CHAPTER XII.
THE WESTERN ORCHARD.
When the Prince of Nagato woke next day he experienced a feeling ofwell-being and of joy to which he had long been a stranger. Yieldingto the brief and idle revery which is like the dawn of wakeningconsciousness, his eye wandered over the dancing shadows of the leaveswithout, cast upon the closed blinds by the sun. Myriads of birdswarbled and chattered, and one might almost think that the light itselfsang in that medley of clear voices.
The Prince thought of the happy day which lay before him; it was anoasis in the dry and burning desert of his love. He repulsed thethought of speedy departure, with its train of attendant griefs, togive himself wholly up to the delights of the present; he was calm andhappy.
The night before, his mind full of memories, his heart filled withemotion, he knew that sleep would hold persistently aloof. He thereforeordered a drink to be prepared which would prevent insomnia. A secretfeeling of coquetry led him to avoid a feverish night. He was awareof his own beauty, having been told of it frequently; and the glanceof every woman he met repeated the story daily. Had not his graceof person and of face, the charm which emanated from him, had theirshare in attracting the favorable notice of the Queen? They thereforedeserved to be guarded from the inroads of fever and fatigue.
Calling his servants, the Prince demanded a mirror, and examinedhimself with eager haste.
But the first glance allayed his fears. His pallor had recovered thewarm tints of which illness had robbed it; the blood returned to hislips; and yet his eyes still retained something of their feverishlustre. He paid an almost childish attention to the details of hisdress, choosing the sweetest perfumes, the softest garments, of thefaint but clear blue tint which he preferred.
When he left his pavilion at last, the guests were already assembledbefore the Kisaki's palace. His arrival caused a sensation. The menwent into raptures over his toilette; the women dared not speak. Buttheir silence was most flattering; it might be translated thus: He isworthy to be loved, even by a queen; for that perfectly beautiful bodyis the temple of the most refined spirit and the noblest heart in thekingdom.
The Princess Iza-Farou-No-Kami approached Nagato. "You have not askedme for news of Fatkoura, Prince," said she.
The Prince had never thought of Fatkoura, nor had he even noted herabsence.
"She was ill yesterday," continued the Princess; "but the announcementof your arrival restored her to health. Depressed as she has beenfor some time, your return may perhaps console her. You will see herdirectly; she is with the Kisaki. She is on duty this week. Well! haveyou nothing to say?"
The Prince knew not what to say; in fact, Fatkoura's name roused bothremorse and weariness in him. He reproached himself for inspiring thiswoman with love for him, or rather for appearing to respond to the lovewhich he guessed she felt. He had used this false passion as a screenbetween the curious gaze and the sun of his real love. But he no longerhad the strength to keep up his _role_ of fond lover; and instead ofthe pity and friendship which he strove to feel for his unfortunatevictim, Fatkoura only inspired him with deep indifference.
The arrival of the Kisaki enabled him to dispense with any answer toIza-Farou. The Queen advanced from the veranda, greeting her guestswith a gracious smile as they bent one knee to the ground.
As they were to climb a mountain and pass over narrow paths, the Kisakihad donned a less ample robe than she usually wore. Her sea-green gownwas of crape, wrinkled slightly, like the surface of a lake ruffledby the wind; a broad cloth of gold girdle bound her waist and formeda huge knot at the back. A branch of chrysanthemum in full bloom wasembroidered upon one end of this sash. The Queen had in her hair largepins of light tortoise-shell elaborately wrought, and on her brow was asmall round mirror surrounded by a row of pearls.
Soon a magnificent chariot, drawn by two black buffaloes, approachedthe palace. This chariot, surmounted by a roof and covered withgilding, looked like a summer-house. It was closed by blinds, which theKisaki ordered to be raised.
The princesses and lords took their places in norimonos drawn by alarge number of men in rich array, and they set joyously forth. Theday was superb, a light breeze cooled the air, and they would not betroubled by the heat.
