst forth into verse. She resolved to write her poem on a piece of paper, and tie it to a branch of the cherry-tree, as is often the custom with Japanese poets. She ordered one of her maids to give her a pen and paper, but there was no ink. The young poetess was filled with sorrow, and she quietly complained about this omission. Arihira, who had been an unseen observer of the scene, at this moment walked up to her.
Mr. Sōnosuké as Lady Komachi
​"Fair lady, pardon me for addressing you without an introduction," said he, bowing politely. "You seem to be in need of ink. I have some here. You are quite welcome to make use of it."
Komachi was greatly delighted at receiving such a kind offer from a handsome and distinguished-looking man. She accepted his ink with many blushes and hearty thanks. She wrote her poem, and after reading it over carefully, handed it to one of her maids. Arihira asked to be allowed the privilege of reading the poem before it was hung on to a branch of the cherry-tree. She consented modestly, and he read it several times, praising it highly. Then he went aside, and taking a small slip of paper, wrote something on it very earnestly. He then returned to her, and handed her what he had written.
"Here is my poem, fair lady," he said, glancing at her with a significant but self-conscious look. "Of course there is no comparison between my poem and yours; but I earnestly hope that you will appreciate the spirit in which it was written."
She received the paper, and unsuspectingly looked over it, expecting to find some beautiful poem; but she was astonished to read an ardent ​love-letter, bearing the signature of Fukakusa-no-Shōshō Arihira! Was he the man who had so often written to her? It was not that she had felt no sympathy for the love-sick suitor. She had ignored his letters because it was contrary to womanly modesty to become unduly intimate with a man without first receiving her father's permission. She was glad to think that Arihira was not offended at her seeming cold-heartedness, and had that day followed her. She felt almost inclined to unbosom herself to him; but she suddenly remembered that she was the daughter of a daimyo. If she committed a rash or thoughtless act, the good name of her family, and the reputation of her father might be compromised.
With these thoughts Komachi abruptly excused herself, and began to retire to her resting-place, which was surrounded with curtains. But Arihira caught her by the long, flowing sleeve of her dress and poured into her ears eloquent words of love.
"If you refuse, you will send me to my death," he concluded with tears. "Give me your sympathy, dear lady!"
"Lord Arihira," she answered tenderly, "your appreciation gives me great pleasure. But if I ​consent to your proposal without my father's permission, I shall be branded as a shameless girl. That was my only reason for not answering your numerous kind letters. Please pardon my seeming indifference."
"Excuse me if I interrupt you, my lady," broke in Arihira's servant, "but you need have no fears about that. I am sure your father will readily consent to my lord's proposal. Lord Arihira is descended from the illustrious Lord Kamatari, and he himself is a court noble of high rank. Your ladyship's consent is the only thing now necessary. Do not cause disappointment to my lord."
"Well," said she, blushing like a beautiful red rose, "if my father grants his permission, how can I refuse? If he gives his consent, I shall willingly be yours, Lord Arihira. But my beloved mother died during my childhood, and tomorrow is the thirteenth anniversary of her death. So I have taken a vow that I shall fast and pray for her soul for a hundred days, of which the first is tomorrow. Will you kindly wait until I have completed the fulfilment of my vow?"
"Willingly, my lady," answered Arihira, filled ​with an ecstasy of joy, "but I cannot stay at home in idleness for such a long time as a hundred days. I will not press you to see me before your vow has been fulfilled, but may I not sometimes hear your sweet voice? Please allow me to come in secret to your gate every night. Always remember to keep your word, and come to me after the completion of your vow, my dearest lady."
II
The prime councillor of Komachi's father, who was named Godai Chikatada, had a sister named U-noha. She was a blooming damsel of sixteen summers, and was noted for her beauty and intelligence. One night she received instructions from her brother to go and pay her respects to Lady Komachi. She obeyed his wishes, and Lady Komachi was very pleased at receiving her call. They both talked unreservedly on various topics.
"By the bye," said U-noha, "as I was walking up to your gate this evening, I was startled to see someone suspiciously concealed in your carriage, which was standing near the entrance. I felt inclined to go up and demand who it was. But I hesitated to do so, because I thought that he must be the lover of one of your maids, and I did not wish to be so cruel as to prevent their secret meeting. I therefore pretended not to see him and walked in,"—as she said this she smiled mischievously,—"I suppose it was one of your maids ​in the midst of a clandestine but sweet love affair. How I envy her!"
