"If you do not take me over, I will cross!--if you do not take me over, I will cross!--there is a way to cross the river of Amoda!" Taking off her sandals and holding them aloft, she entered the water, and at once turned into a dragon with twelve horns fully grown,--

_With twelve horns fully grown._

Then the Yamabushi, fleeing, reached the temple Dojoji, and cried to the priests of the temple Dojoji:--"O good priests, behind me a damsel comes pursuing!--hide me, I beseech you, good sir priests!--

"_Good sir priests!_"

Then the priests, after holding consultation, took down from its place the big bell of the temple; and under it they hid him,--

_Under it they hid him_.

Then the dragon-maid, pursuing, followed him to the temple Dojoji. For a moment she stood in the gate of the temple: she saw that bell, and viewed it with suspicion. She thought:--"I must wrap myself about it once." She thought:--"I must wrap myself about it twice!" At the third wrapping, the bell was melted, and began to flow like boiling water,--

_Like boiling water_.

So is told the story of the Wrapping of the Bell. Many damsels dwell by the seash.o.r.e of j.a.pan;--but who among them, like the daughter of the Choja, will become a dragon?--

_Become a dragon?_

This is all the Song of the Wrapping of the Bell!--this is all the Song,--

_All the song!_[112]

[112] This legend forms the subject of several j.a.panese dramas, both ancient and modern. The original story is that a Buddhist priest, called Anchin, having rashly excited the affection of a maiden named Kiyohime, and being, by reason of his vows, unable to wed her, sought safety from her advances in flight. Kiyohime, by the violence of her frustrated pa.s.sion, therewith became transformed into a fiery dragon; and in that shape she pursued the priest to the temple called Dojoji, in k.u.mano (modern Kishu), where he tried to hide himself under the great temple-bell. But the dragon coiled herself round the bell, which at once became red-hot, so that the body of the priest was totally consumed.

In this rude ballad Kiyohime figures only as the daughter of an inn-keeper,--the _Choja_, or rich man of his village; while the priest Anchin is changed into a Yamabushi. The Yamabushi are, or at least were, wandering priests of the strange sect called Shugendo,--itinerant exorcists and diviners, professing both Shinto and Buddhism. Of late years their practices have been prohibited by law; and a real Yamabushi is now seldom to be met with.

The temple Dojoji is still a famous place of pilgrimage. It is situated not far from Gobo, on the western coast of Kishu. The incident of Anchin and the dragon is said to have occurred in the early part of the tenth century.

I shall give only one specimen of the true street-ballad,--the kind of ballad commonly sung by wandering samisen-players. It is written in an irregular measure, varying from twelve to sixteen syllables in length; the greater number of lines having thirteen syllables. I do not know the date of its composition; but I am told by aged persons who remember hearing it sung when they were children, that it was popular in the period of Tenpo (1830-1843). It is not divided into stanzas; but there are pauses at irregular intervals,--marked by the refrain, _Yanrei!_

O-KICHI-SEIZA KUDOKI

("_The Ditty of O-Kichi and Seiza_")

Now hear the pitiful story of two that died for love.--In Kyoto was the thread-shop of Yoemon, a merchant known far and near,--a man of much wealth. His business prospered; his life was fortunate. One daughter he had, an only child, by name O-Kichi: at sixteen years she was lovely as a flower. Also he had a clerk in his house, by name Seiza, just in the prime of youth, aged twenty-and-two.

_Yanrei!_

Now the young man Seiza was handsome; and O-Kichi fell in love with him at sight. And the two were so often together that their secret affection became known; and the matter came to the ears of the parents of O-Kichi; and the parents, hearing of it, felt that such a thing could not be suffered to continue.

_Yanrei!_

So at last, the mother, having called O-Kichi into a private room, thus spoke to her:--"O my daughter, I hear that you have formed a secret relation with the young man Seiza, of our shop.

Are you willing to end that relation at once, and not to think any more about that man, O-Kichi?--answer me, O my daughter."

_Yanrei!_

"O my dear mother," answered O-Kichi, "what is this that you ask me to do? The closeness of the relation between Seiza and me is the closeness of the relation of the ink to the paper that it penetrates.[113] Therefore, whatever may happen, O mother of mine, to separate from Seiza is more than I can bear."

_Yanrei!_

[113] Lit.:--"that affinity as-for, ink-and-paper-soaked-like affinity."

Then, the father, having called Seiza to the innermost private room, thus spoke to him:--"I called you here only to tell you this: You have turned the mind of our daughter away from what is right; and even to hear of such a matter is not to be borne.

Pack up your things at once, and go!--to-day is the utmost limit of the time that you remain in this house."

_Yanrei!_

Now Seiza was a native of osaka. Without saying more than "Yes--yes," he obeyed and went away, returning to his home.

There he remained four or five days, thinking only of O-Kichi.

And because of his longing for her, he fell sick; and as there was no cure and no hope for him, he died.

_Yanrei!_

Then one night O-Kichi, in a moment of sleep, saw the face of Seiza close to her pillow,--so plainly that she could not tell whether it was real, or only a dream. And rising up, she looked about; but the form of Seiza had vanished.

_Yanrei!_

Because of this she made up her mind to go at once to the house of Seiza. And, without being seen by any one, she fled from the home of her parents.

_Yanrei!_

When she came to the ferry at the next village, she did not take the boat, but went round by another road; and making all haste she found her way to the city of osaka. There she asked for the house of Seiza; and she learned that it was in a certain street, the third house from a certain bridge.

_Yanrei!_

Arriving at last before the home of Seiza, she took off her travelling hat of straw; and seating herself on the threshold of the entrance, she cried out:--"Pardon me kindly!--is not this the house of Master Seiza?"

_Yanrei!_

Then--O the pity of it!--she saw the mother of Seiza, weeping bitterly, and holding in her hand a Buddhist rosary. "O my good young lady," the mother of Seiza asked, "whence have you come; and whom do you want to see?"

_Yanrei!_

And O-Kichi said:--"I am the daughter of the thread-merchant of Kyoto. And I have come all the way here only because of the relation that has long existed between Master Seiza and myself.

Therefore, I pray you, kindly permit me to see him."

_Yanrei!_

"Alas!" made answer the mother, weeping, "Seiza, whom you have come so far to see, is dead. To-day is the seventh day from the day on which he died." ... Hearing these words, O-Kichi herself could only shed tears.

_Yanrei!_

But after a little while she took her way to the cemetery. And there she found the sotoba[114] erected above the grave of Seiza; and leaning upon it, she wept aloud.

_Yanrei!_