At first they passed through the gardens of the royal residence. Thechariot thrust aside the straggling branches which grew across thepaths, it frightened away the butterflies, and broke the flowersfrom their stems. Then they reached the wall that surrounds thesummer-palace, and went through the lofty gateway crowned by theMikado's bird, the Foo-Houan,--a mythological creature which took partin the creation of the world. They then followed the wall along itsexterior; next they took a road bordered by tall trees and leading tothe mountains. There the whole Court got down to continue the journeyon foot. They formed into groups, servants opened parasols, and theascent of the mountain was merrily begun. The Kisaki walked first.Alert and active as a young girl, she ran a few steps, gathered wildflowers from the bushes; then, when she had too large a collection, shethrew them away. The merry company chatted and laughed; each one walkedat his own pace. Here and there a lord took off the lacquered hat whichlooked like a circular shield and hung it at his belt; then he fixedhis open fan in his hair twisted like a rope, so that it projected likea penthouse over his forehead.
At times an opening in the bushes revealed the city, which seemed tospread out as they rose higher and higher; but they did not stay togaze, for their first stop was to be on the terrace before the templeof Kiomidz,--that is, the temple of pure water,--whence the view isvery fine. This temple rests on one side upon immensely tall pillars ofwood, reaching down to the very foot of the mountain; on the other itis supported by a rough hewn rock. It shelters beneath its broad roof,covered with blue porcelain tiles, a divinity with a thousand arms.
Upon the terrace, covered with large pebbles, which extends in front ofthe temple, camp-stools had been arranged, that the noble party mightrest, and enjoy the beauty of the view at their ease.
They soon arrived and took their places.
Kioto lay before them, with its countless low but elegant houses,encircling the vast park of the Dairi,--a lake of verdure from whichrose here and there, like an islet, a broad and magnificent roof. Theeye could readily follow the clear line traced around the park by thewalls.
To the south of the city a river, the Yedogava, glistened in thesun. The plain, rich and well cultivated, stretched beyond. Anotherwatercourse, the Wild Goose River, flows through the heart of the town,near the fortress of Nisio-Nosiro, which rears its lofty ramparts andits square tower, crowned by a roof with upturned edges.
Behind the city lay a semicircle of high hills covered with vegetationand with temples of every sort, rising one above the other on theslopes, scaling them, and half hidden in foliage and flowers. Thenobles pointed out to one another the temple of Iasacca, or the EightEscarpments; the tower of To-Tse, with its five series of airy roofs;the chapel of Guihon, containing nothing but a round metal mirror, andsurrounded by a vast number of pretty houses, to which people repairfor tea and saki; then, lower down, nearer the plain, on the roadthat loads to Fusimi, the colossal pagoda of Daibouds, very lofty,very splendid, and containing within its gardens the temple of theThirty-three thousand three hundred and thirty-three Idols,--a verylong and narrow building.
The party went into ecstasies over the beauty of the situation. Theydelighted to lose their way in fancy in the complicated network formedby the city streets, filled with a brilliant throng, the enclosures andthe courtyards, which from that height seemed like open boxes. With asingle glance they traversed all Kioto; beside the river they saw alarge open space, surrounded by a palisade, that was the parade-groundof the Knights of Heaven, some of whom were now galloping about theenclosure, their embroidered robes, their lances, and helmets flashingin the sun.
The dark, green mountains stood out in bold relief against the clearblue sky; some more distant peaks were violet hued; the atmosphere wasso pure that the little city
of Yodo was plainly visible, joined toKioto by the long ribbon-like road crossing the golden fields.
The Kisaki rose.
"Let us be off!" she cried. "We must not linger here too long; we mustdrink, higher up, the water of the cascade of Otooua, which givesprudence and wisdom,--so the bonzes claim."
"Is there no fountain whose water has the power to make menlight-hearted and careless?" said Simabara; "I would rather wet my lipsin that."
"I don't see what you would gain," said a princess, laughing; "if therebe such a fountain, you have most certainly tasted its waters."
"If there were one which made us forget life, and believe in a dreamwithout awaking," said the Prince of Nagato, "I would drink tointoxication of it."
"I would content myself with that which gives prudence, were I in yourplace," said Fatkoura, who had not yet exchanged a word with Nagato.
Her bitter and satirical voice made the Prince shudder. He did notreply, but hastened to rejoin the Queen, who was climbing a stonestaircase hewn in the steep side of the mountain.
This staircase, bordered by shrubs whose interlaced branches formed averdant canopy above it, led to the cascade of Otooua. The sound of thewater was already audible as it gushed from three fissures in the rock,and fell from a height into a small pond.
The Kisaki arrived first; she knelt on the grass and dipped her handsin the clear water.