"Hush, U-noha!" said Komachi blushing. "I see that I must confess the truth to you, but I must ask you to promise not to tell your brother. The man you saw hiding in the carriage is Lord Arihira."
She then told all that had passed between herself and her lover.
"Lord Arihira has promised to come secretly every night to my gate, during my hundred days of fasting and prayer." As she continued her face became wreathed with smiles. "So the man in the carriage must have been he. He is a very kind and trustworthy man. The period of fasting and prayer is nearly at an end. The day will soon come when Lord Arihira will openly ask my father for my hand in marriage. Be thankful, dear girl; when I am Lady Arihira, I will find you a handsome husband."
"You must indeed be happy," said U-noha, her brow suddenly darkening. "I congratulate you! Your intentions are kind, but it is not suitable for a girl to choose for herself a handsome husband. I must put up with an ill-favoured man. I don't ​rightly know the reason, but your happy story has made me feel dizzy and heavy-hearted. Will you excuse me if I retire, my lady?"
With these words U-noha went into the next room. Truth to tdl, the maiden had long cherished a secret passion for Arihira, and had written him many a letter, but he had sent her no answer. That was not surprising; for Arihira had been too absorbed in his love for Komachi to pay any attention to the courtship of a comparatively unknown girl. If Komachi continued to be his sweetheart, U-noha might long for him for ever in vain. She realized that the situation was helpless, and she wept bitterly with despair. After a while she thought of a plan. She thought that if Lord Arihira was still hiding in the carriage, she would meet him, and confide her feelings to him. She would also complain, as much as she wished, of his cold-heartedness, and afterwards would try to abandon her hopeless love. Having made up her mind thus, she was about to leave the room, but as she reached the door, she trembled and turned faint, being overcome with maidenly timidity.
Looking around her, she saw on the family altar a bottle of saké, which had been put there as an ​offering to the deities of poetry. She remembered that people had told her that the liquor stimulated one's courage; and taking down the bottle, she desperately drank two or three cupfuls. Then taking the bottle with its remaining contents in her hand, the love-sick girl stole out of the chamber to give it to Arihira, who was in the carriage.
But the man in the carriage was not really Arihira. He was Ōtomo-no-Kuronushi, the other passionate adorer of Komachi, lying in wait to take Arihira's life. When he had found out about the intimacy existing between the couple, he had been filled with a burning anger and jealousy. After some consideration, he came to the desperate resolution to make away with his rival, and make Komachi a "jewel in his own hand." U-noha was utterly ignorant of this; and emboldened by saké, she groped her way towards the carriage.
"Lord Arihira! Lord Arihira!" she exclaimed in a whisper. "Oh! He is asleep! Lord Arihira, you will take cold if you sleep here in this cold weather."
The would-be assassin awoke from his slumber and cried out in terrified tones:
"It is I, sir," answered the girl, disguising her voice
​"Who are you?"
"It is I, sir," answered the girl, disguising her voice. "Lord Arihira, don't you know your promised wife?"
"Are you Lady Komachi?" asked Kuronushi, in pleased surprise.
"I am," she answered. "It is very cold tonight, so I've brought you some saké. Will you drink it, my dear lord?"
"Many thanks. I cannot tell you how glad I am to meet you, my dearest," returned the other in a feigned voice.
U-noha stepped into the carriage and handed the saké to the supposed Arihira. Both were in an ecstasy of joy, being under the sweet delusion of having each met their lovers. They kissed and fondled each other, and the saké soon after taking effect, they fell asleep.
In the meantime Arihira had as usual stealthily approached the gate, and hearing the sound of whispers in the carriage, paused with bated breath. He feared that the sound of his footsteps might break the spell of some young lovers' secret meeting. At that moment there were sounds of footsteps approaching the gate. Fearing discovery, ​Arihira softly climbed into a branch of a great pine tree, which was growing near the wall. Soon one of Kuronushi's retainers appeared, and walked up to the carriage.
"My lord! My lord!" he called softly. "Have you killed him already?"
"No, not yet," whispered Kuronushi, waking, "but never mind, the next best thing has happened, for Lady Komachi is in my power. She is now sound asleep in this carriage. It is dark, so if you will help me to carry her to my house, no one will see us."
"Good, my lord! Let us make haste," said the retainer, stepping into the carriage. "Lady Komachi! Lady Komachi! Please wake!"
The girl awoke, and the sleep having sobered her, she was filled with regret at having pretended to be her young mistress. She was overcome with shame at the mean deed she had committed.
"I am ashamed of myself, Lord Arihira!" she stammered. "I am not Lady Komachi. I am U-noha. I have longed for many a day to gain the love of your lordship. Pray forgive me, my dear lord!"
On hearing this confession, both Kuronushi and ​his retainer were struck dumb with astonishment. The disappointed nobleman reflected for a moment, and then thought of the following terrible plan. He determined that he would sacrifice the life of the poor girl, and lay the crime of murder upon his rival.
He suddenly drew his dirk from its sheath, and stabbed U-noha to the heart, and signalling to his retainer, they both disappeared in an instant. The girl fell to the ground, shrieking in her death agony; and Arihira, greatly amazed, jumped down and ran to her assistance.
"Help! Help!" he cried. "Murder! Murder!"
Chikatada, U-noha's brother, and several of his retainers were startled at hearing the maiden's cries, and rushed to the scene. When he saw his sister's dead body, he was exceedingly astonished, and wondered who could be the murderer. Frantic with grief, he looked around him, and when he saw Arihira standing at the wall, trembling with emotion, he naturally concluded that he must be the murderer. Drawing his sword, he rushed up to the nobleman, roaring:
​Arihira started back, pleaded his innocence, and gave an account of what he had observed whilst concealed in the tree. But the samurai was too excited to listen to his explanation. Fortunately at that moment Sadakagé, Arihira's chief retainer, came and profusely pleaded for his master.
"Your sorrow is natural," he said, "but I wish to save my master from the infamous charge of murder. Please place his life in my hands for three days. Within that time I will surely search for the oflfender, and deliver him to you. Pray grant my request, sir."
After Sadakagé had finished speaking, Komachi's father Yoshizané came, and asserted that Lord Arihira was such a man of refinement that he could not have killed a young maiden. He also persuaded Chikatada to comply with Sadakagé's earnest request. But Chikatada added that if the real offender did not appear within the stipulated period, he would take Arihira's life.
III
A severe drought had been over the land for several weeks. The earth was parched, rivers were dried up, and rice and all the other crops were ruined. Everyone, from the Emperor downward, prayed to Heaven and Earth, the gods of the sea and the river, for rain; but not a single drop fell. If the drought should continue for a few days more famine and starvation would prevail throughout Japan.
When the Emperor heard of this, he ordered the Prime Minister to induce the poets to offer verses to the god of rain. In those days people believed that a pre-eminently excellent poem could move Heaven and Earth, the gods and evil spirits. If a wonderfully beautiful poem was offered to the Ryūjin or the Dragon-god, he would be so moved that rain would fall immediately. In compliance with the Imperial Order, the Prime Minister summoned many poets to meet on the Hirozawa Pond, in which the Dragon-god dwelt. The Minister presided, and Ki-no-Tsurayuki, the poet laureate, ​acted as judge and reciter. All those who had won a certain amount of fame as versemakers: court nobles, high officials, samurai, and ladies attended the meeting.
The haughty poet Kuronushi was the first to offer his poem. The judge read it aloud with great respect. It was a commonplace composition, both in words and sentiments; but Tsurayuld made a complimentary remark about it. Kuronushi looked around triumphantly at all the poets. "I don't wish to sound conceited, friends," he said, "but I am bound to say that I consider my poem a perfect one. I am sure that in virtue of it rain will presently fall. Pray look at the sky! It is already darkening! Clouds are gathering! Have you ordered your servants to bring some protection against the rain, friends?"
At Kuronushi's impudent words, all present looked at one another with bitter smiles. At this moment Arihira's retainer, Sadakagé, who was present, suddenly walked up to Kuronushi, and all were astonished to hear him say brusquely:
"Excuse me, sir, but are you quite sure that that poem is your own composition? I fancy it is an ancient one, isn't it, sir?"
​"What insolence!" cried Kuronushi flushing angrily. "Apologize to me immediately, or you will not live another moment!"
"Then are you sure" asked Sadakagé again, quite undaunted, "it is your own work, sir?"
"Whose else can it be, insolent wretch?" cried Kuronushi, his rage increasing.
At this assurance, Sadakagé beckoned to Chikatada to approach and said, "I have no doubt whatever, my friend, that this Kuronushi is the murderer of your sister U-noha."