A young bonze ran forward with a golden cup; but the sovereigndismissed him with a sign, and advancing her lips, swallowed the waterheld in the hollow of her hand, then rose and shook her fingers. A fewdrops fell upon her dress.
"Now," said she, laughing, "Buddha himself has no more wisdom than I."
"You laugh," said Simabara; "for my part, I believe in the virtues ofthe water: that is why I do not taste it."
They took a very rough path. Its very look made the women utter criesof alarm. Some declared that they would never risk their lives on sucha road; but the lords went first, and extended their shut fans to themost timid, and thus the top of the mountain was reached. But then thecries of distress were redoubled. Before them lay a tiny torrent, whichran babbling over the stones; it must be crossed by jumping from rockto rock, at the risk, if one were awkward, of wetting the feet.
The Kisaki asked Nagato to let her lean on his shoulder, and passedsafely over. Some of the women followed her; then turned to laugh,quite at their ease, at those who dared not venture.
One young princess paused in mid-stream, standing on a rock; she heldclose about her the ample folds of her robe; and, half laughing, halfdismayed, would neither go forward nor backward. She only resolved uponcrossing the dangerous ford when her friends threatened to leave heralone in the middle of the torrent.
There were but a few steps more to be taken ore they reached thewestern orchard, which is surrounded by a hedge of tea-plants. TheQueen pushed open a lattice-gate, and entered the enclosure.
It was the most enchanting spot imaginable. The spring, at thisheight, is somewhat tardy; and while in the valley the fruit-trees hadalready shed all their flowers, here they were in full bloom. Uponthe undulating surface carpeted with thick turf, plum-trees coveredwith tiny white stars, apricots, apple-trees, peach-trees with theirpink flowers, cherries decked with dark-red bloom, bent and twistedand stretched in every direction their dusky branches, whose roughnessformed a marked contrast to the frailty of the petals.
In the middle of the orchard a large carpet was spread on the grass,and a red satin curtain, held up by gilded poles, flapped above it. Acollation was served on this rug in costly china dishes.
The guests gladly squatted around the trays loaded with daintyprovisions; the walk had given all an appetite. The women arrangedthemselves in two groups to the right and left of the Kisaki; the mentook their seats opposite her at a respectful distance.
The most outspoken gayety soon reigned throughout the noble assembly;laughter bubbled from every lip. They chattered loudly, and no oneheeded the melodies discoursed by an orchestra hidden behind a screenmade from fibres of the reed.
Fatkoura alone wore a gloomy look and remained silent. The PrincessIza-Farou studied her by stealth with increasing surprise; she alsolooked from time to time at the Prince of Nagato, who seemed lost ina delightful dream, but never turned his eyes in the direction ofFatkoura.
"What has happened?" murmured the Princess. "He has certainly ceased tolove her; and I thought the wedding was so near at hand!"
The feast ended, the Kisaki rose.
"Now," said she, "to work! Let each one of us draw inspiration fromNature to compose a quatrain in Chinese characters."
They scattered in various directions beneath the trees; each onewent apart and reflected. Some paused before a blossoming branch;others walked slowly along, their gaze fixed on the ground, or withhead uplifted towards what could be seen of the sky through theconstellations of snowy or rose-tinted flowers. Some lazy spiritsstretched themselves at full length on the turf and closed their eyes.
The bright and lively hues of their dresses shone forth gayly againstthe green, and added one more charm to the landscape.
Soon all the poets were recalled. The time fixed for the framing ofthe quatrain had elapsed. They assembled and sat down on the grass.Servants brought in a huge bronze bowl, upon the sides of which writhedsculptured dragons in the midst of imaginary shrubbery. This bowl wasfull of white fans, decorated only by a slight sketch in one corner.On one was a tuft of iris; on another a few slender reeds, a cottageby a lake, over which bent a willow, or a bird grasping a branch ofalmond-flowers in his claws.
Each competitor took one of these fans, upon which he was to writehis verse. Brushes and India ink ready mixed were also brought. Soonthe black characters stood in four perpendicular rows upon the whitesurface of the fans; the poems were finished. Each poet read his ownquatrain aloud.
The Princess Iza-Farou began:--
"THE FIRST FLOWERS. "How fleeting, in life, is the time When we have only joys, hopes, and no regrets? Which is the most delicious moment of spring? That when not a single flower has yet faded."
Lively approval hailed this poem.