Qiikatada, hearing these words, sprang at Kuronushi, and cried: "Enemy of my sister! I can never forgive you the wrong you have done me!" and he seized him without a moment's hesitation.
"The enemy of your sister?" said Kuronushi, turning as pale as death. "Nonsense! You are mad!"
The Prime Minister ordered silence, and addressed Sadakagé with great dignity.
"Did I understand you to say that Lord Kuronushi has killed Chikatada's sister? That's strange I Can you substantiate your accusation?"
"We deserve punishment for disturbing this ​sacred meeting, your Excellency," answered Sadakagé, bowing to the Minister, "but I think we have indisputable evidence. To tell the truth, this crime was committed from motives of jealousy in love. Lord Kuronushi secretly killed Chikatada's sister, intending to lay his crime on his rival Lord Arihira, my master, in order to attain his base wishes. When we examined the unfortunate maiden's garments, we found among them a poem written on a piece of beautiful paper, which was evidently prepared for today's meeting. I have it here, your Excellency. We concluded that the writer of this poem must be the murderer, and therefore expected to find him at this meeting. The poem by Lord Kuronushi which was read just now was exactly the same as the one we found in U-noha's clothes, and I have therefore judged him to be the culprit. I hope that your Excellency will agree with the truth of my judgment."
The Minister compared the two poems, and on examining them both carefully, found that they were word for word the same, not only in construction, but also the handwriting was identical in every detail. He was greatly astonished, and ​said that it was a heinous crime for a nobleman of high rank to murder an innocent maiden, merely in order to lay the offence on another man. He also said that he would report the matter to the Emperor, after which the criminal's punishment would be decided. The scoundrel was promptly delivered to the police, who took him away to prison.
Then the Prime Minister ordered the "poetry meeting" to be continued. Many poets, in rapid succession, offered their verses to the Dragon-god, but there was no response.
All present were downcast with regret and disappointment, and had almost given up hope when Lady Komadu walked gracefully forward, and offered her poem with modest words. The Poet Laureate had scarcely finished reading it aloud, when black clouds suddenly covered the sky, and rain poured in torrents, reviving all the withered vegetation. The Prime Minister was filled with intense joy. He praised the poetess with enthusiasm, and declared that she should receive a munificent reward from the Emperor. Then the meeting was closed, and he hastened to the Imperial Palace to report the matter to the Mikado.
IV
The next day Kuronushi was deprived of his rank and title, his estate and property were confiscated, and his retainers banished from the capital But the criminal's proper punishment was deferred to a later date, his present pimishment being only a preliminary step.
One day Komachi and her father Yoshizané received a summons to the Imperial Palace, where the Emperor conferred upon her the dignity of court lady, and created her Poetess Laureate in recognition of the wonderful miracle she had achieved. Both father and daughter were filled with gratitude. Soon after the ceremony was over the Emperor summoned the Prime Minister to him, and told htm that owing to his advanced age he intended shortly to abdicate in favour of the Crown Prince Hanateru. Komachi, who was gifted with great intelligence, and who was a supremely beautiful woman, was selected to be the Prince's bride. The wedding was to take place in a very short time, and she was to make the Palace her ​home until the final arrangements were completed. When the Minister had heard the Imperial command, he communicated it to Yoshizané and Komachi. The father almost wept for gratitude, and telling his daughter to stay, left the Court, in an ecstasy of joy.
When she was left alone, Komachi fell into a reverie. It was the greatest honour to her to have been appointed Crown Princess, but it was impossible for her to break her vows with Lord Arihira. Although she had not yet asked her father's permission for the marriage, she already considered herself his wife. Therefore, although she had received a command from the Emperor, she could not desert Arihira without violating her duty as a virtuous woman. On the other hand, how could she disobey the Imperial command? She was indeed in a dreadful dilemma. Only one thing remained for her to do, and that was to take her own life.
With this resolve Komachi unsheathed her dirk with fast falling tears, and she said to herself with a sigh: "I wish I could see my beloved Arihira and father before I die." She raised her hand and was about to plunge the dirk into her throat, ​when just at the critical moment, someone suddenly seized her hands and prevented her from doing the fearful deed. She looked around, and to her surprise and pleasure, she saw her lover Arihira. He had that day been summoned to the Court on duty, and on hearing of Komachi's appointment as Crown Princess had sought for her to talk with her. They gazed at each other for a few moments, dumb with emotion. Then Komachi, with many tears, told Arihira what had happened to her, and the reason why she had attempted suicide. When he heard her words, Arihira was overcome with admiration and gratitude, but he said with assumed composure:
"I am indeed thankful to hear of your faithfulness to me, my dearest, but I cannot bear to see you kill yourself for my sake, and you must not disobey the Imperial command. The only course open to you is to give me up, and try and enjoy the pomp and luxury of the life of a Crown Princess. Of course I release you from all your vows, and am willing to withdraw my own. Farewell, my dear Komachi."
As he spoke, Arihira prepared to depart; but Komachi clung to his sleeve, and wept bitterly, saying:
​"Your words are unkind, Lord Arihira! I cannot, as I live, give you up. Do not say such cruel things again!"
"Your devotion touches me to the heart, my dearest. I must confess that my words were only to persuade you to abandon your idea of killing yourself. I promise you that I will keep my vows for ever. But our determination makes it impossible for us to stay here any longer. We must fly to some remote place without delay. Let us go at once!"
"Do you really mean me to go with you. Lord Arihira?"
"Yes. Make haste and come now."
V
When Komachi and Arihira had stolen out of the Palace, they ran aimlessly hand in hand to the suburbs. Thence, in order to evade pursuit, they chose unfrequented places. They wandered along all the night through. Sometimes they lost themselves in the densely wooded forest, at other times they stumbled among endless rows of tombstones, until at dawn they found themselves quite exhausted at Arashiyama. There they saw a cottage which was evidently the dwelling of a Buddhist priest living a solitary life of devotion. They dragged their weary footsteps to the door, in order to ask for shelter and a little rest. They knocked, and the door was opened by a young priest, who as soon as he saw them said wonderingly:
"How glad I am to see you, my lord and lady! May I ask what has brought you to such a lonely place?"
The lovers looked at the priest's face, and were surprised and pleased to recognize in him a man ​whose life they had saved on the occasion of their picnic to Mount Ohara. It was on that day that they had exchanged their love-vows. They therefore freely confided in him, and told him the whole story of their unfortunate love affairs, and how they had exchanged vows of eternal fidelity. They also told how Komachi's poem had caused rain to fall at the "poetry-meeting" in consequence of which she had been appointed Crown Princess. They gave an account of their elopement, and begged the priest earnestly to protect and shelter them for the time being. The priest promptly and willingly consented, saying:
"Willingly, my lord and lady. I will do anything in my power to help you. You can stay here as long as you choose. But I am afraid the accommodation is very inconvenient. However, in such an out-of-the-way place you will be safe from all pursuers. But you must eat, for you are sure to be consumed with hunger. I will run to the village and get you some food. Please rest in the inner room until I return."
With these words the priest went out. Komachi and Arihira, feeling greatly relieved, walked in, and settled down to rest in the inner room. ​A little while later they were startled by the sounds of some men walking into the cottage. They hesitatingly peeped through the chinks of the shōji, and were amazed to see many men with their faces muffled with kerchiefs, and looking like outlaws.
"Bring us some cups of tea," cried the ruffians.
The young couple feared that immediate danger might follow, if the outlaws should catch a glimpse of their faces, and did not dare to come out. They answered timidly:
"The priest to whom this cottage belongs is out, and so pray help yourselves to tea or hot water, as much as you please, sirs."
"As much as we please!" cried the ruffians. "What insolence! If you are in charge of the house, why don't you come out and greet us? Well, we will boil the water and make some tea for ourselves."
With these words they stepped noisily up the mats, and sliding open the shōji, looked at the terrified pair.
"Ha! Ha! Here are the eloping couple, Komachi and Arihira," they cried triumphantly. "We are delighted to see you. We are the ​retainers of Lord Kuronushi. It was owing to your interference that our lord was deprived of his rank and title, and thrown into prison. We disguised ourselves as outlaws and have searched for you in order to catch you. You have eloped in violation of the Imperial command, and if we capture you and take you back we shall obtain our lord's pardon. Fortune has favoured us, and delivered you into our hands."
As they spoke, they bound Komachi and Arihira hand and foot, and were just about to depart for the capital with them, when the priest returned. The priest, who had formerly been a samurai, and was very proficient in military arts, and possessed Herculean strength, was not in the least alarmed at this state of affairs. He rushed up to the butsudan or family Buddhist shrine, and taking from it a great sword, cut and hewed at the ruffians. They were terrified at the remarkable strength of his strokes and immediately fled in all directions.