When silence was restored, Simabara took up the word:--
"THE LOVE OF NATURE. "I lift my head, and I see a flock of wild geese. Among those travellers one, who erst was in the van, now lags behind her mates. See how she flies behind the rest. Why does she linger thus? Because from the heights of heaven she wonders at the beauty of the scene."
"Good! good!" cried the listeners.
Some of the princes repeated the last line, shaking their heads withsatisfaction.
Several other quatrains were read; then the Kisaki repeated hers:--
"THE SNOW. "The sky is clear; the bees hum o'er the garden beds; A balmy breeze blows through the trees; It makes the plum-blossoms fall in showers. How delightful is the spring snow!"
"You are the master of us all!" was the enthusiastic shout. "What areour verses beside yours!"
"Our great poet, Tsourai-Iouki,[1] never wrote a more perfect poem thanthat," said the Prince of Nagato.
"It was from that poet I drew my inspiration," said the Kisaki, smilingwith pleasure. "But it is your turn to read, Iwakura," she continued,glancing at the Prince.
Nagato opened his fan and read:--
"THE WILLOW. "The thing which we love more than all else, we prefer that no one else should love. It belongs to another. So the willow, which takes root in our garden, Bends, blown by the wind, and adorns our neighbor's wall with its branches."
"The illustrious Tikangue[2] might be your brother," said the Kisaki;"there is no quatrain in his works superior to that. I wish to preservethe fan that your hand has illustrated; give it to me, I beg."
Nagato approached the Queen, and, kneeling, offered her the fan.
Fatkoura abruptly recited the following li
nes, which she improvised onthe spur of the moment:--
"The pheasant runs through the fields; he attracts all eyes by his gilded plumage; He cries aloud as he seeks his food. Then he turns towards his mate, And through love for her he involuntarily betrays the place of his retreat to men."
The Queen frowned, and paled slightly. A transport of rage made herheart palpitate; for she saw that Fatkoura, by this improvisation,hurled an outrageous insult at Nagato and herself. She slandered hersovereign with the daring of a soul which has lost all, and offers onebuckler to revenge,--despair.
The Kisaki, feeling her inability to punish, was seized by a vagueterror, and repressed her wrath. If she acknowledged that sheunderstood the injurious intention of Fatkoura's words, must shenot confess to a guilty prepossession,--an interest unworthy of hermajesty,--in the love to which her beauty had given birth in the heartof one of her subjects?
She complimented Fatkoura in a very quiet voice upon the eleganceof her poem; then she sent her by a page the prize offered forcompetition. It was a charming collection of poems, no longer than aman's finger; the fashion being for the smallest books possible.
Some hours later, while the Prince of Nagato, leaning over the edge ofthe terrace, was gazing down from the mountain top at the setting sun,which shed its purple glory across the sky, the Kisaki drew near him.
He lifted his eyes to her face, thinking that she wished to speak tohim; but she was silent, her eyes fixed on the horizon, and full ofsadness; she preserved a solemn attitude.
The reflection from the western sky disguised her pallor. She repressedsome painful emotion, and strove to restrain a tear that trembled onher lashes and dimmed her sight.
Nagato felt a sort of terror; he was sure that she was going to saysomething dreadful to him. He would fain have prevented her fromspeaking.
"Queen," said he, softly, as if to dismiss the danger, "the sky lookslike a great rose-leaf."
"It is the last falling leaf of day," said the Kisaki,--"of the daywhich is sinking into the past, but whose memory our spirits willpreserve as a day of joy and peace,--perhaps the last."
She turned away to hide her tears, which, despite her efforts, flowedfast.
The Prince's heart was oppressed with inexpressible agony; he was likethe victim who sees the knife at his throat. He dared not speak, lesthe should hasten the sacrifice.
Suddenly the Kisaki turned to him.
"Prince," said she, "I have something to say to you: you must marryFatkoura."
Nagato stared at the Queen in dismay; he saw her eyes were wet withtears, but full of a calm and irrevocable resolve.
He slowly bowed his head. "I will obey," he murmured.
And while she moved quickly away, he hid his face in his hands, andgave vent to the sobs which were stifling him.
[1] The two latter quatrains are translated from Tsourai-Iouki, one ofthe most famous poets of Japan.
[2] An illustrious Japanese poet, author of the verses entitled "TheWillow."