The priest cut the frightened captives free from their bonds and said:
"As your whereabouts have been discovered, it is dangerous for you to stay here longer. You ​must fly for your lives at once. If you go along the north side of the valley you will reach Saga. I will stay here for some time, and delay any enemies who may be pursuing you, and afterwards I will overtake you; but you must hasten immediately,"
Urged by the priest, the young lovers fled along the road he had suggested.
After they had gone, the priest fought bravely against the rallying foes and succeeded in repulsing them. He then began to make preparations to start after his new friends, when Komachi's retainer Chikatada and Arihira's retainer Sadakagé came to the convent accompanied by their master and mistress. They had met them in the mountain some distance off, and having heard of the priest's kindness to them had come back to thank him and consult with him as to what they had better do next. After a consultation, they decided to visit a certain temple which was situated in Mount Atago, and beg the abbot to shelter Komachi and Arihira.
VI
Soon afterwards the Emperor abdicated, and Prince Hanateru ascended the throne. Amnesty was proclaimed to commemorate the occurrence, and consequently the capital sentence which had been pronounced upon Kuronushi was remitted, and he was not only pardoned, but his former rank and title were restored to him. But this grace was not extended to Lord Arihira and Lady Komachi, who were considered violators of the Imperial command. No one ventured to entreat for their pardon. Thus the young lovers were like plants growing in the shade without any chance of blooming forth in the sun. They continued to live a dreary and secluded life in Mount Atago.
There was a rumour at that time that a goblin frequently appeared in the Imperial Palace. Sometimes it summoned up tremendous peals of thunder and sometimes it appeared in the form of a woman with hideous features. When it appeared, the nobles and ministers of state were ​frightened, and the Emperor was filled with terror. The Emperor therefore sent for two famous priests of Mount Hiyei and ordered them to pray, so that the goblin might be subdued. So that same day they began to offer up earnest prayers. The goblin immediately appeared before them in the shape of a woman, and said angrily:
"Alas! ye foolish priests; no matter how fervently ye may pray, my hatred will never be pacified." With these words, the phantom vanished, and suddenly lurid lightning flashed, and deafening peals of thunder rolled around.
The priests, however, were undaunted, and continued their earnest prayers, holding their rosaries in their hands. The ghostly woman appeared again, and they asked her reproachfully: "Woman, whose spirit are you, and what is the cause of your hatred? Why can you not resort to some other method of showing your resentment? How do you dare to cause annoyance to his Imperial Majesty?"
The spectre sobbed bitterly and said, "I am the spirit of U-noha, who was cruelly murdered by Kuronushi. He is not only a heinous scoundrel. ​but has committed the foul crime of murder, and yet he has not only been pardoned, but has been restored to his former rank and position. But why was the Imperial favour not extended to Lord Arihira and Lady Komachi? They have committed no offence whatever. It is terribly unjust. Therefore I carry a grudge in my heart against the Imperial Court, and have endeavoured to terrify them by causing spectres frequently to appear."
"Komachi and Arihira have committed no offence?" retorted the priests. "They have committed the great crime of disobeying the ex-Emperor's command and eloping together!"
"No, you are mistaken," exclaimed the spectre. "Both Lady Komachi and Lord Arihira had exchanged vows of eternal fidelity, long before the ex-Emperor appointed her Crown Princess. They were only waiting for their wedding. So, although they had commands from the Emperor, they could not break their vows without violating their duties as a faithful man, and a virtuous woman. Their step was quite unavoidable, and therefore was not a crime. Their only course was to steal out of the palace, and run away. ​If any one is to blame, it is the ex-Emperor. He forcibly appointed a betrothed woman to be the Crown Prince's consort."
The priests had no reply to offer to this indisputable argument. They admitted its justice, and promised the ghost to inform the Emperor of all that had passed. This entirely satisfied the ghost, and it vanished.
The priests at once went to the Imperial presence, and told the Emperor of what they had heard. The Emperor was immediately convinced of his error.
"Then," said he, "Komachi and Arihira have not committed the crime of adultery. I will order them to be immediately recalled to the capital, and will publicly make them man and wife, and restore them to their former positions. I also decree that the spirit of U-noha shall be deified in the Kamo Shrine."
The Emperor's commands were carried out, and the ghost ceased to haunt the court.